#two sure for mark 2 today
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shuaflix · 1 year ago
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kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity
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❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞
PAIRING ▸ kim mingyu x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, rated m for mingyu, slow burn, he fell first but she fell harder but then he tripped and ate shit, probably the most self-indulgent thing i’ve written, mingyu and mc are both virgins, sexual content, sexual tension, protected and unprotected sex (i would not advise doing the latter), lots of teasing and banter, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, wall sex, couch sex, public sex, mingyu discovers what pasties are, soonyoung orders 20 connect fours, they are avid enjoyers of the barbie movies
SUMMARY ▸ after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn't), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).
PLAYLIST ▸ perfect by one direction • spell by niki • fatal flaw by ellise • give me a kiss by lolo zouaï • step? by bibi
WORD COUNT ▸ 31,273 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ someone (fia) once told me i write too many college aus. i said yeah ur right. and i’m gonna do it again
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“BIRDS AND BEES CANNOT PHYSICALLY FUCK.”
You sounded more distressed than informative while you were trying to reason with your longtime best friend, Kim Mingyu. He, on the other hand, appeared visibly worked up over this childish level of argument you two were having.
“It is a metaphor,” he said. “Everyone knows birds and bees aren’t screwing each other up in the trees.”
You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Hours ago, you had fucked yourself over after Kwon Soonyoung had casually brought up the topic of body counts. After everyone in your friend group went around listing theirs (Soonyoung: 3; Jungwoo: 3; Minghao: 2; Vernon: 5), you accidentally blurted out that your body count actually existed—one, to be exact.
This was a problem because, to everyone’s prior knowledge, you were a virgin.
Sure, you kissed a few guys before—maybe had a few heated makeout sessions—but you never really went all the way. Yeah, Mark Lee was coming onto you freshman year, but before he could start sliding his hand down your pants, you nearly screamed and killed the vibe. It was safe to say that Mark never thought about trying to get with you again.
After being barraged with questions about who finally claimed your v-card, you decided to blurt out the one name that felt the safest to you.
And that was Kim Mingyu.
Now, you and Mingyu had been friends for a long time, dating back to your freshman year of college when he wound up being your dorm neighbor. After about a month of Mingyu only knocking on your door to use your printer or air fryer, your relationship finally upgraded to having semi-deep conversations and going to the dining hall together. Eventually, Kim Mingyu became a staple in your life—or perhaps more like a pesky gnat you couldn’t get rid of.
Either way, since you figured that Mingyu was equally as sexually inexperienced as you were, you felt as though your safest bet was to keep your secret with him. This way, the both of you could finally not be labeled as the friend group’s token virgins.
To make matters worse, though, you didn’t expect your friends to have such a dramatic reaction to the news. They were convinced that you and Mingyu were going at it every night. In reality, he was only coming over to your apartment at the dead of night because his fridge had been broken since September. You made a pact with him that you two would take turns cooking every other day, and today was his turn.
(You secretly looked forward to the days when he would cook. Mingyu’s culinary skills were surprisingly top-notch. You were pretty sure his flavor palate was 250% more refined than the average human, considering he could tell apart regular butter from I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.)
So, while Mingyu was frying salmon, you were bombarding him with questions about sex. After all, if you were now living your life as a self-proclaimed non-virgin, then you had to educate yourself on the birds and the bees.
That was where the argument arose because what the fuck did the birds and the bees have to do with anything?
“So why do they use the birds and the bees?” you asked. “Why don’t they use, like, the butterflies and the bees? You know, pollination? I feel like that makes more sense.”
“It’s ‘cause birds hatch eggs, which is supposed to symbolize, like, female ovulation,” Mingyu explained, “and bees pollinating flowers is for male fertilization.”
You leaned back in your seat, absolutely mind-blown. Mingyu took your silence as understanding and turned on you, pointing his large cooking tongs in your direction.
“You’re way too innocent to be telling everyone we slept together,” he said. “I’d start watching porn or something, ‘cause asking me about the symbolism of the birds and bees isn’t gonna cut it. That’s middle school behavior, Y/N.”
Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment. “I’m not innocent! I know how sex works; I just don’t understand how you like… you know, do the deed.”
Mingyu snorted. “You can’t even say it properly!”
“Can to!” you fired back before folding your arms across your chest. “I just choose not to because of my Miranda Rights. You know, my right to remain silent and all that.”
“I don’t think that applies here.”
“It can.”
“Yeah, okay. But not when Soonyoung asked about your body count?”
“You’re not still upset about me telling the group we slept together, right? I swear it was a total—”
“Of course I’m upset, Y/N,” he interjected. “I wanted my first time to be my first time, and you just told everyone we fucked like it was nothing.”
Yeah, it was safe to say that the tension between you and Mingyu had been growing for a while. You two still hung out as usual, but he would sometimes drop passive-aggressive comments about your fuck-up that would make you feel miserable for the rest of the day. There wasn’t anything you could do but apologize, especially when Mingyu insisted that you two keep up the farce so that your friends wouldn’t get on your back for being a liar.
You could tell he cared—deep, deep down—about how this would affect you. Honestly, he was too good for you.
“Anyway, we can’t do anything about it now, so let’s drop it.” He sighed, and the only sounds you could hear for a moment were the fan running and the salmon sizzling on the pan. You waited until Mingyu started plating the food. “Dinner’s ready.”
For a few minutes, you two ate in utter silence. The only sounds in the room were the occasional scraping noises of fork against plate.
Mingyu decided to speak up. “I submitted one of the pictures I took to an art gallery.”
“Oh, really? The sunset ones you took when you went camping with Jungwoo?” you asked.
“Yeah, a few of the ones I developed looked really good, so he suggested I try sending them in. They haven’t reached out yet, but I’m hoping they put it up for their exhibition.”
“That’s sick. I’ll go see it with you if they put your work up.”
You two relapsed into silence after Mingyu hummed appreciatively. He was back to chewing his thoughts away while you wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
“I fucked up, Gyu,” you admitted. “I really fucked up. I’m sorry.”
He smiled one of those lopsided, easygoing grins that could put anyone at ease. Yet, you still felt disheartened that he knew exactly what you were referring to.
“It’s whatever. At least you saved us from being asked if we’re still virgins.”
“I feel like I’m living a lie,” you grumbled. “It’s been eating at me for the past week. I might just fess up to Soonyoung.”
“You do know he’s gonna get mad at you for lying about something so petty.”
“But it’s even worse if he finds out later on!”
Mingyu just hummed in response, brows knitted together like he was pondering over something.
“Yeah, I guess,” was all he said, ending the discourse as he set your plate of food down in front of you on the dining table. You poked at the delectable salmon with your fork. “Don’t worry about what Soonyoung thinks. Sex isn’t something you can just jump into if you’re not ready.”
“But I am ready,” you complained between mouthfuls of food. “Every time I’m in the mood, I get so close and then chicken out. Maybe I’m just not doing it with the right person.”
“That would also be an important factor.”
You shook your head to dismiss the topic. “Whatever. Maybe they won’t bother us about it now that they think the deed’s done.”
“Maybe,” Mingyu echoed, although clear uncertainty hung in those syllables.
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Once, in high school, you lied to your P.E. teacher about being on your period so that you wouldn’t have to participate in swimming for a week. On another occasion, you lied to your parents about going to your friend’s house to work on a group project so that you could actually drink alcohol for the first time.
Lying to Kwon Soonyoung was a whole other realm of difficulty.
It had been less than a day since you and Mingyu brushed off your lie that blew out of proportion. You were stupid to think that it wouldn’t haunt you further because Minghao wore a simpering smile on his face as soon as he saw you and Mingyu walk into the library together.
As soon as you two took your seats at your friend group’s respective table, Soonyoung and Jungwoo immediately started hounding you with more questions. Mingyu was clearly irritated—whether that was because he didn’t want the topic brought up again or he didn’t appreciate Soonyoung getting distracted from their little app developing session, you had no idea. They must have been excited now that they had both of their targets to harass.
“You are never willing to put out,” your bewildered friend rambled, “and you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here.”
“Wow,” Mingyu spoke up. “That was, like, the worst possible way to phrase that.”
You frowned. “Dick repellent?”
“C’mon, everyone here knows about the whole Mark-gate incident.”
You rolled your eyes. “Look, whatever went down between Mingyu and I just… happened. I have nothing else to say on the matter.”
“You know what just happens?” Vernon Chwe, who normally kept his two cents to himself, decided to blurt out. “Losing your passport. That’s the kind of thing that just happens.” The sour tone his voice took on indicated that he was still bitter about showing up at the airport with Boo Seungkwan for his Italy trip last summer without his passport. “But sex? That doesn’t just happen. It’s a process.”
“Unless you were under the influence,” Minghao added. Then, he turned to you and Mingyu with curious eyes. “Were you drunk? High? Coked out?”
Obviously, you and Mingyu weren’t smart enough to cover all the bases of your lie, so neither of you planned out a story beforehand. Taken by surprise, he ended up stuttering, “N-no?”
“So it didn’t just happen,” Jungwoo said with a grin. “You two knew what you were doing.”
“I think you guys are making this way deeper than it actually is,” you replied. “We were just horny and things ended up going that way. That’s all there is to it.”
Minghao snickered. “I don’t believe that for one second.”
“Well, you should,” you started, voice rising along with your temper, “because Mingyu’s hot, and it’s perfectly normal for a young woman to want to have sex with someone who looks like a walking wet dream!”
Your table fell silent, and you suddenly wished you had dramatically stormed away after your (loud) confession. There was nothing subtle about the judgment and concern in everyone’s eyes, but most importantly, you were horrified to see Mingyu’s equally horrified reaction to your outburst.
“Walking wet dream,” Soonyoung parroted in a quieter voice, amusement tugging at his lips. “I’m gonna make that his contact name now.”
Jungwoo shrugged. “Well, I guess it checks out. Mingyu did say he found Y/N cute for a while.”
Your cheeks burned. He found you cute?
Mingyu, who was now blushing tomato red, covered his face with his hands and groaned. If you weren’t so mortified about embarrassing yourself and Mingyu in front of your entire friend group earlier, then you might have found him a little adorable.
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So, you fucked up. Again.
You played out your conversation with your friends about five different times, thinking of various outcomes that could have taken place instead. If you didn’t blurt out the first thing that came to your head on impulse, then maybe you wouldn’t have dug a deeper hole for yourself.
Plus, you had to deal with Mingyu now.
Jungwoo’s words kept parroting in your head like a broken record. Cute. What did that mean, anyway? Squirrels were cute, and you were hoping you had enough sex appeal to not be put on the same tier as squirrels.
Of course, you ended up leaving the library after mumbling some excuse about having to attend a professor’s office hours. Although that was a complete lie, your friends seemed to buy it. You thought you were off the hook until you received a text from your friend.
mingyu: can we talk later?
You didn’t know what to think. If this lie of yours ended up breaking your friendship with Mingyu for good, you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to forgive yourself. So, you settled for curling up on your couch and spooning ice cream into your mouth until the pain subsided.
It was nearly midnight when the knock came at your door.
When you opened it, the very man you didn’t want to see was standing big and tall. You were tempted to close the door on Mingyu, but there was no point in pushing him away even more.
“I forgot to reply to your text,” you said.
“I know.” Mingyu looked you up and down, which you couldn’t help but blush at, but you figured he was just eyeing your Hello Kitty pajamas. “Can I come in?”
You opened the door wider, allowing him to step inside. “Are you here to yell at me?”
“No, although I should after what you pulled,” he teased, and you were grateful that he sounded lighthearted again. The tension was still thick, though, and you were certain it was because of the indirect confessions of attraction you both let slip. “I’m here to make a proposal.”
“What is it?”
Mingyu shrugged off his jacket, revealing his toned, muscular arms. You wondered just how much work he put into bulking up at the gym, and then your thoughts started to drift elsewhere. Thinking about how buff his chest was, thinking about how broad his shoulders were, thinking about how—
“A solution to both of our problems,” Mingyu interrupted your thoughts as he took a seat on your couch. He pointed at the bowl of ice cream you left on a cushion. “Is this cookies and cream?”
“Yeah, you can have some.” You took a seat next to him and inquired, “So… explain.”
“Okay, uh, well…” He trailed off, trying some of the ice cream after fiddling with the spoon for minutes. “Hey, this is really good ice cream.”
You gently pushed his spoon down before he could scoop more into his mouth. “Gyu, get to the point already.”
“I never noticed your coffee table was such a nice shade of brown.”
“Mingyu.”
“Could this be mahogany?”
“Mingyu.”
“Alright, alright.” He sighed, turning his head down ever-so-slightly. You were a little terrified that he was going to go on a spiel about ending the friendship, but then he said, “We’re both in predicaments. Our friends won’t leave us alone about the sex thing and you’re still heated about being a virgin. I mean, I’m also tired of my partner being my right hand, so like…”
Oh god. Mingyu was going to ask you to have sex. Kim Mingyu was about to get in your pants right now.
And were you against it? Not at all. The only thing that worried you was that you weren’t sure if you were ready—for sex and potentially blurring the lines of friendship between you and Mingyu.
“So, what are you getting at?” you asked, trying to play off your unnaturally high-pitched voice with a cough.
“Well, after that uncomfortable conversation earlier, I was just thinking… I clearly find you attractive and you find me attractive,” he said, and when he ducked his head a little, you could see the tips of his ears flaming red. “I’m saying I’m down for you to be my first.”
You willed yourself not to stammer over your words as you said, “I thought you wanted your first time to be special.”
“I do,” he mumbled. “That’s why I started thinking about it seriously after you called me a—”
“You don’t have to repeat it,” you cut him off quickly, your face feeling hot again. “But yeah, I’ve always thought you were hot—um, objectively. I didn’t think you thought the same about me, though.”
“Yeah, I do,” he replied shyly, “but I also know you’ve tried to have sex multiple times and back out whenever you get close.” Before you could respond, Mingyu pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and set it down between you two. “That’s why I made this.”
You eyed the paper curiously, glancing at Mingyu for his approval to go ahead and open it. When he gestured for you to do so, you picked it up and unfolded it.
(EX) VIRGIN CONTRACT
Both parties may request whatever they want to try
Either party may approve or deny the other’s request
The contract ends at either party’s request
The friendship must not be ruined, and if the friendship is ever in danger of being ruined, the contract will be terminated.
“I figured it would be less intimidating with you since we both have no idea what’s going on,” Mingyu continued. “This way we can explore whatever we want without judgment.”
(Mingyu would never admit it to you, but part of him was eager to see you underneath him with that shy expression of yours melting away into pure, unadulterated lust. And you would never admit that you wouldn’t exactly hate that.)
“I’m not gonna lie,” you started, “I think we would be bullied even more for this.”
“That’s the unspoken rule number five,” he explained. “We keep whatever this is between ourselves. I know you struggle in that area, but—”
“Oh, shut up.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you set the paper down. “I don’t know…”
“Take your time to think it over.”
“Actually, I’ve made up my mind. Let’s do it.”
Mingyu did a double take, his features curiously pulling together. “Um, I meant that you could take a few days. Not milliseconds.”
There was a reason as to why you caved quickly. Your thoughts had been running at a billion miles per hour for the entirety of your conversation with Mingyu. You were confident that your decision was well-calculated.
Did you want to fuck Mingyu? Yes.
Were you terrified of possibly ruining your friendship? Absolutely.
However, considering the conversation had already happened, the course of your friendship had drastically changed already. The only thing even more potentially damaging than bringing physical intimacy into the relationship was rejecting this offer. If you turned Mingyu down now, your interactions with him would soon fizzle into awkward, cordial small talk.
“Hey, I think it’d be fun,” you decided to say instead of giving him the rundown of your internal crisis.
“Really? You’re sure?”
“I wouldn’t agree to it if I wasn’t. I mean, it’s a big proposal.”
He gave you one of his lopsided smiles. “Right. I didn’t wanna rush into it or anything, but I think we should talk about it more when you’re ready.” Mingyu picked up the remote and handed it to you. “So, wanna get back to our Barbie marathon? We’re on Fairytopia, right?”
“Yeah,” you agreed, taking the remote from him with a touch of disappointment settling into your bones. Part of you was hoping he would get to it right away. “Yeah, we can talk about it later.”
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You two did not talk about it.
It had been approximately six days and Mingyu had not reached out once about your contract. You were starting to think that you should have added some sort of clause about response time because the silence was killing you.
The next time you saw him was at a Kappa Sigma party. Soonyoung and Jungwoo always extended an invite to you, which was nice because that meant you could walk right in without being checked out and approved by some frat brother. You would normally drag Shin Ryujin along with you, but she insisted that she wouldn’t be able to wake up for her midterm if she went out to drink. Thus, you figured you wouldn’t show up, but after seeing Mingyu in the background of Minghao’s Snapchat story (which was a video of Vernon snorting a line off some girl’s stomach), you got your ass out of bed and threw your sluttiest top on.
Thirty minutes later, there you were, listening to Lee Chan ramble inside of the Kappa Sigma house. Ten feet from your target: Kim Mingyu.
“I got scammed, Y/N,” the frat brother, who was deep in five beers and four vodka shots, ranted to you while occasionally slurring his words. “Soonyoung ropes me into joining for friends, but I already knew all the people in the frat, anyway!” He paused to take another swig of his beer. “Zero benefits! Zero!”
Although you enjoyed Chan’s company, you were really trying to get Mingyu’s attention. Since walking in and waiting for him to approach you didn’t work, you were going to have to march up to him directly. Unfortunately, the drunk freshman in front of you was not helping one bit.
“That blows,” you replied sympathetically, “but at least you get to party, and you don’t have to worry about finding housing.”
Chan scoffed. “Yeah, if I’m not a sober monitor, then I just get alcohol poisoning. I can never win.”
For the next thirty minutes, you ended up listening to Chan drone on about how the world was against him. Eventually, he started to realize that he didn’t have it all that bad, and then he passed out after you helped him to the couch. You gave up on trying to get Mingyu’s attention; all of your attempts had been in vain, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself.
After talking to Vernon briefly, though, you found the opportunity to strike. Jungwoo announced a game of rage cage, so you were going to expertly place yourself next to Mingyu. Since everyone else would be focused on the game, you would use that chance to invite him to talk privately later.
Your plan was going smoothly until you stood next to Mingyu and realized he was a shot away from blacking out.
“You look like you’ve been through the trenches and back,” you said.
“Can’t tell where the floor is.”
“Under your feet.”
“Wow, you’re right.”
He was most definitely not in the right headspace to have a conversation about the contract—or to have any conversation, really.
“I’ve been wondering if you’d show up,” he continued. “I wanted to see you.”
Curse your heart for fluttering pathetically.
“You did?” you asked.
There was no time for Mingyu to respond because everyone around the table started screaming at you. When you turned your attention back to the game, you realized the red solo cup was in front of you and Vernon was about to stack you.
“Careful, Y/N, Vernon’s been on a roll,” Minghao taunted, eyes lit up with amusement as he watched you fumble with the ping pong ball.
“I have,” Vernon confirmed. From across the table, he smirked at Joshua Hong, who you figured was his victim from the last game.  
Your lips curled up in a lazy grin. “Yeah? Let’s see if you can stack me even once.”
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So, you lost. Miserably.
Vernon was on a roll, and you formally apologized for ever doubting him. (You apologized after getting stacked for a third time, but Vernon didn’t ease up on you. He was a ruthless killing machine.)
On top of the six times you got stacked, you also ended up being the unfortunate bitch cup receiver. You downed it without too many complaints; you were past the point of scowling through your drinks. It would have been less pathetic if you hadn’t talked yourself up so much.
On the bright side, you and Mingyu had gotten so drunk that Soonyoung ushered you two into his room to sober up. Since Chan had already thrown up on the couch, your friend decided that it was better to make sure you were in close proximity to a toilet.
Soonyoung instructed, “Remember, if you feel like throwing up, make sure you go to the—oh my god, Chan, keep your clothes on!”
He groaned and slammed the door shut so that he could chase after his intoxicated friend. You were just thankful that you weren’t that drunk. The room was starting to spin, however, so you were dreading waking up with a headache in the morning.
“You were terrible today,” Mingyu mumbled. His shoulder brushed against yours, and you ended up leaning against him. “But I��m glad you sucked ass.”
Your lips curled in distaste. “What the hell?”
“I only got stacked once thanks to your god-awful performance.” He let his head hang so that he could suck in a sharp breath. “Wow, I feel like shit.”
“You’re such a bitch,” you complained. “I was gonna ask you something serious, too!”
“Oh, really? What is it?”
“Well, I’m not gonna tell you now!”
You almost stammered at the end of your sentence when you saw Mingyu’s puppy eyes on full display. Despite the pleading look on his face, you couldn’t help but notice the way the stray rays of sunlight that poured into Soonyoung’s room were catching onto Mingyu’s honeyed skin. It made his dark brown eyes look like melted amber.
You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making you feel hot or if the humidity was created by the drunk college students packed into the house like sardines, but Soonyoung’s room felt balmy. Your shirt clung to the sweat beading your back, but all you could think about was how close you and Mingyu were.
It seemed as though he was thinking the same thing. “We should open a window or something.”
“It’s so hot,” you whined. “Feels like a sauna in here.”
“I know. Soonyoung never opens the windows, even though there’s no air conditioning in here.”
“He should invest in a fan.”
“Yeah, that’s why I like your place. You have a nice cooling system.”
You laughed. Mostly because you had very different intentions for this conversation, and here Mingyu was, talking about your air conditioning.
You were sobering up, but you still felt drunk off Mingyu’s attention.
Like he was sharing a secret, your best friend leaned in close to your ear while trying to suppress a giggle. “Should we get out of here?”
“And go where?”
“Your place. Duh.”
“I don’t know if I can even walk downstairs,” you mumbled, suddenly afraid that he was going to think you were a bore.
“I can,” Mingyu said, and before you knew it, he was kneeling down with his back facing you and his arms reaching back. You just stared at him for a moment before he shot you back a questioning look. “What’re you waiting for? Get on.”
You sort of let your body fall against his, but Mingyu helped you regain your balance almost immediately. He gripped your thighs firmly while you looped your arms around his neck. When he stood up, you almost gasped upon realizing how high up you were. It was in that moment when you were suddenly hyper-aware of how massive he was, how strong his back muscles were, and—
He yelped. “Bug!”
—how this man was terrified of everything under the sun.
If you had Mingyu’s height, you wouldn’t let anything stop you. But here he was, cowering even as he towered over the tiny spider that was crawling across the floor.
“You have got to be kidding,” you deadpanned. “You can so easily step over it.”
“They jump.”
“Name one instance where a spider’s ever jumped on you.”
He stiffened. “Uh, never. But that’s because I avoid them at all costs.”
Eventually, with some persuasion and promises of ice cream at home, Mingyu did manage to step over the beast, which was a common house spider. Kim Mingyu struck gold in the gene pool lottery. It was only fair that he had some stupid-sounding fatal flaw.
You whispered instructions on how to sneak past the crowd and giggled into his ear while he tried to creep downstairs and walk out the front door. Thankfully, the house was so packed that hardly anyone noticed you and Mingyu leaving. Only a few guys outside greeted him, but they were simultaneously puking their guts out.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to the party?” you asked as your chin rested on his shoulder. You were genuinely curious because Mingyu always invited you if there was a party. “I only found out when I saw Minghao’s story.”
“Uh… I was about to text you, but then Soonyoung wouldn’t shut up with the teasing and I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable if you showed up,” he admitted, and, from where you were, you could see the tip of his ear turning pink. “But I was hoping you’d come on your own.”
You tightened your grip on him. “I wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable.”
There was silence for a while between you two, and you felt like the balmy night air was thick with undiscussed feelings. A topic that you and Mingyu were mindful about skirting around, even when the aftereffects of liquid confidence still coursed through your blood. You could hardly even realize it yourself.
Your chin rested on his shoulder. Mingyu had given you piggyback rides before—back when you two were freshmen and still a little shy around each other. The first time was when you ended up twisting your ankle during a Halloweekend party, resulting in Mingyu offering to carry you back to your dorm. You hadn’t had many guy friends before college, so the thought of casual physical contact with a man was strange to you back then.
Everything slowly started to feel natural between you and Mingyu. Now, it was as if someone took a hammer and smashed your perception to pieces. The air was suddenly stifling and you were overly-conscious about how Mingyu’s chest swelled whenever you adjusted your hold on him.
He set you down once he reached the front door of your building. You had mostly sobered up by now, though you were certain you would lose your footing if you took the stairs instead of the elevator.
By the time you two had reached your door, you were already going off on some tangent about how you technically had more sexual experience than Mingyu, despite your total confusion over the actual mechanics of intercourse.
He kicked off his shoes before walking into your living room. “I think you’re underestimating me. Just because I’m saving my first time doesn’t mean I have zero experience whatsoever.”
“Saving it for me,” you teased.
“God,” Mingyu hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if your words were truly headache-inducing (but it was mostly to hide his blush). “I never should’ve told you that.”
“Hey, you can’t take it back now.” A giggle bubbled from your lips. “You think I’m cute.”
“I didn’t say cute.”
“I’m repeating exactly what Jungwoo told me.”
“No, he downplayed it for you. I told him”—Mingyu had turned to you fully, placing his hands on your shoulders and letting them slide down to your forearms—“that you’re…” It was as if he snapped out of some sort of trance, shaking his head to stop himself from rambling. “Never mind. Forget what I said.”
“What?!” you exclaimed, pushing at his chest. Hard. “You can’t just say that and back out!”
He winced, shooting you those puppy dog eyes that always made you melt. “I’ll tell you one day.”
“And that day better be today, ‘cause—”
“One day,” he repeated. “It’s too late now. We have a busy day tomorrow.” Mingyu squeezed your forearms gently before letting go and fishing out his phone and keys from his pockets. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Whoa, hold on. What do we have tomorrow?”
The corner of his lip raised in amusement, nearly going unnoticed. “We have that contract to get to, don’t we?”
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Obviously, you weren’t able to get any sleep when Mingyu’s words kept sending butterflies to your stomach.
It took an hour of tossing and turning for you to finally get some sleep. That smirk of his kept replaying in your head, flashing behind your eyes over and over again until you forced yourself to blink the image away.
When you woke up in the morning, it was because Mingyu gently tapped your shoulder until you stirred. Since it was a Saturday, you were hoping to sleep in, although the sunlight making Mingyu’s tanned skin glow under its rays was a pleasant sight to wake to.
He grinned, flashing his brilliant white teeth. “Morning.”
“Good morning.” You yawned. “Was the couch comfy?”
“Yeah, I fucking love your couch,” he said, “but it did get a little lonely out there.”
Your chest seized for a moment. Was that an invitation? Or was he suggesting that you could have joined him? Not to mention you could detect the faintest trace of longing in his eyes.
It was too early in the morning for you to think straight, though, so all you could do was that breathy laugh of yours—the one that always sounded frazzled and nervous. Laugh and change the topic.
“So, why’re you up so early?”
“I gotta meet up with Jeonghan real quick, but I’ll drop by later,” he explained. “Forgot I agreed to go to the gym today.”
You remembered Jeonghan—the cute senior from Kappa Sigma that always brought a different girl to their parties. You had spoken to him once or twice after Soonyoung introduced you. It was all small talk, though, nothing of significance. The only distinct memory you had of Jeonghan was how Soonyoung sent him home in an Uber during one party he was blacking out at last year only for Jeonghan to take that Uber right back to the party.
“Alright,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. “You can take the spare key.”
“Say less.”
After Mingyu left and you stretched in your bed for a while, your phone went off with several texts from Minghao. Some of them were from last night, but you had passed out by the time he started sending them.
hao: dude where are you hao: AND WHERE’S MINGYU hao: we’re about to uber back soon hao: soonyoung said he left u guys in his room and now ur both missing?? hao: wait jk i forgot i have ur locations hao: BRUH hao: oh my god hao: u gmfu hao: psa i will be extremely annoying until you spill everything
hao: GOOD MORNING hao: RISE AND SHINE hao: now spill
y/n: good morning. y/n: dot dot dot
hao: bitch hao: i'm onto you
y/n: 😀 y/n: wanna get breakfast? y/n: we can go to that new açai bowl place that opened up near campus y/n: i can spill then
hao: sure i’ll pick you up in 10
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The açai bowl place was unfortunately mediocre.
You were not impressed with the range of toppings and neither was Minghao. You two ended up settling for your regular orders with several inclusions left out. To top it off, the bowls were insanely overpriced, leaving you and Minghao thoroughly unsatisfied.
You sat at one of the tables with him, scooping granola into your mouth as you listened to him talk about his experience at the party. Apparently, Vernon started to black out as soon as they made him do a keg stand, so Minghao and Jungwoo took the liberty of taking him home and tucking him in bed. Soonyoung was scrambling around the house because the party had gotten so out-of-hand that one of the neighbors called the cops on them.
You ended up explaining how you and Mingyu ended up going home, fighting down the heat spreading across your face whenever Minghao would shoot you a knowing look. It was as if he was saying, Oh, man, you two are practically already dating.
“Yeah, and about that,” he started and cleared his throat, “you two are still virgins, right?”
Your jaw went slack for a moment, and all you could do was stare at your friend until he let out a questioning hum.
“What?” Minghao continued. “Okay, I haven’t told the others about what I noticed or anything. I just picked up on it last night.”
You frowned before asking, “You picked up on… my v-card?”
“No.” He scoffed. “I picked up on the way you and Mingyu were acting around each other. If you guys actually had sex, there’s no reason for you to act all shy whenever Mingyu comes near you. So, I concluded that either you two haven’t fucked or you caught feelings for him.”
You swallowed hard. For the most part, Minghao had pieced it together perfectly, but you were unsure about his last presumption.
First of all, you had zero idea that you were acting shy in front of Mingyu last night. Sure, there were moments where you felt like your heart dropped to your stomach, but you didn’t think it was noticeable enough for other people to pick up on it.
Second of all, you were pretty sure you were just caught up in the excitement of potentially having sex with Mingyu. Minghao was probably mistaking your anticipation for an emotion too complex for you to feel for your best friend.
Lastly, he caught your virgin self red-handed. Since you still hadn’t established a proper story with Mingyu yet, there was no way you could defend yourself now. Not when you were blanking on excuses.
“H-huh?”
“You were still acting like Little Miss I’ve Never Felt The Touch Of A Man, is what I’m saying.”
You frowned. Okay, rude.
“Fine. You got me,” you replied, sighing in defeat. “We’re both still virgins. I really fucked up when I started running my mouth in front of you guys.”
Minghao almost seemed alarmed for a moment, but his expression relaxed. Slowly, his smile tugged into a proper laugh. It wasn’t enough to wipe the mortified expression off your face, though; in fact, you felt even more humiliated.
“I knew it,” he said. “I knew there was something fishy about your story!”
“Please don’t tell the others,” you begged. “Soonyoung’s gonna hate me if he finds out I lied to him.”
Kwon Soonyoung was especially sensitive about lying. Most people were, of course, but Soonyoung prioritized trust in his relationships, whether they were platonic or romantic. Once, when he found out his ex-girlfriend lied about where she would go on Friday nights, he broke up with her a week later.
You weren’t sure how he would react to your lie, but you weren’t enthusiastic about finding out.
“You’re gonna tell him eventually, though, right?”
You sighed. “I know I have to eventually. I just have to find the right timing. Things got complicated between Mingyu and I, so I’m trying to figure that out first.”
Minghao took a sip from his Coca-Cola. “What happened between you and Mingyu?”
You swallowed down a mouthful of açai and granola before explaining, “So, basically, to clear up the lie about Mingyu and I, we’ve decided to lose our virginities to each other.”
“You’re losing your virginity… to cover up a lie?”
“No! I mean, technically yes, but, like, I just think—”
“Listen,” he interrupted. “I know you’re terrible at math, but let’s put two and two together here.” Despite the offense drawn across your face, he continued, “Mingyu’s been saving himself for that ‘special someone,’ so obviously, he wouldn’t just lose his virginity to anyone.”
“You’re saying he’s gonna back out?”
“I’m saying—” Minghao cut himself off and a smile spread across his face. “You know what, I’m gonna let you figure that out for yourself. My work here is officially done.”
“What?! You can’t just say that and give me no context!”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Vernon told me not to meddle, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut until you see it for yourself.”
“See what for myself?” you asked with an exasperated sigh.
“You’ll see.”
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When you got home, Mingyu was already in your house with a large whiteboard in the center of your living room. Before you even opened your mouth to ask where the hell it came from, he explained that he “borrowed” it from the community room downstairs. (You made a mental note to return it before anyone noticed it missing.)
Your head was still turning after your conversation with Minghao, and you weren’t all that great at hiding your expression. As soon as you made eye contact with Mingyu, you could tell he knew something was up.
“Did something happen?” he asked.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” you replied as you shrugged off your jacket. “How was the gym? Also, why the whiteboard?”
He grinned. Scrawled on the board in blue Expo marker were both of your names as headers for columns. Mingyu handed you a black marker and stood with one hand gripping the top of the board.
“Step one,” he started. “We write down anything we wanna try, and then we approve or veto the options.”
You uncapped the marker. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“No judgment?”
“No judgment.”
You started writing down whatever desires you had pushed down for years. Albeit short, you figured they covered all the bases. Weeks ago, you wouldn’t have dreamed of admitting any of them to Mingyu; now that your relationship with him took a turn, however, it wasn’t so hard to reveal them.
Next to you, Mingyu was shamelessly jotting sex positions down like he had them memorized. You peeked at his list out of the corner of your eye and nearly did a spit take. The first one on your list was kissing, but Mingyu had started off with anal.
Although he agreed to zero judgment, you were finding it hard to feel the same way.
Once you two were done, you stepped back to look at the whiteboard with its two complete lists side-by-side. Mingyu’s list was considerably longer than yours, but you stood by your own. You felt as though yours was more natural, more gradual.
Y/N
Kissing
Neck kissing
Touching
Penetrative sex
MINGYU
Anal
69
Cowgirl
Wall sex
Public sex
Phone sex
It had come to your attention that Mingyu, like every other man, was incredibly horny.
You had been worrying about the act of sex itself for ages, and your best friend was suggesting something far beyond your capabilities? You weren’t even considering doing anal in the next ten years, let alone for the sake of your contract.
Mingyu snorted. “Kissing.”
“You said no judgment!”
“I thought it was cute, that’s all,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Anyway, anal?” You scoffed. “I don’t know if your list is exactly beginner level.”
“Well, that’ll just make you an expert by the end of this, won’t it?”
You couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up. “Okay, how about we start with my much more reasonable list, and then we can get to your scary, intimidating one once we actually, um… do the deed.”
“You have seriously got to start just saying sex.”
“Shut up.”
Mingyu’s smirk was not helping your blush one bit, so you just pretended the embarrassing warmth spreading across your chest didn’t exist. Instead, you grabbed the whiteboard eraser to wipe off the ink from the word anal.
Your best friend slash fuckbuddy let out a petulant whine, so you smacked his bicep.
“I approve of the others for now,” you started shyly, “but we start yours after my list is finished. Do you have anything from mine that you don’t approve of?”
The question wasn’t very sensible, considering all of your list was a prerequisite for more than half of Mingyu’s list. However, after your conversation with Minghao, you were still unsure if Mingyu actually wanted to go all the way with you.
“Nope,” he answered, smiling at you with questioning eyes as if his answer had already been clear as day. “Your list is pretty tame, y’know? Not that it’s a problem or anything.”
Before you could answer, he sucked in a sharp breath and looked over at the board again. “Actually, maybe we should get rid of your first one. It might mess with, uh, rule four.”
Ah, the fourth rule: The friendship must not be ruined, and if the friendship was ever in danger of being ruined, the contract would be terminated.
You were devastated that it had come back to bite you in the ass.
In an attempt to veil your disappointment, you shrugged and turned your head away so that your best friend wouldn’t see the rejection clouding your eyes.
“I’m just curious, but why’re you against kissing?” you asked. “I mean, I just feel like it’ll be awkward if we don’t.”
“You know, it’s the whole neurotransmitters and dopamine rush thing, Y/N,” he explained. If you weren’t feeling so miserable about your best friend turning you down, then you probably would have giggled at his random neuroscience tidbit. “It’s such an emotional act.”
Part of you understood Mingyu’s reasoning behind avoiding kissing. If you were so affected just by his words and eye contact now, then kissing him would mess with your emotions. You weren’t exactly sure if you held kissing at more of a sentimental level as Mingyu did, but you agreed that it intensified intimacy.
Before you were about to hesitantly accept his words, though, Mingyu added, “Judas, in fact, betrayed Jesus with a kiss.”
You couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth.
“Yeah,” you started, “I don’t think these situations are comparable.”
After gingerly prying the whiteboard eraser from your fingers, Mingyu crossed out “kissing” from your column. The dried ink from the dry erase marker streaked across the board, leaving fragments of ink scattered about that he didn’t bother wiping off. (You were a little distracted by the little zap of electricity that coursed through your veins after his fingers brushed against yours.)
Without missing a beat, Mingyu asked, “You don’t have, like, crabs or anything, right?”
“You’re accusing me of having pubic lice?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” he mumbled, “I guess it sort of sounds like I am. I mean, I don’t actually think you have crabs! I just—you know… it’s good to ask.”
“No, Mingyu, I don’t have crabs.”
“Good, good.” His voice trailed off awkwardly and he leaned against the frame of the whiteboard. His unrelaxed mannerisms were making you feel nervous. “That’s always good.”
“Do you have crabs?”
“I do. Her name’s Clawdia, but with a w, like claw.”
“Mingyu,” you warned.
“I’m kidding.” He held his hands up in defense. “No crabs here. Except Clawdia, but she belongs to Wonwoo.”
You rolled your eyes. Mingyu’s roommate since freshman year, Jeon Wonwoo, was someone you surprisingly didn’t have a lot of interactions with despite him and Mingyu being best friends. Whenever you went over to Mingyu’s place, Wonwoo was normally locked up in his room, either studying or gaming away.
Apparently, he also owned a crab.
“Alright, so,” you started in a small voice, “when do we start?”
His eye contact was galvanizing, sending little currents shooting up your spine. For a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. All you could think about was how brown Mingyu’s eyes were and how they swallowed you whole whenever his gaze set on you.
Normally, you could see glimmers of sunlight dancing across his irises. Now, the look in his eyes was almost ferocious, like two voids that sucked you in.
His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and you almost picked up on the raised pitch of his voice when he proposed, “How about later?”
“Later sounds perfect.”
Telling white lies became increasingly easier around Kim Mingyu.
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Later never came.
You were starting to experience major déjà vu because it was so like Mingyu to chicken out after giving his word. Not one phone call or text to meet up, nor did you two bring it up in day-to-day conversations.
On one particular night, though, Mingyu sent you a semi-suggestive message, asking for permission to come over. Since you figured you would be in for a long night, you made sure to shave and spritzed yourself all over with your favorite Givenchy perfume. To your dismay, Mingyu was quick to mention that he wanted to continue your Barbie movie marathon. You begrudgingly spent your night watching Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses.
(And you swore his fingers brushed against yours under the blanket you two shared, but when you glanced up at his face, flickering with the shifting TV light, he pulled his hand back faster than it happened.)
The very moment a Barbie movie would start playing, you knew that absolutely nothing would happen between you and Mingyu. And, even if he tried to initiate anything, you wouldn’t reciprocate because there was no fucking way you would taint your wholesome Barbie marathon experience with sexual intercourse.
A week flew by without any follow-up on the contract, but you supposed you were partly to blame, too. There were several times where you could have brought up the topic yourself, but you were just as hesitant as Mingyu. Talking about it was one thing, but acting on your hormones was a feat of its own.
All the waiting and anticipation over Mingyu hopefully making a move was simply making you hornier. It was hard to even think properly whenever you started daydreaming of his lips on top of yours, dragging down your neck, moving down your body—
“—and that’s why you will be receiving twenty boxes of Connect Fours.” Soonyoung finished, causing you to snap out of whatever fantasy was playing in your head.
You blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t really know how to articulate myself better here,” he said. “Twenty boxes of Connect—”
“No, no, I heard what you said,” you interrupted, “but why the fuck?”
He waved your question off. “That’s not important. What’s important is that you let me know when you get those twenty boxes.” He flashed you a grin and a thumbs-up when you just nodded, dazed. “Thanks. This is why I love you.”
You took a nervous sip from your vanilla milkshake. (Soonyoung worked for the Undergraduate Student Council, which meant you could exploit him for his free dining dollars.)
You couldn’t help but feel crushing guilt every time you spoke to Soonyoung, especially when you two were hanging out one-on-one like this. Mingyu had been harping on and on about how it wasn’t that big of a deal, but maybe it was because the thought of losing your virginity was such a huge deal to you that you kept brooding over your lie.
And, to make matters worse, all you could think about was Mingyu because you were horny out of your mind. The longer he stayed away from you, the longer you kept thinking about him. You almost wished he hadn’t initiated this stupid contract if he wasn’t going to follow through with it.
“Hey, look, it’s your walking wet dream,” Soonyoung said, and lo and behold, there he was: Kim Mingyu fitted in a sleeveless white shirt and gray sweatpants.
He was walking with Jungwoo, whom you assumed came from the gym, too. Mingyu’s hair was damp and matted to his neck, and his muscles were accentuated by a faint sheen of sweat. They didn’t notice you and Soonyoung at first, too occupied with their own conversation, but after Soonyoung hollered from the table you two were sitting at, the two men started looking around until they spotted you.
Maybe you were seeing things, but it was almost like Mingyu seized up at the sight of you.
“Y/N!” Jungwoo was looking at you as if a lightbulb just went off in his head. “I’m formally inviting you to join Kappa Sigma in Vegas this weekend.” When you were about to protest, he continued, “Apparently, Chan’s date flaked on him last minute, so he’s looking for someone else to go with him.”
You folded your arms across your chest. “So what’s the catch?”
“No catch. You get to go to Vegas for free and hang out with me and Soonyoung.”
“Seriously?”
Soonyoung grinned. “C’mon, it’s Sin City.”
Mingyu scoffed. “Wait, this weekend? Isn’t that kind of short notice?”
“It’s Vegas, and everything’s covered. All you have to do is pack a bag or two.” Jungwoo clicked his tongue before patting Mingyu’s chest. “You won’t mind, right? Y’know, since you two fucked and all.”
“Jungwoo!” you screeched, horrified by his blunt wording.
“What? It’s true.”
Mingyu lowered his gaze. “It just happened once. No big deal.”
“See, Mingyu doesn’t have any hard feelings,” Soonyoung said, elbowing you gently in an attempt to lighten your mood. “You have Chan’s number, right? Just shoot him a text when you decide.”
You nodded half-heartedly. Some sort of sick grief pressed against your lungs, snaking its way up your throat and making it hard to breathe. It grew hotter and hotter until you had to swallow it down before any tears started rolling down your cheeks.
“We gotta get to our next class,” Jungwoo said, jerking a thumb in Mingyu’s direction, “but just say yes! Think about it: free hotel, free transportation, free drinks—we’ve got you covered.”
“Yeah,” you muttered, huffy. “Maybe I will.”
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You felt stupid. Completely and utterly stupid.
Kim Mingyu, although easy on the eyes, was proving to be quite difficult for your heart.
It wasn’t like you two were dating, nor had either of you even kickstarted your friends with benefits relationship, so there was no reason for you to be upset over his words. As many times as you tried to push it down, you kept seeing his twisted expression when he uttered those three words that pricked you like thorns. No big deal.
No big deal that you felt like crying your eyes out over Kim Mingyu, who wasn’t even anything to you other than a friend. No big deal that you were curled up on your couch, watching a TV show that you were barely paying attention to, but the noise made you feel less alone. No big deal that you were scooping your cookies and cream ice cream into your mouth, thinking about how it was his favorite flavor.
The stupid part was that Mingyu was just covering up your mess. You two didn’t even have sex, and he was just going along with the lie that you came up with. There was no logical reason for you to be mad at him.
And you realized that logic wasn’t often involved in matters of the heart, anyway.
A knock came at your door at approximately 9:15 p.m.—right when you were about to take a shower and drag yourself to bed. You figured it was Mingyu before you even opened it because no one else would show up uninvited.
“Hey,” he said, taking note of your disheveled appearance with an agonizingly slow sweep of his eyes. An ugly part of your heart wanted to believe he possibly could have been checking you out. “Are you busy right now?”
“I was just doing my assignment, but it’s due tomorrow, so I’m chilling.”
“Sorry, I should’ve called or texted.”
You shook your head. “No, it’s all good. Did you need anything?”
You could see him visibly swallow before asking, “Can I come in?” As soon as you opened the door wider, letting Mingyu step through the entry-way, he turned to you and let his shoulders sag. “I feel like I fucked up somehow.”
“You didn’t fuck up,” you said, keeping your back turned to him as you closed and locked your door. Your hand lingered on the door knob for a moment until you pulled away and headed to your living room, hardly sparing Mingyu a glance. “You were just covering for our lie.”
That clearly wasn’t what was plaguing Mingyu, though. Even after you clarified that he hadn’t done anything wrong, it still looked like something was bothering him. His eyes were hard and his jaw was jutting out, which was what his face usually set into when he was sulking.
“Are you really going to Vegas?” he asked, then added, “With Chan?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know yet. It sounds fun. I mean, they’re covering practically everything for me, so I might.”
The reality was that you didn’t care if you went to Vegas or not. Sure, you were more interested after finding out that you didn’t have to pay for transportation or the hotel. Plus, getting to spend time with Jungwoo and Soonyoung away from your college town sounded like a fun experience.
However, you didn’t like the idea of being Chan’s replacement date. You also didn’t want him to feel obligated to go with you just because he had no one else to go with. You also didn’t know what being his date actually entailed because you didn’t want the whole weekend to consist of his frat brothers egging him on to make a move on you.
Like Mingyu said, it was short notice. You were definitely going to feel stressed about making plans for Vegas when it was days away. Not only did you have to pack, but you had to make sure you were all caught up on your schoolwork before you spent your weekend drinking and partying. It didn’t help that you weren’t even done with your assignments due tomorrow.
Mingyu frowned. “You do realize it’s this weekend, right? And you’re probably gonna have to skip your Friday classes to make it.”
“Yeah, I realize that.” You scoffed. “I don’t see why it concerns you, though, considering you and I have both skipped classes before just because we didn’t feel like going. Do you not want me to go or something?”
“It’s completely your decision.”
“If it’s completely my decision, then why are you here? And why are we talking about this?”
He faltered, stammering over words that he couldn’t string together before saying, “Look, it’s your choice whether you go or not. I’m not gonna sit here and tell you I don’t want you to go.”
You paused. A stupid jolt of your heart made you ask, “You don’t want me to go?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You literally just did.”
Mingyu took a moment to replay his own words in his head, his expression morphing from confused to dumbfounded in a matter of seconds. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before letting out a heavy sigh.
“Okay, yeah,” he said, “but I didn’t say that to change your mind or anything.”
“Well, if you’re gonna bring it up, then at least give me a reason to stay,” you said with an exasperated breath, “or else why should I pass up a free trip to Vegas?”
He pulled away quicker than it happened. One minute you were frustrated, and the next you felt Mingyu’s soft lips pressed against yours for a brief moment. Then, you were frustrated again because it was over so soon. You were blinking away your shock as Mingyu’s hair tickled your face before pulling back.
He kissed you.
Kim Mingyu kissed you.
“You could just stay here,” he murmured in that velvety voice of his, reaching over to card a hand through your hair, brushing that one spot under your ear that made you shudder, “with me.”
Your eyes followed his movements while the rest of your body was frozen, stunned by the sudden physical contact. Mingyu’s voice grew huskier and his eyes darker, but all you could think about were how big his hands were as his fingers ghosted your collarbone.
His lips tugged up in amusement because from one glance, anyone could tell he had an effect on you. There was no denying the electric current running through your body; it was making it harder and harder for you to resist him.
You wasted no time in pulling him down by his collar and kissed him with earnest longing tucked into the corners of your lips.
He didn’t reciprocate until his eyes glazed over with lust, and then Mingyu was grabbing at your waist and pulling you closer. His touch burned, nearly making you flinch underneath the pads of his fingers. If you were being perfectly honest with yourself, there were times where you imagined his lips on yours like this—a thought that crept into your head whenever you saw girls chatting him up at parties.
In sophomore year, Mingyu had a thing with a girl named Hayoung for a few months. There wasn’t a party that would go by without you seeing Mingyu in a corner with her, whispering little secrets that they would laugh at. That was also the year when you became scarily good at hiding your lingering stares. You eventually mastered the art of people-watching without being caught.
And, deep down, you were probably jealous.
And that was probably why you felt like you were in the clouds when Mingyu’s lips were finally on yours.
The two of you were soon engulfed in a cloud of lust once Mingyu nipped at your bottom lip with his sharp canines and slid his tongue into your mouth. You let slip a sound that was something between a whimper and exhale, but it was quickly muffled by Mingyu’s mouth pressing harder against yours, licking into your mouth eagerly. It was as if your lips were molding together in perfect harmony.
It felt as though time melted away, pooling at your feet until you couldn’t move one bit. You felt Mingyu’s big hands ravage down your body while yours were looped around his neck. Just when he started tugging at your clothes, he pulled back and sucked in a sharp breath to ground himself.
You did the same, letting your chest rise and fall steadily as you stared up at him with hints of lust in your eyes that hadn’t ebbed away just yet.
A few moments of silence passed before Mingyu looked toward the whiteboard that you had moved up against the wall.
“Why was kissing on your list, anyway?” he pressed. “You’ve already done it before, so it’s not like it’s anything new to you.” You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Nothing was making sense in your own head. Mingyu stepped closer to you and let his gaze fall to your lips. “Is there another reason?”
You two were impossibly close. So close that you could smell the cologne wafting off him. Feel the cold metal of his chain against your skin.
You were positive that Mingyu could pick up on the nervous hitch in your breathing. Your stomach knotted tighter and tighter as he towered over you, and your heart bruised against your rib cage with how hard it was beating.
“I guess I just felt like I wanted to kiss you,” you admitted, dropping your voice so low that it was barely audible.
But Mingyu heard it. It was clear by the unmistakable grin that stretched across his face.
Always the gentleman, Mingyu asked, “Does that mean we’re ready for step two?”
“What’s step two?”
“Step two on losing your virginity,” Mingyu announced with a dramatic flourish of his wrist to amplify his theatrical voice, “is to set the mood.”
You were pretty sure you and Mingyu already had a good mood going on until he interrupted to announce that.
“Wait, so you were waiting for…” You cut yourself off, shaking your head in disbelief as your eyes focused on his sheepish grin.
“You have to actually want me so that we can start,” he reasoned. “I can’t, like, make you feel good if you’re not into it.”
“But you knew I was attracted to you. I literally called you a ‘walking wet dream’ in front of all our friends.”
“That’s different. You finding me hot isn’t the same as wanting to kiss me.”
“O-okay,” you stammered, “but how do I know if you feel the same way or not?”
“Well,” Mingyu started in that low, husky voice of his, setting his hands on your hips after a beat of hesitation and pulling you closer, “I could just show you.”
His breath was hot against your ear, and you felt as if it lulled you into some sort of trance as he pulled you toward him. Closer and closer until he was sitting on your couch and pulling you on top of him. Before you could even straddle Mingyu properly, he started planting kisses up the column of your neck. Each one grew more hungry than the last as he nipped and sucked at your tender skin.
This was not happening.
Well, of course this was supposed to happen, but you hadn’t exactly mentally prepared yourself for this very moment. The very moment when you and Mingyu would physically cross the line of friendship.
“That feel good?” he purred against your skin, the vibrations making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The fire in his stare made you feel like putty in his hands.
“Mmhm,” was all you could muster without falling apart, so you just wrapped your arms around him tighter.
You winced when he bit down on a particularly sensitive patch of your flesh. For a while, Mingyu just sucked and nipped at the side of your neck until he was pulling back and you were whining for more. His thumb brushed against the bluish-black mark he created, and you could only imagine how much concealer you were going to need to cover it up.
His lips attached to your neck again. For a moment, you thought he was going to give you another hickey until his pecks traveled up all the way to kiss a tender spot under your ear, and then you two froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to proceed. Mingyu’s lips tugged into a frown as he looked at you with an inquisitive hum.
His gaze fell to your lips. “Should I just—”
He cut you off with a swift, experimental peck to your lips. A small smile tugged at his lips when he saw how flustered you looked after.
“Mingyu,” you said in a small voice, “I thought you said no kissing?”
“I don’t care anymore.”
Once again, his lips chased yours until he successfully captured them in a searing kiss. You immediately melted in his hold, and even though part of you was screaming at the other half to stop and think about what you and your best friend were doing, all you cared about was the way Mingyu pulled you closer by the waist, higher onto his lap.
Yet, although you were unbearably horny, you still flinched when Mingyu’s fingers slid under your shirt and sprawled out against your bare midriff.
He froze instantly and then drew his hands back until they were resting on your thighs. You couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh, curling your hands into fists so that your nails were pressing crescent-shaped indents into your palms.
You shook your head, your breath stuttering in your chest. “I’m sorry. I’m all good. I just need to—”
“No, no, don’t apologize,” Mingyu said, reaching over to brush your hair out of your face. His other hand stayed on your thigh and gave you a comforting squeeze. “We’re doing this at your pace, remember? We can stop whenever you want.”
But even though he said the right words to put you at ease, you still couldn’t help but feel frustrated with yourself. You just didn’t understand why you had that mental block keeping you from going further. The mixture of discontent and irritation painted across your face was clear as day. But you didn’t want to feel like an idiot in front of Mingyu, so you uncurled your fists and placed your hands on his chest instead.
“Can we try again tomorrow?” you asked shyly.
A single angry tear slid down your cheek, which Mingyu took notice of and promptly wiped from your face with his thumb.
“Of course.” His eyes were a little wide, like he was momentarily buffering while he was trying to figure out how to comfort you. His eyes darted around the room before they settled on the TV remote you kept neatly on top of a stack of books on the coffee table. “Wanna continue our marathon? I think we’re on Island Princess now.”
After you nodded, Mingyu gently helped you off his lap so that you two could watch the movie together. As he toyed with your remote, you couldn’t help but glance at his arms, watching his biceps flex under his shirt. You thought about how they were just circled around your body, and you soon wished his touch was back on your skin.
A short while into the movie, Mingyu’s hand found itself on top of your knee, and you bit back a small smile as it stayed there for the rest of the night.
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Mingyu spent another night on the couch—accidentally, because you two fell asleep in the middle of Barbie and the Island Princess—but, this time, you ended up spending the night right next to him.
Of course, nothing happened other than you tossing and turning a few times due to Mingyu’s snores and prying yourself out of his grip so that you could nestle into your blanket. It was an unfortunate fate that you and Mingyu wound up waking up on opposite sides of the couch.
You kept your eyes screwed shut after you woke up, though, choosing to wallow in your own thoughts for the first ten minutes of your day. You couldn’t get over what happened between you and Mingyu last night, and it was making you dread the thought of facing him once you opened your eyes. You were praying that he wouldn’t regret what went down.
It made you feel better that he didn’t shy away from you during the movie. He even made some light jokes about what you two did, which, at the very least, made you glad that he wasn’t having second thoughts.
(“I don’t know why they didn’t call you Captain Chastity By Choice,” Mingyu blurted out while scooping popcorn into his mouth. “We already knocked out half your list.”)
“Morning,” he grumbled in that husky morning voice that made your stomach feel like you were free-falling off a cliff. His soft, sleepy eyes gave you a once-over before he said, “I know you’re awake, Y/N.”
You had been peeking at him through barely-open eyes, but you gave up your farce and straightened up to face him properly.
“Good morning,” you greeted back. “Sleep well?”
He hummed before leaning in to peck your lips—a gesture that caught you off-guard because you didn’t think he would just start casually kissing you whenever. It felt far too intimate for you to brush it off as hormones acting up. You didn’t have the time to ask Mingyu why he did that before he started complaining.
You thought back to the whiteboard where Mingyu crossed out kissing, leaving behind faint traces of dry ink.
“Sort of,” he replied with a pout. “You stole the blanket! I had to curl up in the corner because I was freezing.”
He was rubbing small circles on your thigh with his thumb as he spoke, and you wondered if he knew the effect he had on you.
“By the way,” he continued, “I have an idea.”
“What’s your idea?”
“Let’s not make sex our goal. We can start slow today—maybe just foreplay until you’re comfortable with me.” He straightened up and crossed his legs so that he could face you. “No one’s taken the time to make you feel comfortable first, right?”
You recalled your list of unsuccessful trysts, starting with good old Mark Lee, who unfortunately became reduced to an inside joke in your friend group. After that, you were only intimate with two other men in your college years.
One was Choi Yeonjun, who you stopped while he was in the middle of stripping down so that you could make your escape. He was hot and all, but your nerves caught up to you by the time his tongue was down your throat. The other was Lee Minho, who was an absolute sweetheart, but you ended up calling an Uber to take you home after you saw his (somewhat intimidating) hard-on.
They were quite embarrassing recollections.
“You’re gonna spend the whole day making me feel comfortable?” you asked, and there was a hopeful gleam in your eyes that made Mingyu feel like he was a supernova among stars.
“If that’s what it takes.”
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You had to appreciate Mingyu’s commitment.
After making pancakes for you and showing you Reddit stories on TikTok as you ate (which you also spent nearly an hour dissecting afterward), he got right to pulling you onto his lap and tracing a path up and down your forearms. Of course, he let you keep scrolling through his TikTok because you had gotten so immersed in the Reddit stories. Mingyu offered commentary as you two listened to each one under your new favorite profile of the hour.
“Her boyfriend invited another girl to his team dinner?” Mingyu gasped upon hearing the further details, still ghosting his large hands along your arms.
“Not the asshole,” you confirmed at the end with an adamant nod. “He was totally shutting her down when she told him she was uncomfortable.”
“He’s definitely got feelings for the other girl.”
You nearly sucked in a breath at his words. For whatever reason, the very mention of feelings made your nerves feel like cut wire. It was probably because whatever you and Mingyu had become was toeing the line of situationship.
Later, you ended up laying on top of him as a random Disney movie played on your TV. You didn’t exactly remember the process of you two choosing what to watch, but neither of you paid any attention after Mingyu slipped his hands past the hem of your shirt. The pads of his fingers burned against your skin as he drew circles on your bare waist.
“Higher,” you whispered.
Mingyu hummed inquisitively, peering down at you with an amused smile. He ran his hands up your torso so that his fingers rested right under the underwire of your bra.
“Like that?” he asked, and the teasing inflection in his voice made it clear that he was waiting for you to beg for more. And, oh, he loved the look on your face as you fought down your embarrassment. You shook your head before he cooed, “No?”
“No,” you echoed, “higher.”
Mingyu’s fingers slid up just enough to feel the wiring lining your bra cups. He frowned and moved one hand to the small of your back, snaking his hand up until he was holding onto the clasp.
“Mind if I get this out of the way?”
“Go ahead.”
He unclasped your bra with expert precision, his fingers working effortlessly to undo the hook. Your eyes were practically bugging open as you felt the fabric fall from your chest, wondering where in the world Mingyu learned how to do that. You didn’t have the mind to ask, though, because as soon as your bra straps came loose and fell down your shoulders, Mingyu’s hands cupped your breasts and squeezed experimentally.
This was probably the farthest you had gone in terms of physical touch, and you didn’t feel strange at all. Something about Mingyu’s touch was comforting, like the warmth of the sun enveloping you whole.
He rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, making you wince upon contact. You didn’t realize you were so sensitive already. It was clearly affecting Mingyu, too; you could feel something hard poking your thigh, and from what you gathered, it was impressively large under his sweatpants.
“So,” you started, a little too nervous for your liking, “all this is supposed to help me feel comfortable during sex?”
“Yeah, I worked it all out in my head,” Mingyu said between intervals of circling your nipple with his thumb and kissing your neck. “This is all part of my extremely helpful guide to helping you lose your virginity.”
“I wouldn’t call it extremely helpful, considering you’re a virgin yourself.” You laughed when Mingyu pouted in response. “What? I’m just saying I don’t think you have the credentials.”
“I will in”—he proceeded to check an imaginary watch on his wrist—“two business days.”
Two business days, as in the two days Soonyoung and Jungwoo had left for their Vegas trip. Mingyu was determined for you both to lose your virginities by then, although he reassured you over and over again that you could always speak up if you needed more time.
You had been getting several updates from Soonyoung and Jungwoo throughout the day. Apparently, Chan ended up going stag, but last night you saw two girls draped over him on Jungwoo’s Snapchat story. It made you feel a little less bad about turning down being his date.
“Plus,” Mingyu continued, “I have no problem getting naked right now. You’re the one who’s holding back.”
There was a challenging fire in your eyes. “You have no problem?”
“Nope.”
“Alright.” You put your hands over Mingyu’s and pushed them away from your body. “Then strip. Getting comfortable being naked means we have to actually be naked, right?”
“That means you have to undress, too.”
“Fine.”
He looked amused. “Fine.”
Fuck.
You were nervous.
And surprisingly, it wasn’t the thought of being naked in front of Mingyu that made you nervous, it was seeing your best friend completely nude that had you worried. It was no surprise to anyone that Mingyu was a looker, and you weren’t sure you were ready what he looked like under those clothes.
Mingyu gently moved you off of him and stood up to start stripping off his pants and shirt. His shirt came off in a single, swift motion, revealing his toned, muscular body. Years of work were etched in the grooves of his abdomen, his soft stomach complemented by strong muscle. Mingyu was never the type to show off his body at the gym, but you were starting to wish you were prepared for how gorgeous he was.  
Next, he pushed his sweatpants down until the fabric swamped his ankles. You swallowed hard when you saw the growing bulge in his boxers, but seconds later you were looking at how his hard cock stood right up as soon as his boxers had been discarded somewhere across your living room floor.
He was huge.
“Your turn,” he murmured.
You felt your pulse race.
“That’s not fitting inside me,” you blurted out, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “There’s no way that fits inside me.”
“It’ll fit, Y/N,” he replied softly, reaching forward to take your hands in his. “I’ll do everything I can to make it fit comfortably, and if it doesn’t work out, then we can just keep trying at whatever pace works for you.” You looked skeptical but Mingyu held up his pinky finger. “Promise.”
There was no room for you to doubt him when he was looking at you with those big, hopeful eyes. So, you hooked your pinky finger with his and smiled when he helped you take off your shirt, still keeping your fingers interlocked.
Since you normally slept without a bra, your torso was fully bare once your shirt was off, so Mingyu nearly choked on his spit when he saw you. You moved your free hand to slide your shorts down while his eyes were fixed on the swell of your breasts.
“Can I motorboat your tits?” he asked bluntly.
You snorted immediately, taken aback by his straightforward question. Not only that, but your pinky fingers were still hooked together—a rather intimate gesture followed by a vulgar question.
“Whoa there, Sex Education. Let’s take it down a notch.”
He chuckled before sitting back down on the couch. You thought he would’ve wanted to take care of his hard-on, but Mingyu just held out his arms to you.
“What?” you asked, letting him grab your waist and pull you flush to his chest. Your brows furrowed more when he grabbed the TV remote from your coffee table. “What’re you doing?”
“We have to finish Barbie and the Island Princess, don’t we?”
You gave him a look before it clicked for you. This was all part of Mingyu’s plan to make you feel comfortable—pushing your limits and then settling for something that would put you at ease—so you cozied up to him and let him play the movie.
A demure smile stretched across your face. “Only if we can cuddle.”
“As my lady commands,” he joked, and then you were both laughing.
(And, spoiler: he did more than cuddle.
The way he kissed you made you feel like you were standing on hot coals. His tongue was halfway down your throat and his hands ran up and down your sides. You kissed him until your lungs burned for oxygen and you had to pull back for air. Mingyu peppered love bites all over your body and, by the end of the night, you two were a tangled mess of limbs on the floor with your sweat matting your hair down.
But, most importantly, you two finally got through Barbie and the Island Princess.)
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There were a few reasons why Mingyu was roommates with Jeon Wonwoo.
He specifically chose not to room with someone in the friend group for two reasons: the first reason was because Wonwoo’s living habits aligned more with his, and the second reason was to avoid any possibility of ruining the friendship dynamic. Mingyu had his fair share of horror roommate stories, dating back to freshman year when his roommate in the dorms lived like a slob and muttered borderline psychopathic threats in his sleep. You remembered countless nights when Mingyu would knock at your door and ask if he could sleep on the floor.
For Mingyu, Wonwoo was his only saving grace since sophomore year.
You had gone to their room a few times, but you never overstayed your welcome. Although Wonwoo never complained, you felt guilty every time he walked out of his room with AirPods in. It was like he knew to block you out when he heard you coming in.
Today, since Mingyu had been working on code all day, you offered to bring him boba from the farmer’s market that you went to with Ryujin.
You double-checked the label on the side before handing him the drink. “Strawberry matcha.”
“Thanks. I’ve been deprived of boba since fall semester.” He grinned as he tore the plastic wrapping his straw was in. Mingyu popped the straw into the sealing film and took a sip before handing it to you. “Want some?”
“Sure.” You graciously took the cup to sip the delicious fruity blend. Shyly, you added, “It’s also a thank you… for last night. You actually helped a lot.”
You could tell Mingyu was fighting down a smirk; you could practically hear it in his tone. “Oh, did I?”
“Yeah, I actually did feel a lot more comfortable after all that.”
He flashed you a bright grin. “See? It’s the guide.”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
“I’m serious! It’s effective, isn’t it?” He set his drink down to turn his chair and look up at you properly. “You may think I thought of all that on a whim, but I really put extensive thought into it.”
You had to give him credit for the whole scientific method thing he had going on. You wondered if Mingyu’s consecutive six years of participation in the science fair had prepared him for this very moment.
“Extensive thought,” you echoed. “What? Did you write it all down in a notebook or something?” You laughed it off like it was a joke, but when Mingyu’s expression didn’t budge, you realized that you had hit the nail on the head. “Oh my god, you wrote it down!”
Mingyu huffed. “It’s not even that big of a deal! Writing stuff down helps me organize my thoughts.”
“Well, can I see it?”
“Hell no.”
“Just tell me which notebook you wrote it in.”
“No, ‘cause then you’re gonna look at it later.”
Mingyu thought he was subtle enough to pick up the notebook in front of him and move it away from your reach. Rookie mistake.
Your eyes followed his movements.
“That’s the one, isn’t it?” you asked, pointing at the red notebook that you’ve seen Mingyu jot notes down in before. He always carried it in his school bag, and you were starting to piece together why you hadn’t seen it around lately.
“N-no.”
“You’re such a bad liar, Gyu.” You hardly noticed his hands finding the backs of your thighs and pulling you down to straddle his knees. “Will you ever let me see it?”
“Maybe,” he replied, “or I can just show you what I have planned.”
It was then when you realized that the front of Mingyu’s jeans did look strained. The visible outline of his bulge made you unconsciously clench, which he smirked at once he felt the pulsation against his leg. You weren’t even sure if he was fully hard, but you could definitely feel him through your cotton shorts once you were pulled onto his thighs.
His lips found yours in seconds. Days ago, this was something you were hesitant about doing, but now it came more naturally. Your hands moved in a familiar path from his chest to loop around his neck, and then it was like a switch turned on for your best friend.
You broke from the kiss for air and you both looked down, foreheads touching as Mingyu grabbed your ass with rough hands and helped you grind down on him. Your head clouded over, and all you could think about was moving your hips to meet his so that you could chase the growing ache between your legs.
“That’s right,” he rasped. “That’s a good girl.”
Oh, if he knew the effect his words had on you. You were shamefully ruining the front of his jeans with how aroused you were.
At this point, his hardened length felt massive under you, so you lifted your hips to see just how big his pants had tented up. Mingyu’s grip on you loosened and he lowered his head, embarrassed. Before he could apologize, though, you got off his lap and sank to your knees.
Ever-so-sweetly, you asked, “Can I help?”
You swore you had never seen Mingyu look so blown away in his life.
“A-are you sure?”
“Of course.” You pouted. “You’ve been doing so much for me, and I wanna make you feel good, too.” You balanced your forearms on his knees and grinned up at him, watching his Adam’s apple bob nervously. “So, can I?”
“Please,” he nearly whimpered, fumbling with his zipper to get his jeans and black Calvin Klein boxers down. You helped him out graciously, tugging the fabric down to his ankles and marveling at his cock once it sprung up, curved slightly to your left. Mingyu nearly fell apart when he saw you between his legs, letting out an eager groan. “Jesus Christ, Y/N.”
“You’re really big,” you mumbled, tracing his v-line accentuated by his taut muscles, then his hip, and then the long vein that ran down his shaft with your thumb.
You weren’t even sure if you would be able to take all of him in your mouth. Plus, this wasn’t exactly your area of expertise. You knew this wasn’t Mingyu’s first time receiving head, so you were slightly intimidated. You were slightly terrified about possibly not being good at sucking dick, but you figured your mouth could do a better job than his right hand.
But you had already come this far.
Mingyu’s hand carded through your hair, pulling it back from your face. The gesture only made your confidence falter, wanting to just melt like putty in his grip. You reached out to wrap your hand around his shaft, surprised how rock-hard it was. That just made it all the more nerve-wracking to take him down your throat.
He seemed to pick up on your hesitation, gently asking, “Want me to talk you through it?”
You looked up at him and nodded, flushing hotly when you saw his sincere eyes gleam with amusement.
“Open your mouth,” he instructed, grabbing your jaw and gently pressing down on your bottom lip with his thumb. You obeyed and parted your lips just enough for him to slide his thumb into your mouth. “Wider.”
You complied. Mingyu adjusted his hips quickly before encouraging you with a nudge to put your mouth over the head of his cock. You wrapped your lips over his tip, licking off the precum that beaded his slit, and Mingyu hissed sharply.
He let out a sharp breath and let his gaze fly to the ceiling, gripping the arm of his chair. “Fuck, Y/N.”
Mingyu calling out your name so desperately only spurred you to take more of his cock until it hit the roof of your mouth. You were addicted to the sounds of his whimpers, relishing each high-pitched whine from him as you licked the underside of his head. Before, you thought the act of giving head was just extra work for women, but now you were starting to see why it was so addicting. Every moan and cry from Mingyu just made your pride inflate.
You looked up at him through your lashes to see the breathtaking view of his head thrown back and neck veins strained. Mingyu’s hips bucked up slightly, but he fought down his moans to make sure Wonwoo didn’t hear anything.
“Sorry,” he grunted out, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss. “Couldn’t help it.”
You pulled off of him for a moment to reply, “I don’t mind if you do it again.”
“Really?” His voice was almost breathless, half-surprised and half-excited.
You nodded, and Mingyu regained his composure a little so that he could sit up and slide his hand into your hair once more. Your lips wrapped around his cock again and sucked gently on his impressive length. His fingers buried themselves into your hair for leverage so that he could hold onto you while he started slowly moving his hips into your mouth.
With the way Mingyu was moving, you could feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. He looked at you for confirmation to continue, so you nodded eagerly and sat up higher on your knees to take him in fully.
The first push into your mouth he did was meek—just enough to get the tip of his head down your throat. You tried to relax your throat to take him in easier, blinking back a few stray tears that were brought on by your gag reflex. The second push was a little stronger, getting a little deeper, which roused a moan out of you. Mingyu must have felt the vibration in his cock because he groaned and bucked his hips into your mouth rougher. His thumb found your bottom lip and rubbed it gently, as if he was prying it open wider.
“Fuck, Y/N, your mouth feels so good,” Mingyu breathed out, soft grunts and curses falling from his lips as he went faster.
His free hand wiped away the tears that started streaming down your cheeks. You were past the point of slight discomfort now, and now you were too focused on listening to Mingyu’s pretty moans to think about anything else.
Without any proper warning, Mingyu’s entire body tensed up and he let out a loud groan, shooting his cum down your throat. He threw his head back, and then his whole body relaxed. His grip on your hair tightened and loosened. You squeezed your eyes shut and swallowed down his load before you pulled off of him, watching his chest heave as he tried to control his breathing.
“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologized profusely. Still winded from his own high, Mingyu was stumbling over his own words. “I didn’t… didn’t think it would happen that fast.” He opened his eyes again and nearly fell apart at the sight of you. “Fuck. Did you really swallow?”
You nodded, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah, I remember Jungwoo told me before that spitters are quitters, or something like that.”
The tension was thick in the room. Although you intended for your comment to lighten things up, the look in Mingyu’s eyes only darkened.
“Come here.”
You could only squeak in surprise as Mingyu pulled you up to kiss him, his rough hands cupping your cheeks. He didn’t seem to care that he was tasting himself on your tongue, and the act only made you moan against his lips. Seconds stretched into minutes before he pulled back.
“My turn,” he said. “Take off your shorts and get on the bed.”
You were reaching to tug down your shorts before he had even finished talking. After sitting down on the edge of your bed, your fingers flew down to tug at your underwear, but Mingyu got to it before you did. He knelt so that he was between your thighs, looking up at you carefully as he slid the cloth past your ankles and lifted one of your legs higher before propping it over his shoulder.
He pulled you in by the hips, dragging his nose up your middle thigh until it reached the apex of your legs. You looked down at Mingyu, breath hitching as you put your other leg over his free shoulder. His hands slid up your thighs and gripped your hips tightly. His long fingers were splayed out at your abdomen, and you felt your stomach flutter.
“No one’s ever gone down on you, huh?” he asked, and you confirmed his statement with a shake of your head. “Just sit back and let me do all the work, then.”
Your nerves caught up to you for a moment. You started to overthink, wondering if the position you were in was unflattering, or if you even tasted good down there, or if Mingyu was only doing this because he felt obligated.
But then he circled your clit with his tongue and you couldn’t think at all.
You cut yourself off by slapping a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the moan that threatened to slip. Your train of thought had completely derailed when Mingyu licked a long stripe between your folds. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as he flattened his tongue against your cunt to taste you better. A soft groan from him vibrated through your core and up your spine.
Your back arched almost immediately. “Oh—oh my god.”
He started kissing your cunt, and god, it all felt so dirty. You had never felt this way before, and now that you knew that Mingyu’s tongue could make you feel this good, you were starting to see the full appeal of sex. He paused to suck on your clit, and you felt like you were short-circuiting while he ate you out like a man starved.
A pressure started building. You grew anxious and shot right up, tugging on Mingyu’s hair. He was unaware of your panic at first, and then he lifted his head once he felt you tap his shoulder repeatedly. Once his mouth was gone, though, you felt that pressure ebbing away.
“Something wrong?” he asked. “Need me to stop?”
You had to push down all of your shame to admit, “I think I have to use the bathroom.”
To your surprise, Mingyu just laughed. “The bathroom?”
“I’m serious!” You flushed, and the warmth that prickled your skin was different this time.
“I promise you, that’s not what you’re feeling,” he said, rubbing your thigh with his thumb in slow circles. His voice was gentle, like he was trying to soothe your nerves. “Just trust me and let that pressure keep building. Eventually, it’s gonna reach a point where it can’t hold itself in anymore, and then you’re gonna feel really good.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, so just relax for me, okay?”
You let out a shaky breath, nodding before sitting back in your previous position where you had your elbows propped up. Mingyu returned to your cunt with an experimental lick, lasting all of two seconds before he resorted back to his rough kissing and sucking.
You held onto the sheets for dear life as Mingyu plunged his hot tongue into your core, reaching a specific spot that made your eyes roll back and your toes curl. He kept your hips pinned to the mattress as he licked into you. His nose brushed against your clit with how close his face was. It was the final push to send you over the edge, and the warmth that had been building up finally unleashed into blinding white pleasure.
You came hard. The force of your orgasm nearly knocked the wind out of you, and your back was lifting off the bed as Mingyu tried to hold your hips down with great effort. The warmth of it coursed through your entire body, causing the surface of your skin to bead with sweat and cling to the sheets you were laying on.
And, as a photographer, Mingyu had taken pictures of countless gorgeous views that he’d come across in his lifetime, but the sight of you falling apart because of him was, by far, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He pulled back to rub your clit in gentle circles while you were being pulled and swept away by the undertow of your orgasm. Mingyu murmured sweet nothings to keep you grounded, but you couldn’t process any of his words as your ears rang with white noise.
You blinked slowly as you came down from your high, whining as soon as Mingyu took his hand away from your sore clit. Before you were going to praise him for how good he was with his mouth, his lips returned to clean up the mess you made. You could only writhe and whimper as Mingyu licked at your soaking cunt.
He pulled back to grin at you, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. You had always thought Mingyu looked attractive, but he was godly like this. Your heart raced just by looking at how his dark hair fell into his face and how his canines showed in his smile.
“Earth to Y/N,” he called, waving a hand in front of your face. When you snapped back into reality, you shot him a questioning look. “I was asking how you’re feeling.”
“Good—great,” you corrected, and then you let out a blissful sigh. “Amazing.”
“Great.” He grinned. “Ready for round two?”
“Round two?”
“Yeah, beautiful. You didn’t think we were done yet, right?”
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“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” Ryujin looked mortified upon first glance of the bruises that littered your neck. “Are you hooking up with a leech?”
You had gone over to Ryujin’s apartment to drop off one of the prints she got from the farmer’s market and left in your car. Naturally, you ended up spending the evening there. Since you were so eager to share what had happened between you and Mingyu (telling Vernon or Minghao simply wasn’t an option right now), you ended up spilling everything that went down.
From the contract to you and Mingyu going down on each other earlier today, Ryujin hung onto every single word of yours with her jaw hanging in an almost comical way. She was shoveling handfuls of Hot Cheetos into her mouth as you gave her a detailed rundown of the story.
“This is so messy,” she gushed. “I love it.”
“It’s not messy!” you defended, and then added, “Okay, it’s a little messy, but we agreed to stop if it ever starts affecting our friendship.”
“So, you think sucking and fucking isn’t going to affect your friendship at all?”
You stayed silent.
“You should know that cross-contamination in the friend group most likely leads to disaster,” Ryujin continued as she popped a Hot Cheeto in her mouth. “It’s all fun and games because you guys think you’ll be able to maintain the friendship, but as soon as someone catches feelings, it’s over.”
A heavy sigh fell from your lips. “To be honest, I’m a little worried.”
“Worried?”
“We had this whole rule against kissing and it lasted, like, a week,” you explained. “I mean, we didn’t even do anything during that week, so I guess it lasted, like, five minutes. The rule was supposed to be there so that we wouldn’t catch feelings or anything, but Mingyu completely ignores it now. I’m not reading too deeply into this, right?”
Ryujin pondered in thought for a moment before redirecting the question back to you. “Do you want it to be deeper than it is?”
You frowned. “Huh?”
“Like, think about it,” Ryujin said. “Remember when you had a little crush on Mingyu during freshman year? Well, sometimes attraction doesn’t go away, so maybe your old feelings are coming back up now that you guys are, like, hooking up. Probably doesn’t help that Mingyu’s considered conventionally attractive.”
Sure, you had your occasional moments of weakness bubble up to the surface. It was something you tried to keep under wraps, but you were sure Mingyu could pick up on it whenever you were being extra touchy after intimacy.
They were never really of concern to you, though. You figured that you and Mingyu would live out the rest of your lives in parallel lines, neither of you crossing over to the other. It was what made your relationship with him rather simple, really. You would never cross over to his side, and he would never cross over to yours.
That was, until the contract was put into place.
“I don’t know…” you trailed off, and Ryujin clearly wasn’t pleased with your answer.
“Y/N, imagine him kissing another girl,” your friend instructed. She motioned for you to close your eyes, so you groaned and did as she said. You cleared your head to make room for whatever visualization she was making you do. “Imagine him kissing that girl from the Kap Sig party last year. The one who was all giggly and talkative when Mingyu was with us, and then she ignored us after he left.”
“Oh.” You made a face, not even wanting to picture that in your head. “Yeah, I don’t like that, but that girl was bitchy. I don’t think that necessarily means I have feelings for Mingyu, though.”
“Now, imagine him kissing the most likable girl you can think of,” she said. “This girl is the perfect match for Mingyu. She’s gorgeous, and she has a shoulder tattoo—the kind he went crazy over in freshman year. Not only that, but she’s smart. She takes good care of him. She brings him and his friends cookies whenever she bakes. She’s the kind of girl that everyone can’t help but adore when they meet her for the first time.”
You tried to really picture it in your head this time.
You imagined Mingyu next to someone who would be in his league, someone who made people want to stop and stare. You imagined how he would be complimented wherever he went for him and his girlfriend being such an attractive couple.
You imagined him making dinner for her and eating together. You imagined him laughing at inside jokes only the two of them knew about. You imagined him watching Barbie movies with her.
And it made your heart twist painfully.
You decided to shrug it off instead, saying, “If he’s happy, I’m happy.”
“Enough with that shit,” Ryujin deadpanned. “I’m here for drama. Give me something to work with, at least.” She shook her head disappointedly, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her. Once you simmered down, she continued, “But, in all seriousness, I think you should really be careful with whatever you and Mingyu have going on. It won’t end pretty if someone catches feelings while the other person doesn’t.”
You pressed your lips together in a grim line. “You’re right. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Anyway, back to the juicy stuff,” Ryujin said, inching closer to you while hugging her knees. “What else did you guys do?”
“We sixty-nined,” you whispered, as if it was some scandalous bit of gossip. “He was the six; I was the nine.”
“Okay, never mind, let’s tone down the juicy.”
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You woke up to several Snapchat notifications from Jungwoo. They were all sent at four in the morning, and most of them were just him running through the streets of Las Vegas at night without his shirt on. You were mildly concerned, but you figured they were just having fun.
You tapped through the other snaps Jungwoo sent you. Soonyoung blacked out on a bar counter. A hooker sitting on Chan’s lap. Jeonghan with several hundred dollar bills in his hands. Another snap of Jeonghan with the caption stating that he lost all his money.
Then, it struck you that it was their last day in Vegas.
“We have one more day,” you informed Mingyu over the phone, “and then we have to start seeing each other secretly.”
“That’s kinda hot.”
“No! Not hot! I don’t know about you, but I experience crushing guilt whenever I have to sneak around them, like when I lied about us sleeping together.”
“Technically, we’re already doing that.”
You snorted. “You know what I mean.”
“By the way, not contract-related, but you should come over right now,” he said. “I have some good news to share.”
“Is it about your pink eye scare?”
At around two in the morning, Mingyu texted you a picture of his puffy eye and claimed he was “allergic to pussy.” You sent him back a picture of you flipping him off.
It turned out to be allergies, but Mingyu was completely convinced he had pink eye—all thanks to WebMD. You had to listen to him freaking out for thirty minutes until he calmly informed you that his eye wasn’t puffy anymore.
“Not funny,” he warned. “Okay, kinda funny, but—okay, wait, point is, you should come over.”
You giggled. “Okay, I’ll come over. See you soon.”
You hung up the phone to get ready, feeling oddly excited about going over to Mingyu’s. Ryujin’s words from last night started to get into your head, making you wonder how you truly distinguished your relationship with your best friend. Because why did you feel the need to put on makeup to see him when you had never thought about that in your four years of being friends? And why were you taking extra long to pick out an outfit that was supposed to be casual?
You were deep in thought all the way to his doorstep, only letting it dissolve into the backwaters of your memory once the door opened to Mingyu’s excited face.
“They chose my submission,” was the first thing he said, his eyes shining.
You didn’t even have to ask for clarification. Right away, you knew exactly what he was talking about: the sunset photograph he submitted to the exhibition. It had been all he was raving about for weeks.
“Oh my god!” Your eyes were wide as you looked down at your hands helplessly. “I don’t have anything for us to celebrate with! Hold on, I can run to the store and buy, like, cake or—”
“Slow down.” Mingyu laughed. He grabbed you gently by your forearms and grinned. “We don’t need to celebrate anything. Just promise me you’ll come see my photography.”
“Of course.”
“My submission was for you, so you have to go. Promise?”
If it was even possible, your eyes grew even wider. “It was?”
“You’ll see.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, the gallery opening is in a few days. I’ll text you the address and time later.”
“Alright.” You held out your pinky to interlock with his own. “I promise.”
Mingyu wrapped his pinky around yours and grinned before tugging you by the same finger into his apartment. You followed him into his room, eyeing how strong and wide his back was. You were starting to fall back into dangerous imaginations again, wondering if he was going to make a move on you again now that you two only had a day left. Not that you would admit it to your best friend, but you were hoping something would happen.  
“Wonwoo found out Clawdia was getting lonely, so he’s out looking for a pet store that sells hermit crabs,” Mingyu explained. “He was on my ass about it, too, because I said crabs are probably fine being on their own. I mean, they’re called hermit crabs. How was I supposed to know they’re social creatures? Misleading name, if you ask me.”
Although you were (partly) engrossed in his story about Wonwoo’s pet crab, your eyes couldn’t help but linger on the red notebook on Mingyu’s desk.
He picked up on what was distracting you before you could even tear your gaze away, saying, “You’re so nosy.”
You made a face. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” His shoulders slumped as a retired sigh escaped his lips. You could see that you had been wearing him down over the notebook, so he bargained, “Alright, I’ll show you on one condition.” He plopped down on the edge of his bed. “I want something in return.”
You were most definitely taking his words the wrong way because your cheeks were heating up while Mingyu remained completely impassive.
“Something in return?”
“Yeah, I want an answer,” he started, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “When exactly did you start finding me cute? Or, in your words, a ‘walking wet dream,’ right?”
You barked out an unamused laugh. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m telling you.”
“Notebook,” Mingyu reminded.
Suddenly, you were elated about show-and-tell.
“You first,” he insisted. “I assure you, mine is regrettably more embarrassing.”
“The first time I found you cute…” you trailed off, trying to recall the exact moment you started appreciating your best friend’s attractiveness. “I’d say it was in freshman year when we went on the hike together during orientation week. You were all sweaty and wrapped your arm around me when we took a group picture at the top. I was going crazy about it to Ryujin, but then we became good friends, so I just pretended I never felt that way.”
“Freshman year?” he asked, wide-eyed. “You thought I was cute back then? I was a baby!”
“We were eighteen. Don’t make me sound like a creep.”
Mingyu laughed. “I just can’t believe you thought I was cute back then. I didn’t even think you thought about me like that.”
“It was our first week and I was cut loose from my parents.” You shrugged. “Plus, I think every girl in our orientation group wanted to get in your pants.”
“Not Ryujin.”
“No, she was still dating that guy from her high school, remember?”
You scrunched up your nose at the memory; back in the first few months of your freshman year, Ryujin always ditched you and Mingyu at random points during the night because her controlling boyfriend would call to make sure she wasn’t out and about. He was especially suspicious of Mingyu for being an attractive, well-liked man. You found the whole thing ridiculous because her boyfriend was keeping her from having fun and making friends.
To make matters worse, Mingyu ended up finding out Ryujin’s boyfriend was cheating on her after seeing one of his mutual friends post him on her private Snapchat story. It was a picture of them in bed together, and he completely denied it when confronted. You and Ryujin bonded the most during the week she planned to dump her boyfriend, and she ran straight to you once she did. After she cried her tears and used up all of your tissues, you two had your own beach bonfire to burn all of the gifts he got her.
You still remembered how you and Mingyu were back then. Since you two were still new friends, things were still a little shy and awkward. It wasn’t until your third year that you and Mingyu got closer, starting to hang out one-on-one instead of with Ryujin. Since she got busy with internships and her club activities, Ryujin grew a little distant from Mingyu, although they were still on good terms.
“Alright,” you said, impatience sticky like honey on your tongue, “your turn.”
“Ah, right.”
Mingyu walked over to his desk and picked up the notebook. You watched how he rubbed the back of his neck before turning back to you, and his head was turned so that you wouldn’t catch sight of his blush. (You noticed, though.) He flipped past several pages, eyes skimming through math formulas and physics problems before he landed on a page with several scribbles and arrows.
“It’s, like, this page and a few more,” he explained. “Knock yourself out.”
(You decided not to point out that it was more like ten pages.)
You grinned, thrilled, and laid out the notebook in front of you so that you could take everything in. Right away, Kim Mingyu’s Guide to Losing Your Virginity was scrawled at the top. You snorted, grabbing a pencil from his desk to write Unhelpful before Guide. He watched you nervously as your eyes flitted from note to note, your smile growing bigger at certain things he wrote.
A poorly-drawn arrow from how to make y/n feel comfortable to make sure she knows she can take everything at her own pace made you feel something warm and fluttering in your chest. You couldn’t believe Mingyu put this much effort into making you feel good—so much effort that he had entire pages in his notebook dedicated to brainstorming how to pleasure you. You had never been so focused in your life as you read through what he penciled in, and one idea in particular caught your attention.
suggest REALLY sexual things so she feels more comfortable sharing what she wants to do. this will probably make her judge (bully??) you but it’s for good reason
“You’re kidding,” you said, eyes still fixed on the notebook. “You made your list that long just so I wouldn’t feel awkward?”
Even though you asked the question, you were barely listening to him as your heart pounded in your chest and your blood rushed in your ears. You didn’t even have half the mind to see the shy expression painted over Mingyu’s face because you were so locked in on the notebook. His stammering and backtracking became background noise as you were hyper-focused on the words he wrote.
Somehow, this felt bigger than any emotion you had experienced before.
You were consumed, and it scared you. Sweltering in the overwhelming feeling of longing and possibly something more. And you realized that even if you ended up with someone else after all this, a part of you would always belong to Mingyu—the part of you that watched Barbie movies and liked coming home to a dinner for two.
Was it presumptuous for you to assume that Kim Mingyu could possibly harbor romantic feelings toward you? Was it safe to say that maybe you felt the same way?
“—but now that you’ve seen it,” you finally heard him say (after taking a few seconds to register his voice), “can we take out phone sex from the list? I was never really big on that.”
You looked up at him and laughed, a touch distracted because you were still caught in the tide of your own revelations. But you laughed like you were eighteen again, sitting in Mingyu’s dorm room and listening to him recount one of his hilarious stories about him getting lost on campus or being chased by seagulls.
And now you were twenty-one, sitting in Mingyu’s apartment and giggling like you were eighteen again.
Everything melted away, and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to kiss Mingyu.
You sat up on your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck. You didn’t think you had ever looked at Mingyu with such unadulterated desire in your eyes.
Craving. Longing. Yearning.
All of it was festering inside you.
“You’re such a dork, Gyu,” you murmured before pressing your lips to his.
This time, when you kissed him, you felt like all of the stars in the sky hung below the clouds just to witness this very moment. Mingyu was stunned for a few moments before he brought his hands up to pull your face closer to his. His nose brushed against your cheek, and you let a giggle slip between soft pecks and deeper kisses.
He pulled back for air, labored breaths falling from his lips before he found you again. This time, the kiss was deeper, rougher. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as Mingyu held you tighter, squeezing your sides so hard that you were arching up against his body.
You had always tried to push down hope before it was born, but the way Mingyu held you made you feel like you were on top of the world. You wanted to believe there was longing in the way his hands ran up and down your body, but you were too scared that you were mistaking his lust for something more.
Even as he pulled away once more to catch his breath, keeping his eyes flitting between your eyes and lips while his forehead was pressed against yours, you so desperately wanted to believe that there was something more behind his affectionate gaze. Something real.
It was when he pressed a chaste kiss to your nose that your hope bloomed in your chest like a valley of flowers kissed by spring.
His hand found its way behind your head, bringing you back to him for more. You felt like you could be there forever, just exchanging wordless affection and holding each other close. Mingyu moved over you so that he was suspended over your body, starting to lick into your mouth once your back hit the bedsheets. You accepted it almost immediately, parting your lips so that your tongue could dance with his.
Then, you were whining against his lips, begging for more. The sloppier and dirtier your kisses got, you were desperate for more skin-to-skin contact. You hooked your finger into one of his belt loops and tugged him closer, which resulted in Mingyu grinding his hips down against yours.
“You want more?” he asked, more raspy than coherent, really, and you could only nod in response as you pulled him closer. Mingyu peppered kisses from your jawline to the column of your neck, leaving behind love bites that you would need a lot of concealer and color corrector for later. “I don’t wanna rush—”
“No, Gyu,” you urged him, tugging him forward by the front of his shirt. “I need you.”
His voice came out in a breath. “Need me?”
“I want you. I want you to be my first because I… I trust you.”
He grinned brightly, canines on full display while his hair was a tousled mess above you. You were pretty sure his smile would be imprinted behind your eyelids forever.
His hand slipped under your shirt and ran up your back, maintaining eye contact with you and looking pleasantly surprised at the absence of your bra.
He pressed a tender kiss to the side of your neck before helping you pull off your shirt. Mingyu’s face was set in a grin before his smile slowly fell, replaced by a look of utter confusion. His brows were pulled together in perplexion as he stared at your tits.
Or, more specifically, the pasties over your nipples.
“Oh, my bad,” you said, unfazed, “I forgot I still had those on.”
“What is it?”
“Seriously? You’ve never seen a nipple cover?” you asked, making your best friend yelp when you peeled the adhesive off your skin. Mingyu shrunk back with a wince before you placed the silicone in his hand. “It doesn’t bite.”
He weighed it in his palm carefully before placing it on his bedside table. “Looks like a chicken breast.” Then, he looked back at your tits. Instead of bedroom eyes, there was genuine concern in his gaze. “It didn’t hurt when you ripped it off, right?”
You stifled a laugh. “No, it didn’t hurt. My boobs are all good.”
You took his hand and placed it over your left breast for good measure. He squeezed experimentally, but you were certain he was just still in shock over the nipple cover. This would normally be when you shrunk in on yourself, but Mingyu discovering the existence of pasties was far too entertaining for you to shy away.
“Good,” he said before he sighed, a little too dreamy to convince you that this was purely platonic. The lighthearted moment settled back into tension. Barely loud enough for you to hear, Mingyu murmured, “You’re so pretty like this.”
You wondered if your eyes were as big as they felt. “You think I’m pretty?”
“You don’t?” He frowned, as if he was offended that you weren’t seeing what he was. “I think you’re beautiful.”
He said it before, but you thought it was just a pet name because he was in the mood. Now that he was saying it so sincerely, looking at you like you were his entire world, you felt like you had turned into putty in his hold. Your nerves were practically on fire under your skin.
“You’re sure about this, right?” he asked again, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. When you nodded, he readjusted his position so that he was underneath you, moving your hips so that you were sitting on top of him. “Just let me know if you wanna stop.”
“It’s your first time, too,” you said softly, reaching out to trace his jawline. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, I’ve been waiting.” He smiled before pulling you down for another long kiss.
He kissed you for what seemed like ages, running his hands all over your body and teasing you with kisses to your neck and jawline when he pulled away. While he was getting a condom from his nightstand, you wondered how you could ever get enough of him if this was what sleeping with Kim Mingyu was like.
While you both were a mess of limbs, you managed to remove every article of clothing from each other until your bare bodies were pressed against each other. He tore the silver wrapping of the condom off to slide the lubricated rubber over his cock. Of course you had seen him naked before, but you still couldn’t get over how wonderfully sculpted his body was. He had to have been blessed by a Greek god.
Mingyu held you close to his chest, his eyes raking your body again and again until you felt weak in the knees. When he hovered over you, lining up his cock with your soaked cunt, you had to swallow down your anxiousness.
Questions billowed in your head, floating about until they turned into butterflies and flew straight to your gut. What if he didn’t fit? What if you couldn’t take all of him in? What if it hurt?
But Mingyu had always been so reliable, so comforting. You felt safe in his arms, even if you had been working yourself up over this very act for years. You wanted to be brave for him.
“Are you ready?” he asked once more—just to be safe because he was right there. This was your last chance to back out and he wanted to make sure you truly wanted this.
You nodded with firm self-assurance. “Yeah, I am.”
“Okay, bear with me here,” he replied, the tips of his ears going pink as he tried to laugh off his awkwardness. “I’ve never exactly done this before.”
You laughed. “Me neither. We can figure it out together.”
His lips tugged into a small smile. Mingyu leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he tried pushing his cock into you, guiding it with his entrance. It took him a few tries to work the head in without accidentally slipping out. The first stretch you felt wasn’t painful, but there was mild discomfort that you pushed down.
But then Mingyu couldn’t push into you any further. Your excitement fizzled and your emotions were swinging dangerously into a pit of worries.
Your best friend was a problem-solver, though. He hummed inquisitively before repositioning himself at your entrance.
“Wrap your legs around my hips,” he instructed. “I think that’ll be easier for you.”
You did as he said, tucking your legs around his hips and hooking your ankles together. Your arms hung loosely around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair and twirling them around your fingers. You bucked your hips up once to indicate you were ready, not realizing that it would make Mingyu grunt instead. You could feel your core pulsing from how badly you needed him.
After sucking in a shaky breath, Mingyu started pushing into you once more. Your arousal made it easier for him to slip inside, finally pushing the head of his cock past your folds. You cried out, tightening your grip on Mingyu as you adjusted to his size. You hadn’t even gotten his full cock in you yet.
Mingyu eased his way inside you for what seemed like ever. He didn’t care about how long he was taking or if he was getting impatient; he calmly took the time to work his cock into you. The long vein that ran down his length made you shudder as it brushed against your walls.
“That feel good?” he rasped, looking into your eyes for any signs of pain.
You nodded eagerly. “Y-yes! Please keep going.”
Your body was hot. Feverish. It felt like your pleasure was building up slowly—a dull ache at your core that grew as Mingyu pushed deeper inside you. He lowered his head to kiss your neck at the same time, nipping and sucking at your tender flesh while you moaned and writhed under him.
Finally—finally, finally, finally—Mingyu’s hips pressed flush against yours and you bit down on your lip to keep yourself from screaming out. The pain was sharp, almost dizzying, but after Mingyu held you and kissed you all over until you relaxed, you felt it subside slowly. He sighed happily, bucking into you slightly to feel how deep he was. You buried your face into his chest once you felt the room going a little fuzzy.
Aching, gnawing pain.
Deeper and deeper, but the pain built with each push into you. One certain thrust made you feel as though you hit a peak, but then you felt yourself coming down. You closed your eyes through it, taking deep breaths until the pain had mostly alleviated, a new feeling of pleasure rushing through your body.  
He didn’t say anything for a long while, just letting you take things at your own pace. It was only until you begged him to move that Mingyu complied and started moving his hips.
With an experimental, shallow thrust, you let out a whimper and let one of your legs unhook from the other, letting it lay on the bed instead. Mingyu held your other hip up and started thrusting slowly into you, making sure to keep his pace exact so that he didn’t slip out again. Your pleasure was building up fast, like a spell of vertigo that left your head spinning and your body flushed.
“F-feels so good, Gyu,” you cried out, and then you couldn’t say anything at all once his tongue pried its way into your mouth. His lips slotted against yours perfectly, like both of your lips had been specifically molded to fit each other’s.
He thrusted deeper. Some of his thrusts hit that golden spot inside you that made your world turn blinding white. You were dangerously close to an orgasm with how good he was making you feel.
Mingyu sped up his thrusts, holding your hips and dragging his lips across your skin to leave love bites along your collarbone and shoulders. With the way he shifted your hips to pound in at a better angle had your legs shaking and your eyes rolling back into your head. You were far too sensitive to last long, especially since this was your first time experiencing such pleasure.
Realizing that your muscles had started involuntarily twitching, Mingyu thrusted into you deeper and caged you in his grip. You were teetering on the precipice of a release, holding onto his strong arms for leverage—something to ground yourself while you about to dive into your own ecstasy.
The brute strength in his thrusts led you to falling over the edge, jolts of pleasure coursing through you as you chanted Mingyu’s name over and over again like a prayer. The force of your orgasm nearly knocked the wind out of you, making the world before you go blurry as Mingyu fucked you through your high.
You nearly didn’t register him moaning out, too, his lips framing your name as he came. It felt as if you had short-circuited, laying underneath him helplessly as you rode out your orgasm. The current tugged and swept you away, sending aftershocks of pleasure to your sore cunt.
You blinked twice to reorient yourself, coherence bleeding back into you. It was when Mingyu kissed your forehead that it finally clicked for you.
You finally lost your virginity.
“Thank you,” he whispered against your temple. “That was incredible.”
You nodded, dazed, about to thank him back before you noticed that something was running down your hip. You touched the liquid curiously, wondering if you had just been that overstimulated, but what you found on your fingertips was blood.
You shrieked.
“What happened?” he asked, eyes wide before he saw your hand. He chuckled lightly. “Oh, I see. This is normal after your first time; it’s no big deal.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”
Mingyu didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, though; he was smiling delightedly while you were a panicked mess. Blood was gushing out of the very place Mingyu’s cock was buried, and you were humiliated because of your new position as Human Ketchup Bottle.
“Wow,” he cooed sarcastically, rubbing your hips gently, “it’s like you’re my personal little volcano.”
“Oh my god. Please shut the fuck up, Gyu.”
After helping clean you up and a few more sessions of you two gushing over how good your first time felt, you and Mingyu laid in bed together, side-by-side. He had gone on several tangents about how it was nice that you two didn’t feel awkward around each other and that he was almost worried because he heard a lot of horror stories about people’s first time.
Apparently, Vernon’s first time was quite unmemorable because it was a quickie in a hot tub. He had never considered the friction caused by the water being uncomfortable, so it wasn’t one for the books.
To your surprise, when Mingyu headed to the kitchen to get you some water, you felt strangely hollow. As your eyes grew unfocused, the ache from the penetration was more clear, and you started to feel a little empty.
No one ever talked about what happened after sex. No one ever talked about how, shortly following the aftermath of your first time when you were coming down from the dazzling glow of your orgasm, the only thing you could feel was overwhelming vulnerability.
It was like you had been flying up in the clouds, got too close to the sun, and dropped right into a void of sadness. You were bordering on a feeling of emptiness as you stared up at Mingyu’s popcorn ceiling.
Then, the bed dipped next to you. Mingyu came back with a glass of water for you and one of his sweaters—the black Ralph Lauren one his mom got him for his high school graduation. Yeah, he was definitely starting to outgrow it, but he kept it hung up in his closet, anyway. Something about it being sentimental to him.
“You good?” he asked in a gentle voice, setting the glass of water on the nightstand. He slid onto the mattress next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. “You look a little out of it.”
“I’m better now,” was all you said, smiling contently after placing your arm on top of his.
“Did something happen? Did I do something?”
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Mingyu how you were feeling; you just didn’t know how to. There was nothing he had done to upset you at all, and the night had been incredible. You were still over-the-moon from losing your virginity to your best friend. That was why the wave of sadness that hit you afterward was strange and foreign.
“No, no, it’s just…” You sighed. “I just felt really sad for a few seconds. Like, don’t get me wrong, that was the best feeling ever, but after you went to go get water and stuff, I just got really sad.”
Something flashed across Mingyu’s face. It was the look he always wore when he was correcting someone or explaining some nerdy bit of information he knew. You were anticipating him to go on some tangent about heightened emotions peaking during sex would lead to a crash—something along those lines.
But then, he simmered. His expression was immediately replaced with understanding as he squeezed you tighter. Mingyu must have known that you just wanted to be comforted, not talked to, so he just tucked his head into the crook of your neck.
You felt warmer. Safer.
“Do you feel better now?” he asked.
You sucked in a breath. “Much better.”
Somewhere between your mumbles and whispers of conversation, you and Mingyu ended up drifting asleep in each other’s arms.
It was around twilight when you woke up, dusky purple streaming through the windows and across Mingyu’s peaceful face as he was deep in slumber. You turned your gaze back up, staring at the chipped paint and grooves in the popcorn ceiling, feeling as if you were drowning in your own emotions.
The feeling settled in your chest. It was always there, like a dull ache, but now it was loud. Pounding.
You were in love with Kim Mingyu.
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You ran into Ryujin later—much later. It was well after you went back to your apartment and had a meltdown over your newly-recognized feelings for your best friend.
After you talked yourself through your feelings for nearly an hour, you realized that you couldn’t handle this problem head-on. You needed the assistance of your favorite cookies and cream ice cream from Ben and Jerry’s, so you walked to the nearby grocery store in sweatpants and a jacket.
While you were trying to balance three tubs of ice cream in your arms, Ryujin happened to wander into the freezer section, looking mildly concerned at the sight of you. She was pushing a cart full of groceries with her glasses sitting low on her nose.
“Need any help there?” she asked, moving aside her bag of cilantro to make space for your ice cream.
“You were right,” you admitted, and you nearly sounded hysterical with how breathless and frazzled you were. “I’m in love with him.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
“That explains the ice cream.”
“Totally overshot the much simpler feeling of just liking someone, or being attracted to someone,” you rambled, allowing her to take the tubs of ice cream from your hands. “It couldn’t even just be a silly little crush, either. I’m just… in love with him.”
“So, what’re you gonna do now?”
You paused. “Would it be reasonable for me to think about it after I see him again?”
“Reasonable? Absolutely not. Stupid? Probably.”
“Well, that’s what college is for, anyway.”
“I support you,” she started, “even if I think you’re a dumb bitch.”
“Thanks, Ryujin, I think.”
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The golden rule about being in your twenties was that it was the prime time to be young, dumb, and make stupid decisions.
The stupid decision you settled on for today was inviting Mingyu over when you really should have been taking some time to figure out your feelings for him. You knew very well that this would fuck with your emotions, but you had to give in to your carnal desires. Now that Mingyu had relinquished you of your virgin title, you couldn’t get enough.
You had always wondered what it would be like when you finally lost your virginity. Part of you thought it would be some sort of final form that you would achieve, but it wasn’t exactly all that different. Society overvalued deflowerment, you figured, but there was something that rang true.
Your face glowed a little brighter. Whether that was because of your recent confidence boost or your post-sex elation, you weren’t sure.
But now, you were in a predicament: you wanted more. Naturally, that led you to calling Mingyu and subtly asking if he wanted to come over.
That was how you ended up with your chest pressed against the wall while Mingyu’s body was caging yours. His strong chest was against your sweat-beaded back, and you swore you could feel every muscle of his keeping you from budging. It took him a few valiant efforts to fit his cock inside of you, and you had to reposition yourself several times for him to find a good angle. Once he had slid into you with ease, though, he started thrusting into you with vigor, soft grunts falling from his perfect lips.
(You realized Mingyu wasn’t able to get enough of you, too. He walked in, exchanged a greeting and gave you an update on Wonwoo’s crabs before his rough hands were turning you around and holding you against the wall. While his lips worked on your neck, you managed to sputter out some nonsense about being happy for Wonwoo’s new crab, Clawmander.)
“You’re wet,” he observed, his tone frank and even.
“Excellent observation, Sherlock Holmes.” You managed to gasp out the words before Mingyu’s cock hit that perfect spot inside you that made your vision curl with darkness at the ends.
“Jesus,” he hissed, lips brushing against your left ear. You let out a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a moan while he used his free hand to rub your clit in torturous circles. “I didn’t think you’d get this worked up over me.”
You didn’t answer him. This wasn’t the right time or place for him to hear the true reason. Plus, you could hardly string any words together when he was making you feel so good.
“Don’t cum just yet,” he muttered, and you whined when his cock slid out of you. When you turned around to ask him what his deal was, Mingyu lifted you up effortlessly and carried you to your couch. He had you straddling him while his hands rested on your thighs. “I want you to ride me, beautiful.”
Intimidation settled in. Mingyu could see it in your eyes—the way they refocused and your gaze flitted around hesitantly.
And, because Mingyu was just a tenderhearted, loveable ray of sunshine, he added gently, “If you want to, of course.”
Your eyes went lust-lidded as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You just wanted to make him proud.
“Sit back,” you told him, and you lifted your hips so that you could sink down on his throbbing cock.
Mingyu sucked in a sharp breath, holding your hip with one hand and helping adjust his length with the other. You winced, still not used to the penetration, but the initial pain was less sharp than it was the first couple times. Once you felt the mild discomfort replaced with the hot pleasure you were chasing just minutes before, Mingyu helped you start moving your hips up and down on him. He let go of your hips to throw his head back and run his hands down his face, agonized that he couldn’t fuck into you himself.
You placed one hand on his chest and let your body hover over his as you fucked yourself on his cock. Then, Mingyu decided to pull you flush to his body and buck his hips up on his own. You cried out from feeling him deeper inside you, but then you were moaning into the curve of his neck.
“You feel so good around me,” he whispered into your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
You pulled back, still bouncing on his dick with spurts of clarity returning to you. You were still dazed from how good he felt inside you, but Mingyu’s words were trying to reel you back into proper coherence.
“H-how long?” you stuttered out.
Mingyu smirked up at you, but before the fluttery feeling returned to your chest, you were paralyzed with fear when you heard a loud knock followed by the door handle turning. Your oncoming orgasm came to a halt and dissipated immediately after.
You and Mingyu repelled like magnets; you winced as he practically manhandled you off his lap and scrambled away, so you pushed him off the couch as payback. You only had time to pull your blanket up to cover your bare chest before Soonyoung appeared in the doorway. Mingyu, butt naked, was perfectly facing the front door, and he could only cover his crotch with both hands in time.
Cue Soonyoung screaming, then Mingyu, then you.
For a few seconds, it was a perfect choir of discordant screeching.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” you yelled as Mingyu tried to duck out of the way. He eventually realized there was no immediate escape and just turned around, making Soonyoung sigh heavily and cover his eyes with his sleeve when he saw Mingyu’s ass on full display.
“Well, my… my Connect Fours—”
“You could’ve knocked!”
“You told me I could come over and pick them up!”
“You still could’ve knocked!”
“Don’t blame me; I am the victim here! Normally, you’re in here watching a rerun of Jersey Shore, so I wasn’t exactly thinking, ‘Oh, what if Y/N’s actually getting dicked down by Mingyu right now?’ No! Because no one tells me what’s going on anymore!” Soonyoung argued. “I just came here to get my Connect Fours, not for front row seats to the Magic Mingyu show!”
“I’m sorry.” You sent Mingyu an uneasy look, and then you grew more concerned as you watched him manage to awkwardly wrap most of his body with the white drapes at your windows. You turned back to Soonyoung. “You didn’t see too much, did you?”
“I just saw Mingyu’s asscheeks on full display!”
Mingyu pouted, taking great offense to Soonyoung’s panic. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Okay, I’d rather see your asscheeks, like, on purpose,” he replied, exasperated, “not like this! My eyes feel violated.”
“Soonyoung,” you whispered harshly, and, if looks could kill, you were sure your friend would be six feet under. You waved your hand, motioning for him to leave as the situation was becoming increasingly awkward. “I’ve only got ten of the boxes so far. I’ll text you when the rest come.”
“Right, right,” he mumbled, turning to grab the large package at your entryway. “I’ll just take this and go, then. Let me know when the rest come.”
You sighed. “Yeah, of course.”
“By the way, how big is Mingyu’s dick? He won’t tell us how—”
Mingyu, who looked horrified at this point, raised his voice so high that you nearly burst out laughing from how squeaky it sounded. “Can you leave already?!”
“Before I go,” he said, “I’ll see you guys at Kap Sig for the Beerlympics tomorrow, right?” After he was met by two piercing glares, your friend realized that this was probably not the time nor place for this conversation. “Sorry! Just text me if you decide to show up!”
Soonyoung closed the door behind him loudly to make it known that he had left, and you and Mingyu relaxed once he was finally gone.
“I’m gonna lock your door,” Mingyu started, all huffy and flushed with embarrassment, “and then we can get back to what we were doing.” While he was making sure your lock was secure and walked back, he kept lecturing, “You know, you should really keep your door locked all the time. You never know what’s going to happen.”
You heard him loud and clear, but your mind was still buzzing with questions from what he said before you two were walked in on. All you wanted to know was how long he had been waiting to sleep with you, and you were so curious that you weren’t even feeling humiliated anymore over Soonyoung nearly seeing you naked.
“How long have you been waiting?” you asked. When Mingyu only gave you a confused look, you clarified, “You said it earlier while I was on top of you.”
“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck before his lips stretched into a smile. “How about this: I’ll tell you when you come to see my work in the gallery.”
You folded your arms across your chest. “Fine, but I was gonna show up either way.”
“See, that’s what I like about you.” You were too busy blushing to notice that Mingyu had already made his way between your legs and was hovering over you. He peeled the blanket off from your body and put it over the head of your couch. Tapping your knee, he said, “Now, open up, beautiful. Since you were doing so good for me, I’ll make it up to you.”
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It was the next day around noon, and the remaining ten boxes of Connect Fours arrived at your door in another giant package. You texted Soonyoung that he could come pick them up (and wait for you to open the door).
You still hadn’t cleared things up from yesterday when he walked in on you and Mingyu, so you weren’t sure how to look him in the eye without feeling absolute shame. Not only that, but the guilt from your lie had been swirling in your chest constantly now that you were hit with the reality that Soonyoung had already perceived your strange friends with benefits relationship with Mingyu.
After you spent practically the entire day with Mingyu yesterday, even driving him to 7-Eleven for munchies at 3 a.m., you ended up getting the green light from him to tell Soonyoung everything. He knew that the guilt was weighing on your chest, and you both concurred that you would feel much better after coming clean.
After all, Soonyoung was one of your best friends, and you didn’t want him to keep deceiving him, no matter how big or insignificant your lie was to him.
When Soonyoung arrived at your door, making sure to knock three times, he greeted you with his usual cheery smile.
“Hey,” he said with an awkward edge to his voice. “Proud of me? I knocked this time.”
You went over this conversation about a million times in your head, thinking of different possible scenarios and outcomes that could happen. For each one, though, there was no eloquent way to bring up your lie without you sounding like you were overcompensating by rambling.
Just rip the bandage off, you told yourself.
It was hard to find the words, though, and your brain couldn’t figure out how to smoothly deliver the news.
Soonyoung looked like he didn’t know what to do, considering you had been staring blankly at him for several seconds without saying anything. “Is this a bad time?” he asked after a pause.
You shook your head quickly. “No, I have something I need to tell you.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
You gestured for him to come inside, and Soonyoung took off his shoes before walking into your apartment. You felt yourself flush when he intentionally avoided sitting on your couch and just stood between your hallway and living room.
Soonyoung liked to joke around most of the time, but even he could tell that you were trying to bring up something serious. His arms were folded across his chest, the bewilderment in his eyes coalescing into sympathy. You intended for this to be honest, clear communication, but your breath was getting short and your eyes were darting to your feet before you could even get the words out.
This was deeper than your lie. You could admit that you were a liar, but something inside you withered at the very thought of admitting that there was something going on between you and Mingyu. Something that crossed the line of platonic friendship but kept its distance from romance.
So, before anything else, you blurted out, “I lied about being a virgin. Mingyu and I didn’t have sex.”
Your voice was thick with emotion. For a moment, your friend just stared at you, unblinking.
“Huh?” He sounded utterly confused as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to make things awkward and bring it up, but didn’t I walk in on you and Mingyu yesterday?”
“No, I’m talking about the time I told you I had sex with Mingyu.”
“In the library?”
“Yes.”
“So you guys didn’t have sex?”
“Well, technically we did, but—”
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Soonyoung said, pausing before he continued, “so, you’re a virgin?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I was a virgin, but now I’m not. The timeline got fucked.”
“Wait, so, you were a virgin when you told me you weren’t a virgin,” he recounted, to which you nodded in response, and you could tell a few of the pieces in his head fit together when he finished, “and then you lost your virginity.” You nodded again to affirm his statement and your friend let a low-pitched whistle slip. “Wow, that is some crazy lore.”
Fiddling with your fingers, you asked, “Are you mad that I lied to you guys?”
“Mad? No way,” he said. “Like, sure, I don’t really understand why you lied. I guess you had your own reasons. It’s not like it’s a bad thing to be a virgin. There’s no way I’d be mad over something like that, though.”
“I was worried because I thought you hated liars,” you explained, and although you didn’t mention his ex-girlfriend, it seemed as though Soonyoung knew exactly what you were talking about.
“I care about lies that hurt, and, hey, you told me eventually,” he said. “I’m not gonna hold it against you for not telling me about something you weren’t ready to share.”
He worried at his lower lip before adding, “You didn’t lose it to Mingyu because of what I said, right?”
You felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, and your breathing steadied. You didn’t even realize how fast your heart was beating until you could feel every muscle in your body relax.
“No, of course not.” You finally cracked a smile. “To be honest, when you guys grilled us about it in the library, it did set things in motion. I don’t regret any of it, though—except lying to you guys about it. I’ve been wanting it to happen for a while now.”
“Good. You should probably tell the others when you’re ready, too.” He gave you a warm smile before amusement seeped back into his eyes. He turned to pick up the large package of Connect Fours and said, “Congrats to you and Mingyu, by the way. I always knew you two would get together.”
You nearly got whiplash from how fast you turned your neck. “Soonyoung—what?”
“Yeah, I mean, he’s been crazy for you ever since freshman year. I figured he would eventually grow a pair and ask you out,” he elaborated. Once Soonyoung hoisted the box up and turned around to look at you, he froze when he saw the dumbfounded look on your face. “Oh, shit. You’re not dating him, are you?”
“No, Soonyoung. No, I’m not.”
“Oh… my bad.”
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Around twenty minutes after Soonyoung’s slip-up, you decided you would go with him to Kappa Sigma’s “Beerlympics,” which you hadn’t exactly been banking on showing up to. When you were informed about it yesterday, you had to research online to make sure that no, Soonyoung wasn’t speaking some alien language.
You never really understood half the things Soonyoung and Jungwoo talked about in relation to their fraternity. It usually went in one ear and out the other. It was always something about chapter meetings, pledges, and the sort of nonsense that made you wonder if you two were even living in the same world.
Before you decided to go, Soonyoung had to guide you to the couch to sit down and process your thoughts, which you figured was a great feat for him considering he was still traumatized from walking in on you and Mingyu.
Even after you stared blankly at the wall, though, you still couldn’t fathom the thought of Kim Mingyu liking you all these years. And, you didn’t outwardly admit it to Soonyoung, but the thought of your best friend liking you back made you inexplicably happy.
After you quickly changed into more appropriate clothing, Soonyoung and you walked over to frat row, passing by several large fraternity houses before arriving at the male-infested Beerlympics event. Your friend was still carrying his box of Connect Fours, which kept rattling as you two walked.
Yesterday, you were considering not going, mostly because you committed to going to Mingyu’s exhibition today, too. He had texted you the details, informing you that it would be early in the evening, so you weren’t going to spend longer than a few hours at Kappa Sigma.
Plus, now that Soonyoung had accidentally revealed the feelings Mingyu was harboring for you, confessing to him was weighing heavy on your mind. You desperately needed to tell your friends about your feelings before you ended up self-combusting.
In a matter of minutes, you were sitting between Vernon and Jungwoo on the couch, watching Minghao and Soonyoung shotgun a Coors Light. The box of Connect Fours was currently being used as a drink stand.
“You just came back from Vegas,” you told them, “and you’re already hosting a Beerlympics?”
“What did you expect us to do? We only drank hard alcohol in Vegas,” Jungwoo explained. “It’s only right that we come back and drink beer.”
You rolled your eyes, incredulous. “You guys can’t be serious.”
“By the way,” Vernon started, “is Mingyu coming? I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“You went to the gym with him yesterday,” Minghao pointed out.
“And that was in the past.”
Soonyoung cleared his throat once he was done with his beer. “Speaking of Mingyu… Y/N has something to tell you guys.”
“Right.” You cleared your throat before announcing, “I’ve gathered you all here today because someone said something he wasn’t supposed to.”
“And that someone was me,” Soonyoung mumbled, dejected.
“Wait,” Jungwoo interrupted, “we need context.”
Although you talked to Minghao before about the pact between you and Mingyu, you still hadn’t explained the whole ordeal to Vernon, Jungwoo, and Soonyoung. As you rambled on about how Mingyu proposed the idea and you two started becoming friends with benefits, Soonyoung’s face fell more and more as he realized he had royally fucked up. Vernon, on the other hand, despite having been kept in the dark this entire time, kept a placid expression on his face while the other three boys lost their shit.
You went on to explain the whiteboard, the notebook, how scared you were about ruining your friendship with Mingyu, and how Soonyoung walked in on you two and accidentally revealed that Mingyu had been crushing on you for a while.
“There’s no way you actually wrote all that down on a whiteboard,” Soonyoung said with an incredulous laugh. When Minghao pointed out that your whiteboard (that you still hadn’t returned to the community room) was literally in the living room, your friend cried, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice that!”
“Yeah, it was front and center when you walked in on Mingyu and I,” you said.
“To be fair, Mingyu’s ass was very distracting.”
You folded your arms across your chest, staring the four boys down. “Okay, well, that’s my side of what happened. It’s your turn to spill what you know.”
They all looked at each other warily before Vernon decided to break it down for you. He explained how Mingyu had been crushing on you ever since you two were in the same orientation group, and your breath caught in your throat because that was exactly when you also found him cute. Apparently, since you had become good friends with Soonyoung and Minghao shortly after (and later, their respective roommates: Jungwoo and Vernon), Mingyu didn’t try to read into your closeness too much.
All of the pieces were connecting in your head—all of the little moments and things he said that you brushed off as a coincidence. Every realization was like a firefly in your head, flickering and blinking under dim light until it shone bright and clear in total darkness.
Every time he called you beautiful. Every time he kissed you. Every time he looked at you like you were all he wanted.
Mingyu saying he wanted his first time to be with someone special wasn’t just a previous notion of his that he discarded once you two made the pact. You were the someone special he wanted to be with.
And god, if only he knew how badly you wanted to be with him right now.
“Alright, Y/N, do not tell Mingyu about any of this,” Soonyoung warned. “I’ve survived Jungwoo’s stupid ‘ecstasy water’—fuck you for that health violation of a drink, by the way—and I’m not letting Kim Mingyu be the reason why I end up six feet under.”
“I’m gonna have to tell him I found out from you, Soonyoung,” you argued. “There would literally be no other way for me to find out if it wasn’t from one of you guys.”
Vernon was quiet before he suggested, “What if we throw Jungwoo under the bus?”
“Yo, that’s hella smart,” Soonyoung praised before giving Vernon a high-five.
“I would prefer not to be thrown under the bus, thank you,” Jungwoo deadpanned.
“We are not throwing Jungwoo under the bus,” you agreed. “Besides, there’s been something that I’ve been thinking about for a while, too.” You paused to pour a shot for yourself, downing the contents of your red solo cup in one go. Wringing your hands together, you confessed, “I think I like Mingyu.”
“Oh, wow.” Jungwoo nearly choked over his words and held out his cup to you. “Pour me a shot, too. I’m gonna need it.”
Minghao decided to take over, asking, “As a person?”
“As a… man.”
“Well, men are people—sometimes.”
You groaned, unlacing your fingers to drop your face into your hands. You couldn’t believe you were saying this at the Kappa Sigma house, of all places.
“I—well, yeah, obviously. I just… okay, the point is, I sort of realized I really like him, and I was scared because I don’t know how this is gonna affect the group dynamic.” You felt your face growing hot as you talked about it, but you continued, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but what you guys just told me changes things, I think. I feel like I really need to tell him how I feel, if that’s okay with you guys.”
(You took another shot.)
You had never said the words out loud—not even to yourself. Your emotions felt more real now that they were out in the open for your friends to hear. Amidst all the booming music and drunken shouts in the house, your friends were silent.
“Why’re you asking us for permission?” Jungwoo finally spoke up. “We aren’t gonna be dicks and say you shouldn’t ask him out just so we can keep our friend group as it is. Just ask him out.”
(Another shot.)
“What he said,” Vernon agreed. “If Mingyu’s crush on you didn’t affect our friendship for four years and your crush on him didn’t make things weird, then I don’t see why you have to hide how you feel.”
(You gulped down your fourth shot.)
By the time Minghao started harping on about how you should be following your heart, you were starting to feel the alcohol settle. It ran through your veins, thick like molasses, until you felt sluggish. Then, spurred by your determination to confess your feelings, you rose up to your feet.
“I’m gonna do it,” you breathed out.
“When?” Soonyoung asked.
“Now.” You stopped to gather your belongings—your phone from the Connect Four box and your bag from the couch. “I’m gonna go see him.”
“Let’s call you an Uber,” Jungwoo said, and when he realized he was probably the most sober out of his friends, he dragged himself off the couch. Apparently, he was drinking in moderation after nearly getting alcohol poisoning in Vegas and dealing with a nasty hangover. “Okay, I’ll call you an Uber.”
Jungwoo walked you outside, waiting with you on the sidewalk until your Uber arrived. He recounted some of the highlights of his weekend in Vegas to you, and you listened intently even though you could feel your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You weren’t sure if it was because you were intoxicated or your nerves over potentially confessing your feelings to Mingyu.
When your Uber pulled into the driveway—a white SUV that was large enough for you to assume that Jungwoo accidentally booked an Uber XL.
As you were getting into the passenger’s seat, Jungwoo held the door open long enough to tell you, “Hey, I’ll let you in on a little secret: Mingyu never really cared for watching movies until he met you.”
While your Uber driver took you to your destination in silence, you were certain your heart was glowing brighter than any sunset out there.
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The gallery was empty when you arrived—eerily quiet. A long, white table sat at the foyer where the front desk was. Plates of what you suspected had cookies on them were left littered with crumbs. The gallery assistant seated at the front desk must have been a student working part-time because her nose was buried in a textbook, hardly noticing you walking inside the building.
Your buzz was wearing off by now and your stomach had dropped in a deep pit when you realized that you were late. You swore you had timed it right. Mingyu told you to be there at 5 p.m., and yes, you were twenty minutes late, but you didn’t expect the whole venue to be cleared out.
Maybe everyone else was just late. That had to be it, right?
When you tried to look up Mingyu’s location on Find My Friends, he was miles away and looked as if he was on a trail.
You decided to call him, wondering why he hadn’t texted you yet. You were too disoriented in the car to give him a heads up, but he would normally text you, anyway.
After three rings, he picked up. “Hello?”
“Mingyu!” you cried in a hushed voice. “Am I late? Did you leave already? I can’t see anyone here.”
“Where?” he asked. “Uh, if you’re talking about Beerlympics, I didn’t go because I had a project due tonight.”
“No, the gallery. You said it started at five, right?”
Mingyu was silent for what seemed like forever before he stifled a laugh. “You mean the gallery opening tomorrow night?”
You had never sobered up so quickly.
While Mingyu was laughing at you on the other end of the line, you were pulling up your text messages to confirm that he had given you the wrong details. Instead, you were met with the horrifying realization that you just read the invite wrong.
“I mean, you can still see my work while you’re there,” he continued. “I think they’ve already switched out their old art.”
You groaned. “I’m so stupid.”
You roamed around the gallery as Mingyu told you about his day, looking at all of the art pieces that were submitted. After you took some pictures of various paintings and sculptures that were on display, your eyes fell upon a sunset photograph hung up on the wall.
The very photograph you came here for.
You had seen gorgeous sunsets before, but you had never seen pictures that did them any justice. What Mingyu had captured, though, was absolutely breathtaking.
Over the foliage, the sky was a wonderful blend of oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples. The great ball of light dipped below the horizon, peeking out just enough to see its wonderful color. The rays of sunlight reached out past the frame, illuminating the treetops and the current of water that ran to the side.
To the right, you saw Mingyu’s placard fixed to the wall, hanging proud next to its photograph.
Kim Mingyu You’re My Sunset 2023 The sun’s last kiss to the sky. If there’s a world where I can watch sunsets forever, I hope she’s there with me.
“—so I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get a C on the quiz because he made us write out our code on paper. My handwriting is dogshit, so I hope he has a fun time reading mine.” He trailed off when he realized you went silent on the other end. “Y/N?”
“Where are you?” you asked, a touch distracted as your eyes drank in the words etched onto the placard.
“Huh? I’m on that hiking trail near the freshman dorms,” he said. “I was gonna go watch the sunset, if you wanted to come see it with me.”
And because you were so helplessly in love with him, it was easier than breathing to say, “I’d love to watch the sunset with you.”
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It took you one more Uber and forty minutes to find Mingyu where he was waiting for you. You told him not to walk all the way back down to meet you, so you made your journey to the top on your own. You were definitely not dressed for a hike, but sunset was coming soon and you didn’t have time to stop at your apartment to change.
You waved once you saw him, biting back your smile because you didn’t want to look overly-excited to see him. He had probably been outside for a while, judging by the sheen of sweat that made his biceps glisten under the setting sun.
“You made it just in time,” he said. “Sunset’s in a few.”
Your chest heaved as you recovered from your hike up. It had been ages since you worked out properly, so part of you was glad that you didn’t let Mingyu go back down and fetch you. You surely would have had to make him stop several times for you to take a breather.
He was sitting on a large, flat rock—so smooth that it was probably the perfect spot on the entire mountain to watch a sunset. Mingyu scooted over so that you had room and you sat down right next to him, knees knocking and shoulders brushing against his.
You had never seen anything as formidably beautiful as the view before you. The sun had started to dip below the horizon, glowing a spectacular orange. Muted colors of blue and gray vanished like a skip, blurring into colors more intense, more breathtaking. Oranges and yellows blend into the canvas of the sky, soon blending with pink and red hues that made the clouds look like the seventh heaven.
It felt like the sun was setting, calling the stars out just for you two. It cast its rays onto the lake below, leaving the surface glittering with millions of golden sparkles.
This was the sight that reminded Mingyu of you.
For a while, you two just watched the sky wordlessly until you started, “I saw your—”
“What if we watched the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe for our next marathon?” he asked at the same time, but his words were stronger—more purposeful—so you answered him instead.
“We still haven’t finished our Barbie marathon,” you said. “We’re still on Barbie and the Diamond Castle.”
“But… when we finish.”
You hummed. “How long does it take to finish all of the Marvel movies?”
You tried to mentally note down all of the titles you knew with the limited knowledge you had of the Marvel cinematography. You were pretty sure you watched a good amount of them—the big ones that broke records in theaters—but you never tried watching them in order.
“Seventy hours and forty-six minutes. I checked.”
“We’d be marathoning forever.”
He smiled. “It wouldn't be the end of the world if we marathoned forever.”
You laughed, loud and clear. It was almost ridiculous to think of you and Mingyu in your fifties, sitting on a couch and watching yet another movie marathon in the measly hours of free time you had between work and other responsibilities.
And then it hit you. Your heart jumped to your throat.
You and Mingyu, doing the same things you did now in your fifties. You and Mingyu, sitting on a couch and watching another marathon together. You and Mingyu, swamped with work and responsibilities but still spending time with each other amidst all that.
You and Mingyu.
Your lungs were trees and there was a forest fire. It tore its way through each leaf, each branch, and it felt like that fire would burn forever. Burn until the sky had no sun and the world was in ruins. You couldn’t think straight as your heart raced and your breath got caught in your throat.
“Forever?” you asked in a small voice.
Mingyu’s eyes softened, more sincere and longing in them. At this point, he had gone pink beneath his golden skin. He moved his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, but all you could focus on was how the last rays of the evening shone on your best friend’s face. He was painted with sunset.
“Yeah, forever,” he confirmed. “I guess this is my way of confessing, so… Y/N, my forever marathoner, my sunset, will you go out with me?”
You were choked up at what felt like the worst possible time to be malfunctioning. “Sunset—”
“You saw it, right? The dedication next to my sunset picture?” he asked. “You finally realized that I’ve been in love with you for the past four years?”
He said the words so casually, as if he was telling you the color of the sky. But you could feel the weight settle in—the years of longing and pining.
This time, instead of just craning your neck, you turned your whole body to face him. The way he looked at you sent butterflies to your stomach, but your eyebrows pulled into a frown. You were sure that you couldn’t have possibly let it slip to him that Soonyoung told you everything.
“How did you… how did you know?”
He grinned, leaning back a little on his hands. “Before you got here, Soonyoung drunk FaceTimed me and started apologizing for exposing my four-year crush on you. He also apologized for assuming that I had the balls to ask you out.”
You scoffed a little, recalling how Soonyoung was practically begging you not to tell Mingyu yourself. It only made sense that he would be the one to fess up after all that alcohol got into his system. You made a mental note to call him out on this very moment the next time you saw him.
“Things get messy when someone likes someone else in the friend group, you know?” he continued, looking over the cliffside for a moment before turning back to you. “But, with you, I don’t think I mind things getting a little messy.”
“Do you remember when Jungwoo told you I found you cute, and I told him I really said something else?” he went on, turning his head away this time. He sounded more shy when he admitted, “Beautiful. I called you beautiful.”
“I just…” You faltered, trying to work up the courage to look him in the eye. When you did, the melted amber swirling in his eyes nearly made you stammer. “I didn’t expect any of this.”
Mingyu must have mistook your nerves for hesitation because he immediately said, “It’s all good, Y/N. I just wanted to come clean to you. You don’t have to answer—”
“No, Mingyu,” you cut him off, breathing out the words with an edge of desperation, “I didn’t expect this because I came here to ask you out.”
It was his turn to be shell-shocked. Mingyu’s pink lips parted in surprise, mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something, but he clearly hadn’t even thought of this outcome. You watched his Adam’s apple bob nervously.
He looked at your lips, then your eyes, then your lips again. He lifted his hand to touch your cheek, fingers spreading so that he could cradle your jaw. He looked transfixed, looking at you like you were far more captivating than the sunset that was playing out for you two. His eyes fluttered shut once he closed the distance and his lips met yours.
If you were his sunset, Mingyu was your sunrise. Every time he kissed or touched you, you felt warmth spread through your whole body, making you beam brighter than any star in the galaxy.
He pulled back, but he was still so close that his nose was touching yours, both of your ragged, uneven breaths mixing in the tight space between you two. He held the back of your head and pressed your foreheads together, a gesture of his that always made you feel like you were soaring.
Your voice failed you as Mingyu’s calloused hands bunched up the fabric of your shirt to glide down your back, tracing the bumps down your spine and gripping tighter once he reached your hips. It was like he was charting a map of your body, taking note of every little curve and dip he came across.
“W-we’re outside,” you stuttered out.
“No one’s gonna catch us. I wanna show you how I feel every time I look at you,” he murmured in a low voice that only you could hear. “Lay down for me, Y/N. I want you to watch the last of the sunset while I show you how much I love you.”
You didn’t reply, mostly because you wanted to let your actions speak for you. You pulled him in for a short, chaste kiss before you scooted up on the rock and laid down for him. The solid surface was uncomfortable at first, but then Mingyu had you get up for a moment so that he could spread his jacket out for you. You laid back down and looked up, gasping when you realized you had a perfect view of the setting sun.
Mingyu tugged down your shorts and underwear, making sure to carefully fold them and set them aside instead of just discarding them somewhere. Now that you could feel the coolness against your bare skin, you were grateful that his jacket was under you. He pulled his sweatpants down past his hips and hovered over you, eyes flickering up to meet yours. They were hazy, swimming with lust, but you could see his sincere adoration, too. He refused to kiss you because he didn’t want to obstruct your view of the sunset.
“Are you ready?” he asked, lifting his middle and ring finger to his lips and licking them for extra lubrication.
You sucked in a sharp breath at that. “Please—yes.”
Slowly, Mingyu pushed his fingers inside of you, watching you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut with an amused half-smile. His thumb worked slow circles on your clit while his fingers were nestled in you.
“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he instructed. “You’re gonna miss the sunset.”
Finding a steady pace was no problem for Mingyu at all. He watched you squirm and moan underneath him as his fingers slid in and out of your cunt. His knuckles were glistening with your arousal, and Mingyu stared at where they disappeared inside you with unfocused eyes. He curled his fingers inside you ever-so-slightly, passing over your g-spot, and you arched your back at the feeling.  
His name stuttered past your lips, coming out so raw and passionate that all the blood rushed to Mingyu’s cock. His boxers were tented, and you were once again intimidated by how huge he was. His bulge brushed against your thigh as he plunged his fingers into you.
You felt limp under his touch, but just when you felt prickles of heat under your skin, Mingyu’s fingers slid out of you. You nearly cried out over his false promise of a release as you dug your nails into his shoulders.
“The sky,” he whispered. Like it was instinct, he licked his fingers clean without batting an eye. An embarrassed rush of heat sank into your cheeks. “I need to be inside you for the rest of the sunset. Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely. “That’s okay. You can just pull out.” You looked straight into his eyes and said, “I trust you, Gyu.”
“Go raw? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, we can just get Plan B tomorrow, if anything.”
Kim Mingyu looked like he could die a happy man then and there.
He tugged down his boxers, letting his cock spring up and slap the underside of his belly. It was already huge and flushed with beads of precum collecting at his slit. Mingyu shuddered almost immediately when the cool air hit him.
He spread your legs with his large hands, and you swallowed thickly before Mingyu started rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He made sure to smear the arousal between your legs to your clit. The last rays of the sun shone on his face, and you could see the glint of hunger in his eyes.
At this point, you were nearly begging for him, so Mingyu started pushing into you carefully. His brows were pinched and his bottom lip was sucked into his teeth while he worked his way into you, his eyes glinting with utter focus.
It was so different without the condom. Intense. Hot. The drag of his cock inside you made you falter, absolutely loving the new friction and texture you were feeling.
You swallowed down your gasp with a shuddering breath. Your tight expression slowly relaxed as Mingyu’s cock worked its way inside you. Every time you wanted to close your eyes, you snapped them back open to catch a glimpse of the blurry hues above.
“That’s it,” he cooed, the praise only turning you on more. “You feel so good.”
He started circling your clit with his thumb again, getting your walls to relax so that you immediately took more of him in. Mingyu’s cock twitched inside of you, causing that one muscle in your leg to twitch. You weren’t sure how long you were going to be able to last if he kept teasing you like this.
When his head dipped into your opening, you sucked in a breath, but he did not enter just yet. Your hips bucked up against his, and Mingyu held them down so that he could position himself without slipping out of you. A sound that was between a deep chuckle and a grunt rumbled in his chest at your eagerness.
With little preamble, Mingyu started pushing deeper into you, letting himself sink while his breathing grew short. His cock brushed sensitive spots inside you that left your toes curling and your vision going blotchy. You watched the sky grow darker and darker, vibrant orange colors blending into deep reds.
A debauched moan bubbled past your lips once Mingyu started fucking into you slowly. Each roll of his hips brought a blinding wave of pleasure that left behind a sheen of sweat coating your body. The initial sting of penetration dissolved quickly into pleasure.
You dragged your nails down his well-defined back muscles, sighing blissfully with each thrust of Mingyu’s hips. His back muscles flexed underneath your hand as his cock worked in and out of you. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck and moaned along with you, and the look in his eyes told you that all he wanted to do was kiss you, but he was adamant on making you see the sun.
“Oh my god!” you cried out once Mingyu used his free hand to lift your leg over his hip, getting a better angle so that he could plunge into you. Blinking away tears, you were nearly sobbing when you said, “I… I didn’t say it back, Gyu. I love you, too. God, I’ve loved you back for so long, too.”
All the lust in Mingyu’s gaze had melted away, being replaced by the most loving gaze you had seen in his shining eyes. He leaned down to kiss you slow—a completely different pace from how he had been fucking you. When he pulled away, he kept his lips at the shell of your ear, whispering sweet nothings.
With his hips snapping into you at a near-animalistic pace, you were quickly reaching your peak. Mingyu seemed to take notice and rubbed your clit faster to catch you up to speed. Heat spread under your skin, making each nerve ending feel like it was on fire.
“There,” he gasped out after he turned his gaze up for a moment. “Do you see it? The sun kissing the sky?”
He had been waiting so long for you, pining so hard, that when your orgasm ripped through you, Mingyu came almost immediately after. He groaned before pulling out of you, his strained expression melting quickly into bliss once his release came. It seemed as though Mingyu didn’t want to get you dirty, so he shot his load to the side where he could hide it easily.
You looked up, and you finally saw how devastatingly beautiful the sunset was with its palette of colors exploding across the sky.
Reds. Oranges. Dying glimpses of yellows. You felt like you were experiencing a sensory overload with how the colors mixed and blended together while Mingyu was helping you ride out your orgasm.
This was it. This was the seventh heaven.
While you were still twitching from your intense orgasm, Mingyu sat up so that he could fix his pants, his chest rising and falling in tune with yours. You were still sprawled out on the rock, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon. The previously colorful sky had been drowned out by black and blue, but it was still bright enough to make out your surroundings.
“I never answered you properly,” you said after you caught your breath. The clouds rolled out of view, revealing the illuminated moon that shone down on you two. You sat up, meeting Mingyu’s curious gaze and declaring, “I’d love to go out with you.”
You had never really been able to fully understand what love was. It had been a foreign concept to you for years. When Mingyu smiled brightly and kissed you again, though, it had never been so clear to you.
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You honestly felt bad for the librarian.
As soon as you and Mingyu walked into the library hand-in-hand, you heard a chorus of groans from your friend group’s table. They were all jeering at you like they hadn’t been the ones convincing you to ask out Mingyu a few days ago. This time, Ryujin was also mocking you with them.
(You had asked her to show up so that you could give her the Smiski figurine she had delivered to your house. You had no idea why your friends kept ordering things and using your address for delivery.)
Soonyoung cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, “Get a room!”
“We’re just holding hands!” Mingyu exclaimed. “You’re acting like we’re in the Victorian ages.” He waved his hand to get Soonyoung to move. “Give me some room so we can work on our project together.”
You giggled and took your seat next to Mingyu, your pinkies interlocked under the table. You were sure the honeymoon phase would wear off in a few months, but for now, you couldn’t get enough of each other. Of course, you kept most of your PDA behind closed doors so that your friends would taunt you, but you were happy with that.
Speaking of your friends, they were all over-the-moon when you and Mingyu announced that you were dating. Ryujin had screamed into your ear so loudly that you were pretty sure you experienced temporary hearing loss.
You and Mingyu also finally returned the whiteboard to the community room after erasing all of the sexual terminology on it. You two were surprised that you actually managed to knock out everything on both lists that hadn’t been canceled. Apparently, Jeonghan had been distressed over the whiteboard’s disappearance and filed a complaint to get a new one. He got his happy ending, too, when you and Mingyu rolled it back into the room.
“Y/N, Mingyu,” Jungwoo called. “Body counts—go!”
Mingyu blinked. “One?” he deadpanned. “Why would it be higher than that, dude?”
It was your turn now, with all eyes on you. Before, you wondered why you even felt the need to lie about something like that. It had all seemed like such a silly concern back then, but now you realized that there had never been a rush to lose your v-card.
Now, you could confidently say, “One.”
Because Kim Mingyu’s Guide To Losing Your Virginity really was effective.
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mingyu: hey mingyu: what happens when we finish the marvel marathon
y/n: wdym
mingyu: like what do we do with our lives mingyu: 70 hours and 46 minutes mingyu: it has to end eventually mingyu: we’ve been marathoning all this time with no foreseeable end until now
y/n: what did we do before the marvel marathon
mingyu: the barbie marathon
y/n: and what did we do before that
mingyu: the disney princesses marathon
y/n: and before that
mingyu: the saw marathon
y/n: exactly y/n: we will keep marathoning for as long as marathons exist
mingyu: is that your way of saying we’re forever?
y/n: yes it is
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AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ if you made it all the way to the end, MUAH! thank you so much for reading !! and thank you to everyone who asked to be on the tag list, i was so floored by the love you guys showed the teaser ♡ first and foremost, i have to shoutout fia for being the reason i changed my magic mike joke to magic mingyu. i would also like to shoutout mingyu for existing because his existence is the reason why this came into fruition. also shoutout to you for reading this because wow!!! you sat through all those words??? i am so honored, really :’) i hope you enjoyed this, thank you for being on this rollercoaster with me, and i hope you look forward to my future works
TAG LIST ▸ @matchahyuck @playboysh-t @jintaema @hoonflrt @desi-brownie @dreaming-on-clouds-blog @xiaoting999 @staygenezy @jwlmnbt @hipsdofangirl @baeseungcheolie @everywonuu @multiplums @shinetogether17 @jeonsrv @chickenstripsonapole @nunchuckd @florcix6​ @stariszn @kissesfrmwonwoo @yikesmary @neejaatjeh @chansdimplesmile @mewiththemess @cookiechristie @mi-seonha @mingy0u @shgyuie @alvanie @watermelon-sugar-things @prodsh00ky​ @itskkung​ @yelsuki​ @cottoncheol​ @hella-sirius​ @spiderlingh​ @fixonbreakoff​ @cupcake416​ @expensive-idiot​ @bambam7​ @seri22 @ixdelv​ @hopefulchick​ @markleeiloveu @svtfix @sunnysorasworld​ @bluest-sky01 @smileywonnie @notevenheretbh1​ @peachyaeger​ @arianna-r13​ @luvv4jiung​ @caticorn61​ @sulkygyu​ @jhornytrash​ @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan​ @amourcheol​ @yogurttea​ @mental-hollows​ @byunfirstlady​ @tis-niki​ @esloao​ @onedumbho3​ @wonudazed​ ​@marklee-czennie @listxn​ @shiveringgaze​ @luvyouchuu​ @taintedsorrowa5158​ @sjjnx​ @cherimbp @jeonquilsposts @suzirumas​ @leclercloverbot​ @ilove-taeyong​ @na-ni @emptypromisesx​ @iwouldbangchan​ @melies-world @breadstickk​ @coupsgal​ @asyre​ @sanniekook​ @mingyusrealwife @yoonzinoooo​ @doyoism @turtash​ @lilsafsafbooyah​ @karlluvr​ @ana-marais98​ @staplerrrr​ @kpopficsworld​ @diorjgguk​ @tojorocks​ @taesdior​ @biteme690 @seomisaho​ @svtcaratlove​ @catloafff @kyeominara​ @delicatewinterenthusiast​ 
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no-144444 · 22 days ago
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Mark my words.- o.piastri
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summary: mark slips up about your marriage.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! rb!mechanic! wife! reader
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He crossed the finish line, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Sure, Checo had crashed in the last lap and Max had gotten p6. Not a good result, but then again, that’s what you had told Christian would happen if he didn’t let you build the car. 
You were Adrian’s protege. You were the next Newey. Christian was just too focused on the past. 
“Fuck!” he groaned, slamming his headset on the desk. 
“I told you so,” you sighed, leaving him at the desk and running to the parc fermé. Oscar would be coming through in mere minutes, and you wanted to be there to see him. Secretly dating another team’s driver wasn’t easy, but you two made it work. You were both lowkey about things, even though you’d been married for about a year now. You stood beside Nicole, far away from your own team, but you didn’t really care. You wanted to see the light in his eyes when he came up to his mum and you. 
Nicole wrapped her arms around you, cheering as you both relived the moment that Oscar had won. Oscar Piastri, 2 time Gran Prix winner. He’d proven himself time and time again, he wasn’t a second driver, and McLaren now had a difficult choice to make. 
But all that was for another day. Today was about Oscar. 
He ran over to the team, finally spotting his mum and you beside her. You could see from his eyes that he was smiling. She pulled him into a tight hug. 
“You did it!” she cheered, holding him close. “I’m so proud of you.”
He pulled off his helmet, smiling at her. “Thanks mum, love you loads,” he smiled, then turned his attention to you. “Not bad, eh?”
You smirked. “Not bad Piastri.”
“Not bad for you either, Piastri,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. 
“Go get weighed idiot, I’ll catch you in the airport, yeah?”
“Wouldn’t miss you for the world,” he winked, then walked off to continue the celebrations. 
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You woke up the next morning, sore, with Oscar beside you. You groaned as you turned over, shutting off his alarm. “Osc,” you yawned. 
“Shush,” he whispered. “Five more minutes.”
“Oscar, we need to get up,” you reminded him, but he just tightened his grip on your waist. “Come on Osc, I need a shower.”
He smirked and you rolled your eyes, not missing his innuendo. “I could-”
“We did enough of that last night, give me time to recover,” you laughed. “Worth a shot,” he smiled. “Alright, I’ll start on some breakfast.”
He pressed his lips to yours in a sweet greeting (also short because his breath stinks in the morning) and you went your separate ways. This weekend was Singapore, and you knew how tough it was on every driver, engineer, and mechanic. Singapore was always the race you dreaded. It was unpredictable and hot. Way too hot. 
You came out of the shower to see Oscar pacing the kitchen, on the phone with a very stressed Mark. “No I understand that, but I thought they wouldn’t hear us… I-I didn’t mean to-“
“Oscar, it’s too late mate. You’d better just come out with it, or get your mum to, or something. People are getting really confused and they think Y/n is your sister or something,” Mark sighed
You burst out laughing, making Oscar laugh. 
“They think we’re siblings?” you laughed. “What the fuck?”
“You did call her ‘Piastri’ to be fair mate,” Mark chuckled.
“Well that is her second name!” he defended.
“Osc, just post our wedding photos or something,” you shrugged. “Or we could just let people speculate.”
“Sorry baby, but I don’t really love the idea of people thinking you’re one of my sisters,” he mocked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. 
You shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast he'd made you. “I don’t care, I’m just an insignificant engineer from RedBull.”
He rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re so helpful,” he responded sarcastically.
“Using sarcasm as a defence mechanism because you don’t want to admit you’re the breadwinner of the family? How humble and noble of you,” you laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek and squeezing his ass, making him jump. 
“I hate it when you do that,” he scoffed, batting your hand away. You knew he loved it. 
“Anyways, what’s our action plan lads?” Mark asked. 
“Up to you,” you shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Will I post on twitter and act like it’s been common knowledge?” He suggested.
“Mate, no one would believe that. You’re known for keeping things secret and being nonchalant, just do that,” Mark laughed. 
“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. “Thanks Mark.”
“See you in Singapore,” he sighed and you grained as Oscar hung up the phone. 
“Fucking Singapore,” you groaned. 
“I know,” he nodded in agreement. “Hopefully this year I won’t be as ill.”
“Let’s fucking hope so,” you smoothed down his hair. “You need to start brushing your hair baby. It’s so awful in the mornings.”
His lips became a line and he nodded. “Humbling me isn’t always necessary,” he breathed out and wrapped his arms around you, grabbing your ass as he pressed kisses on your face and neck. “But it is appreciated,” he finished sarcastically, as you pushed him off giggling. 
“You’d appreciate it more if you took the advice,” you muttered, taking a bite of your toast. 
He shook his head, chuckling. “How’d I get so lucky?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
You shrugged. “By using the dark arts?” you teased and he just laughed. 
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You walked into the Singapore paddock with Lando, deep in conversation about his upcoming birthday party. You usually weren’t photographed all that often in the paddock, and when you were, it’s usually because you were beside a driver or someone more important, mostly because you were known to ruin photos. Holding up your middle finger, threatening to flash the camera, etc, it’s what has made you a Gen Z favourite. You also refused to go up on the podium, no matter how many times Max asked. You were pretty low-key about everything, it worked well. 
“So I was definitely thinking a DJ, but what about the dress code? Should it be casual? Business casual? Black tie?” he questioned. 
You rolled your eyes. “Club attire Lando, it’s being held at a club, let people dress like they’re going to a club.”
He nodded, as if he’d never thought of that. “You’re a genius!”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” you sighed as he walked off to the McLaren motorhome. 
You walked off to the RedBull motorhome, noticing more cameras on you than normal. Most people just left you alone, it wasn’t often that the camera followed you (mostly because of your aforementioned behaviour), but tonight they wouldn’t let up. 
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Even as you sat in the pitlane, chatting to Daniel, you were still being recorded. 
“Do you know what this whole thing is about?” you asked Daniel and he looked at you like you were crazy. 
“Have you not seen what Mark posted?” he asked, his eyes wide. 
“What the fuck did he post?” you asked, rushing to get your phone out. 
And there it was. Mark had announced it for you. 
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aussiegrit
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tagged: oscarpiastri , reallyy/n
Liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen and 872,928 others
aussiegrit: These two crazy kids were too busy being in love (and winning races) to tell you guys that they’re married! Love you two xxx
comments
alexalbon: oh oscar’s going to go mad.
landonorris: marks time of death: now.
oscarpiastri: I WANTED TO POST FIRST
oscarpiastri: THIS SHIT IS UNFAIR. FUCK YOU MARK -> reallyy/n: someone will be sent to the stewards if you don't stop with the language...
pierregasly: it still freaks me out that they're MARRIED and 22 and 23. like wtf. -> kikagomez: 👀 -> pierregasly: ... -> user82: SHE CLOCKED YOU I FEAR
user93: I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS (no i'm not.)
user22: THIS IS SO ADORABLE WTF
sebvettel: good memories! officiating was such a blast! -> user883: SEB OFFICIATED? -> user21: it makes sense, y/n has been super close with the schumachers and seb since she was a kid because of her dads job as a mechanic in f1. he worked for ferrari from the 1980s to around 2015. -> user02: LORE DROP?????
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“That dickhead!” you cursed. “I’m going to go find Osc, I’ll be right back.”
He nodded and sent you on your way. You had to tell Oscar, he definitely didn’t know yet, right? He was going to lose it at Mark, he wanted to be the one to post, he wan-
And you walked into someone. Someone wearing papaya. Oscar wearing papaya. Oscar. 
“Did you see?!” “Did you see?!”
You both chuckled, then remembered the situation. 
“I’ll kill him for you if you want?” you offered and he just smiled. 
“It had to come out somehow,” he shrugged. “Though, those aren’t the pictures I’d pick.” 
“We all know what pictures you’d pick,” Lando interjected, winking at you. Oscar elbowed him. “I meant your wedding pictures!” “Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “Anyway, we can call him later and kill him together. Sounds good?” 
He nodded, wrapping a hand around your waist, the other landing on your ass. “Sounds great.” 
He quickly pressed his lips to yours, feeling all of the cameras on him, but still not caring. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” you smiled before walking away, back to your conversation with Daniel. 
Mark was going to get murdered, that was just a fact. Mark your words.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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misserabella · 1 year ago
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SICK LOVE
perv! obsessed ellie x fem!reader pt.2
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pt1
summary; after catching your best friend ellie in a compromised situation, the two of you leave behind the ‘friend’ status to become a couple. if only you knew there was much more under the surface…
cw; +18 content, really perv!ellie, dark themes, somnophilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squiring, oral sex (r and e receiving), dom ellie, strap on sex, use of toys (dildo and magic wand), masturbation (r and e), edging, slapping, orgasm denial, cum eating, voyeurism, dacryphilia, dirty talking, hair pulling, knife kink, (mentioned), blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!
If Ellie was absolutely and sickly obsessed with you…, it sure wasn’t the worse it could get.
Her mind was in a haze since the first time she made you hers. It had been before, but now? It was just fog all over her brain, a fog under your name.
She could only think about you, dream about you, talk about you… It was all you.
And now that you were hers, her whole heart seemed to have been ripped out of her chest. She would love to make a necklace out of it for you, so you and anyone who would try and approach you would know that she was as much yours as you were hers.
But because she could not do that, she had made her personal mission to found other ways to do the same with no… Hanging hearts. So she had to conform with just marking you everywhere. Hickeys on your neck and chest, fingertip bruises on your thighs and hips, bites on your shoulders… She’ll put them everywhere and do them anywhere too, whenever and wherever she had a chance.
At first, she thought that you’d be scared by her possessiveness, but you surprised her yet once again when you’d just let her, loving her lips and marks on your skin as much as she did. She’d drag you to the closest empty classroom in free period just to pin you against the wall and attack your neck in mouth open wet kisses that had you rocking your hips against the leg that she had pushed in between your own, her cold fingertips against the warm skin of your thighs and ass, squeezing . “Looking so pretty today, baby.” she’d say, her breath against the wet of your skin, making you shiver. “Fuck, I love it when you wear this little skirts of yours, got me all wet on my pants.” you’d moan when her hand would leave your skin just to fell harshly against it in a spank. “Love to see all those fuckers watching you, drooling over you yet still unable to get closer to you because they know you’re all mine...” her mouth was intoxicating, her tongue inside your mouth making your eyes roll and pussy throb. “Wear anything you want baby, anything you want.” she’d whisper, her fingertips trailing along your lower stomach just to bump against the hem of your panties and snuck under them, rolling your clit and making your head fall backwards and against the wall she had pinned you to. “I’ll make sure to mark you all up and pretty for them to know that they will never have what they so want.” and then, she’d choke you to stay quiet as she’d eat you out on top of the teacher’s table, sneaking your wet panties in her back pocket for later.
Her obsession enhanced. Now that you were a couple, she didn’t have to hold it in anymore —at least that much…—. She’d sneak in your bedroom in the middle of the night to wake you up with her strap deep inside of you. You’d end up crying on her chest as she would fuck you dumb, filling you up for hours on end and using you as she would use her toy. Then, she’d stay inside, keeping her cock warm and your pussy full for the rest of the night. She’d even use the soft spot you had on her to make you sit on it in your stupid study dates, while napping, watching films…, saying that she wouldn’t concentrate if you didn’t.
She was a sucker for you, always tying up your shoes when the laces would come undone —taking the chance to stare at your clothed pussy—, braiding your hair for you —so she could get a sniff of your sweet shampoo—, putting on your makeup first thing in the morning when you were still half asleep —when she could steal some chapsticks for him to use and taste when she’d miss you— and softly taking it off for you when night time came… —sometimes she’d make you cry it out, fucking it out of you—. Anything she could do for you she would do, that and more.
She would often find herself in your room after telling you that she had to take a quick trip to the bathroom, looking for some new panties and little trinkets for her sweet collection and to touch herself buried in your sheets. She’d dry hump your pillow too, leaving it damp in cum for it to dry. The thought of you sleeping on it that night would have her whimpering in her own bedroom, fucking her fingers into her cunt while watching a bad porn in where the girl’s moans sounded like your own, groans falling from her broken and bleeding lips, for constantly biting down on them. ‘Oh god, baby, so good… shit, you like that? Shit, just like that, fuck, you drive me insane…’
Her photo collection had grown… Really grown. Her favorite new acquisitions were the ones in which she had captured your perfectly used cunt, —your cum dripping out of it and onto your pink sheets— or the ones in which she could see her cock thrusting in your pussy, drool dripping down your chin, since her fingers where down your throat, and chest, neck and tits full of her marks. ‘Yeah, baby. Look at me. Just like that. Stuck your tongue out for me.’
She could not imagine herself nor pussy being away from you for even just a day. And who is it that you want to trick? You couldn’t either. Not when she sounded so fucking pretty every time you rode her, her usually soft groans becoming loud whimpers and moans, hips thrusting upwards in seek of more. ‘Fuck, ah, ah baby, please, please baby harder. Just like that, fuck, yes yes, shit, I love you. Love you so much… I’d do anything for you, baby, fuck, anything. Just let me stay like this, fuck! I’m gonna cum baby, fuck, fuck, fuck…’
Something she loved to do every chance she could get was taste you after cheer practice —something you’ve decided try as of late, and Ellie was all for it—. You had whined about it, saying that you were all sweaty and disgusting and that it wouldn’t taste good, but she wasn’t having it. She had been watching you turn, jump and shake your hips for almost two hours in that fucking little cheer skirt that actually drove her crazy. And she had to say that the splits that you’d do every now and then really didn’t help the throbbing in between her thighs. So, after your head leader had announced the end of the session, you’d find yourself holding for dear life to her hair as she kneeled in front of you, pulling up one of your legs for it to rest on her shoulder as her tongue laped at your soaked pussy, eating you out against the lockers of the girls’ changing room. The scent was stronger after your night practices. The taste? Mind blowing. Additionally, you had to admit that the shower sex after that was enough to make you fall asleep on your way back home. Not that she found it a problem, she loved to carry you to her bed just to kiss your forehead and hug you tighter in your slumber. Watching you sleep would get her so horny sometimes that she couldn’t help herself by dry humping against your ass, hands on your tits as she kissed your neck. She loved it when you would yell at her the morning after about the new hickeys all over your skin —since she always seemed to push it too far those nights—, but she wouldn’t care less, not when your tits bounced like that and your pretty lips called her name over and over again. At the end of the day, she’d have you screaming her name in another type of scenario, and you wouldn’t be that pissed about love bites on your neck.
She also loved to tease you. Pushing your panties aside and fucking you with her fingers while in a gathering with your best friends. Your squirming and tries to not show having her rocking against your ass. Sometimes she’d even drop something under the diner’s table where you’d be eating together to get a taste of your dripping juices, making you almost cum in the spot. Or those movie nights with your group, where she’d have you crying in the nook of her shoulder due to the amount of times she had already made you cum with her fingers, deliciously overstimulating you. ‘Is she okay?’ You’d hear one of your friends ask, and Ellie would just say that you were too sensitive or too scared depending on what type of movie y’all were watching that night.
The best sex came later, when you would follow her to the bathroom and she would fuck you so harsh on her strap your cheek would end up press against the sink mirror, fingers down your throat to make you shut up, since your cries were so loud it almost got the two of you caught… Not that she’d care, just the thought of someone stepping in to her fucking you senseless had her cumming against the back of the strap… Cum that she’d push inside your cunt with her fingers as she pushed your panties back up for it to stay there.
“Be a good girl and I’ll eat it out of you once we are alone, hm?” and she actually would, making you come two more times with just her tongue, leaving you clean.
Something she had started to look into was a little bit more…, darker. She had feared herself when the thought of you bleeding with her initials carved on your skin almost made her faint. Just thinking about you completely to her mercy, all tied up and open for her unable to move, got her unable to sleep for almost a week. She could almost hear your pleads and cries as she fucked into you with already a little vibrator bullet inside.
But the dream you both where living in had to end someday. She just wished it never had to.
That night, the two of you were returning from a day on the Jackson’s pool with Dina and Jessie, your hair still wet since you had been begging her to stay for a little longer, having to pull you out of the water when the sun had gone down and you were shivering, fingers all pruned due to just how many hours you had spent in there. The skin of your cheeks, chest and shoulders was sun kissed, flushed even if Ellie had made sure that you had sunscreen applied every hour. “Woah! Careful babe.” she smiled when you had slipped against the wooden tiles, giggles leaving your lips when her strong arms pressed you against her chest to avoid you falling and hurting yourself.
“Sorry, I guess I can’t help falling for you, Ellie.” she chuckled, your burning skin against her colder one making her slightly dizzy, her pussy throbbing inside her blue short jeans when your nails scratched her chest, doe eyes looking up at her as you bit your bottom lip.
“That’s my line, baby.” she muttered, leaning in ‘till your breaths met, lips brushing and hips pressing against each other. You moaned when her tongue pushed inside your mouth in a hot yet lazy kiss, the hands on your hips sliding down, to your ass, where her fingers hardly dug, squeezing and pressing you against her.
The temperature of the room quickly changed, gasps filling the air with every new kiss that you shared, her fingers tugging on the towel that surrounded you and getting it to fall to your feet. You let out a chuckle that quickly tuned into a moan when her mouth latched to your neck, bitting down hard on the flesh and leaving marks. “Els…” you called out for her, hearing her hum against your skin as one of her legs pushed in between your thighs. “We need to shower.”
“I’ll clean you up baby.” your cheeks flushed when her tongue made a long strip up your neck and towards your ear. “You know I’m good at that.” and you knew what she meant, but you still wouldn’t give in, hearing her groan when you pulled her away from your neck by her hair. “Baby…” her lips tried and go back to yours, but you shook your head.
“I need to go wash up.” her hands pulled on your hips to keep you closer.
“I could wash up with you.” she suggested and you chuckled, shaking your head, to what she whined, almost in pain to have to be away from you for… 10 minutes.
“I’ll be back.” you promised, giving her a little peck on the lips, leaning on her ear so only she could listen to what you whispered. “Keep this warm for me, alright?” she whimpered when one of your hands came down to the crotch of his jeans, giving a light squeeze to her drooling cunt, quickly leaving upstairs and scaping her hands.
Normally, Ellie was pretty patient. Hell, she had been patient with you for years on end, hoping for the day that she got to finally fuck you. But there was something about you after that first taste that had her all hot and bothered. You were like a drug. She’d always want more and more after each overdose. She couldn’t help it, you were all she had ever dreamed of. That’s why she found herself silently sneaking up stairs and straight to her room —which was connected to her private bathroom, where you had eventually brought little bottles of your own shampoos and conditioners for this little occasions where you had to shower at her house—. She had hoped to catch you stripping, maybe even looking for some of her clothes to change into, but never in a thousand years she had imagined this…
You were frozen, completely frozen. Standing in the middle of her room and beside her desk, which’s last drawer was fully open and exposed. She felt her blood run cold. That was supposed to be locked. You weren’t supposed to see what was inside, weren’t supposed to be eyeing her little collection of your naked pictures nor porn magazines with your face glued on top of the model’s. You had seen it all. All the little trinkets she has stolen from you…, all the panties that had misteriously disappeared from your drawers, the new and untouched toys she had bought in hopes to someday use on you: mouth gags, dildos, vibratos, handcuffs…Everything.
“Baby…” she stuttered, your eyes still fixated on the little polaroids and sticky pages of the magazine. It hadn’t been long since the last time she had masturbated to them. Maybe that’s why in a little slip she had forgotten to lock the drawer, the magazine sticking out far enough to catch your attention and leaving you out of words when you’d found her little dirty secret. “Shit.” You had even found her fucking diary, in which she described the dirty things she dreamed of you, that she’d love to do to you… Fucking hell.
She didn’t know what to say to not seem like the creep she was. She had fucked up big time. And now you were going to leave her, you were going to probably call the police and get her in jail with a little restraining order as a welcome gift. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, fuck, you weren’t supposed to see any of this, you weren’t supposed to…” she was trailing off as her feet quickly approached you, trying so hard not to cry that her heart fell to the pit of her stomach when a little whimper came out of your rosy and fully lips. Her eyes widened when she saw the look on your face and state you were in: half-lided and glossy eyes looking up at her, cheeks and ears fully blushed and thighs squeezing and pushing flush against each other. You were supposed to feel disgusted, terrified. And yet there you were, wetter and needier than ever. “Look at me.” the low of her voice almost made you cum, walls clenching and breath hitching.
“Ellie…” you whined when her thumb and index finger harshly took your chin, making your head turn towards her. Your voice was a mere whisper, but it still had her blood rushing to her head… and south.
“Look at me.” she repeated, this time taking her time with every word to make sure you heard the warning on them. It was not a plead, it was an order. You gasped when your eyes met hers, completely fucked out of your brain and feeling dizzy, Ellie made you feel dizzy, the words on her diary had. It was just so much need in them, so many promises of tears and pleasure… Her eyes were just two black holes, pupils blown and breathing slow. “Look at you. You’re getting off on this?” she chuckled, unable to believe any of it. You whimpered when her hand left your chin to grip your neck, pulling you against her chest and caging you against the wall on your back. You were boiling up, almost evaporating when her lips brushed against the conch of your ear. “Did my little secret turn you on, baby? Did that little pussy of yours got all wet while reading my diary?” you moaned when her leg pressed in between your thighs, she could feel the heat of your core against her bare thigh. “Aw of course you did, you love it, don’t you? Love to know just how much I crave you. How much I want to hurt you and make you cry on my cock. Make you bleed… Fuck you all up and pretty for me until you’re nothing more than a hole for me to fuck into, hm?” you nodded, your head falling backwards in a whimper when she pushed upwards and against your clit, making you rut on her. Her lips were all over your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot that got you begging her for more. “Is that what you want, baby? Want me to fill you up on my cum? Use you? Cut you?”
“Fuck, Ellie, yesyesyes please, anything you want. Anything.” she groaned against the skin of your shoulder, biting hard enough to leave a mark. It hurt, badly, but it only made you crave her more. Crave it more. Your hands tangled on her air, her half-lidded eyes on yours, which were fixated on her lips.
“What is it baby? Want a taste?” she leaned in, a smirk on his face. You whined at her teasing, pushing her against you when her lips brushed against yours, still not giving in. She clicked her tongue, the hand on your neck pining you harshly against the wall, making your head bump slightly against it. “If you want something… You just need to ask.” your back arched when her free hand snuck down to your chest, tugging on your upper part of your bikini, making your tits pop out. You gasped at her harsh grip on one of them.
“Please Ellie, kiss me, kiss me…” you craved it so bad it hurt.
“Poor thing. Why don’t you open your mouth for me, hm?” you didn’t wait to follow her words, moaning when her tongue entered your mouth, hips stuttering as you dry humped her thigh. She kissed you to the verge of tears. It felt so good, her right hand on your neck and her left leaving your nipples to slowly stumble down your stomach and slip inside the bottoms of your bikini, which laces she quickly unmade, throwing the piece of clothing aside. Your mouth fell open in a cry when her fingers bumped against your clit, a harsh slap being given to your cunt when her name fell from your lips. Your hips buckled against her hand, the sting bringing new tears to your eyes. “Be good baby, you know that’s not my name, is it?” you shook your head.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry daddy…” a smirk tugged on her lips, and she rewarded you with her fingertips back on that sensitive spot, when your mouth fell open in a whimper taking the chance and spitting inside of it.
“Now swallow.” you gratefully did, gasping for air when the hand on your neck pushed in your mouth, fingers making you whimper. “What a beautiful mouth you have…” you moaned when she thrusted her fingers in your throat. And you took it, tongue swirling and sucking on them as you rocked your hips against her fingers and thigh. “Yet no one has yet showed you how to properly use it.” you felt like crying when she took a step back, leaving you squirming and in need of her touch, which came back, harshly than ever to make you sink to your knees, fingers in between your locks. “You know your safe word, right?” you nodded as you heard the ruffling of her jeans and underwear, zipper and button unbuckled leading the denim to fall and pool around her ankles, her soaked underwear came shortly after. She looked into your eyes as she stepped out of them. “Good… If it’s too much just let me know, okay sweetheart?” You moaned affirmatively when she parted her legs, letting her soaked folds and throbbing clit show, her slick staining her inner thighs. “Open.” she didn’t have to ask twice, lips parting ready to receive her on your mouth, which was watering at the thought of a taste of her, of swallowing her cum. She cursed when you kitten licked her from her hole to her clit, the tangy taste of her arousal making your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hands eagerly push her hips closer, head leaning in to completely take her as you pushed one of her thighs over your shoulder, just to whimper when she tugged harder on your hair, not letting you get any closer. “Such a fucking slut hungry for pussy.” she chuckled, loving just how needy you looked to have her on your mouth. “I bet that’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t that right? Want me to fuck that little and pretty mouth of yours, hm?” you nodded, a ‘yes, please daddy, want your pussy so bad…’, leaving your lips, what made her click her tongue, tongue slightly gracing her core when you pushed it out of your mouth. “Then fucking take it.” you were moaning when she thrusted her hips against your mouth, the hand in your hair pushing you against her cunt, nose buried in her pubic hair as your nails dug on her thighs. You couldn’t breath. “What is it, baby? Isn’t this what you wanted?” you whimpered when she started to grind onto your tongue, picking up a pace that had you short on air. But the feeling of her cunt fucking your mouth had you only begging for more of that harsh treatment, making you impossibly wet. You were crying in pleasure and pain, tears running down your cheeks as you sucked on her clit. “Aw, you crying?” the sight of your tears only made her buck her hips harder and faster against your face. “I couldn’t care less.” Ellie could feel her hole twitching around your tongue every time you fucked it deep inside her. “Yeah, baby, shit, just like that… What a dirty girl…” one of the hands that stood on her thighs travelled down in between your legs, fingers circling your clit in search of a release that you so desperately wanted. “Are you touching yourself?“ you nodded against her pussy, your nose bumping against her clit and a whimper leaving your lips when she gave you a harsh slap. “Such a desperate little bitch… Who told you you could make yourself cum, huh?” she pulled away from your mouth and you gasped for air, which didn’t actually last long since there was already a hand around your neck as she kneeled with you.
“I’m sorry daddy!” you quickly apologized, taking your hand away from your soaking pussy.
“Yeah, you’ll be.” next thing you knew? Your back was making impact with her bedsheets, getting a moan out of your lips when her body pressed against yours, lips latched to your neck.
“Fuck!” you screamed when two of her fingers harshly pushed inside of you, fucking you as she sucked on your nipples, fully erect.
“Is this what you wanted, hm? Tell me baby, is this what you wanted? My fingers fucking your brains out and making you cum? I’m sure you do, you dirty whore…” you thighs trembled when she hit that sweet spot in your gummy walls, thumb circling your clit.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you nodded, unable to talk, unable to fucking open your mouth. All you could focus on was on Ellie, on her long fingers fucking in and out of you, of her teeth on your tits, on her pussy fully pressed against one of your thighs, leaking and ready to cum.
“Fuck Ellie, i-i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna…” and as your walls clenched, you cried out when she left you with nothing. Making your high never reach its peak as she pulled his fingers out of you. Your whole body was trembling due to the denial of your orgasm, hands quickly reaching out for her, but she pressed them against the duvet, fingers digging in your wrists. “Please, Ellie, daddy, shit, I was so close…”
“I didn’t say you could come yet, sweetheart. Only good girls get to cum.” oh, she was playing you. You knew this was her little vengeance for that day you had caught her touching herself. Her eyes shone with lust when you whimpered due to the spank her hand gave to your soaked cunt. “Look at that. You really want it, hm? So needy for me…” your back arched when her thumb was back to your clit, toying with the little nub enough to edge you but not to make you cum. She relished in the little pleads that left your lips. ‘Please daddy, let me cum, please? I’ll do anything, anything. Ellie, shit, please…’ “Anything?” you nodded, too lost in that sickening pleasure your body succumbed to even notice the subtle change in her gaze. “Okay, then don’t regret it later…”
And then she was gone, leaving you completely alone in her bed as she stood up, looking for something before she would come back to you. Your half-lided eyes could get a glance of what she was holding in between her wet fingers: a dildo. On her left hand stood a magic wand.
You moaned when her lips found yours, teeth clashing and tongues brushing each other as she sucked on your bottom lip. “If you’re so desperate…, why don’t you show me how much you want it?” she said once she had pulled away, tongue outlining her swollen lips as her hand —the one that held the toy— rose up to your eyes, you whined when you understood what she was doing; swapping places.
“Ellie…” you whimpered, your cries being shut out when— after having left the wand aside— her hand cupped your face, making your lips pout out a little bit, brushing against her own.
“Come on, you said you’d do anything.“ she was smirking when her thumb pressed against your bottom lip, dragging it downwards and then sticking her thumb in your mouth. “Good girls get to cum, and maybe, if you put up a good show for me… I’ll fuck your just how you need it, hm?” she clicked her tongue when you nodded, tongue swirling around her finger. “Then go ahead, let me see you use the toy, sweetheart.”
She leaned backwards, letting you have your own space as she handed you the dildo. It was heavy in your hands, and pink, with just the perfect girth and length —there’s no need to say that Ellie’s strap was bigger in both ways, and much more beautiful…— with even veins on its sides.
Her eyes never left you as you neared it to your gushing cunt, letting your soaked lips surround it to lube it up. You sighed at the feeling of its tip pushing against your clit, using its head to tease yourself up and down, sometimes slightly pushing around your hole. “Yeah, that’s right. Touch yourself for me… That’s a good girl.” you moaned as you saw her hand reach in between her folds, sliding up and down, slowly, as she observed you. It only made you want her more. Your back arched as you slowly pushed it inside you, eyes falling shut when you felt the burning stretch, gasping for air when you finally bottomed out with a raspy moan. “Fuck, baby, just like that… So pretty.” her praising made your walls clench around the silicone as you slowly started to fuck yourself with it. “Look at you…” she chuckled when you started to pick up the pace. “Needy, honey?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you hit that hidden spot, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip when a scream tried to leave your chest. “Don’t silence yourself, baby. Let me hear you.” her hand matched your pace, fucking herself on her fingers, a groan leaving her lips at the sight of the toy disappearing in between your sticky folds.
“Ellie, fuck, please, need you so bad, need your cock Ellie, shit…”
“Fuck, you’re such a fucking slut…” she moaned, getting on top of your body once again, her soaked toys meeting your hand at the base of the toy to harshly push it inside of you, making you scream. “You like that, hm? Like fucking yourself while I watch, yeah? Fucking whore, you love the attention, don’t you?” you were a babbling mess, drooling all over the sheets as the tip of the toy mercilessly pushed against your g spot, making you see stars behind your close eyes. “You want my cock, hm? Want my cock, sweetheart?”
“Yes please, Ellie, pleasepleaseplease, fuck me please…” your hips were bucking against her hand, begging for more. And just like that she left you there, touching yourself as you watched her put on her strap, clicking it close around her hips. You were burning up, craving her in ways you’ve never craved anyone before. Craving for her to use you, destroy you. You moaned when the top of her cock pressed against your clit, making your head spin as she continued to pound inside of you with the dildo before pulling it out with a squelch, you moaned when you felt her align the strap with your hole. “Need it so bad…Then take it, take my cock, baby.” You hands quickly came up to her shoulders, finding leverage and moaning when the tip went in, tears pricking at your eyes when you felt her start to push inside of you. Finally. You were so painfully full and stretched that your nails dug on her shoulder, making her moan against your neck. It was always a stretch. So fucking big… “Fuck. So tight. Shit. Fuck, I love you.” he said, kissing your lips. “I love you so much…” you both moaned in each other’s mouth as her hips pushed further, slowly bottoming out and gasping when she was completely in, the back of the strap brushing against her clit. “What a good girl…” you whimpered on her hands as she praised you. “So tight for me.” your back arched when she started to move. It was slow at first, trying to get you accustomed to the feeling while making your mind drift off from the slight pain to the stimulation of your clit and nipples —which she sucked and bit down onto—.
“Shit, Ellie…” she smirked when your frown smoothed out, mouth falling open when she hit your g spot, legs surrounding her hips and fingers digging in her messy and silky hair. “Just like that, don’t stop, please…”
“Look at you… You love the feeling of my cock inside you, don’t you? Filling you up so good you can’t even breath, hm? What a whore…” you moaned, exposing your neck to her lips.
“Ellie!” you screamed when her thrusts became harder, relentless and merciless, hands tugging on your nipples.
“Do you feel it baby? Feel your pussy all stretched out for me?” she almost came in the spot when her eyes connected with the bulge on your stomach. “Fuck, look at that. So full of me…” you didn’t mean to, but you were cumming all over her cock when her fingers pushed against it, making a scream rip out your throat as your walls clenched around the strap. Everything was white and the world went absolutely quiet as you dissolved in her arms, unable to even breath at the intensity of your orgasm. “Shit, that was so fucking hot…” her hips stuttered when your walls fluttered around her. “Don’t clench on me that hard baby, feels like you are trying to milk my cock dry…” she chuckled just to curse moments after.
You were drooling on your shoulder as she thrusted inside of you. You were feeling so good…
Ellie started to fuck your brains out of you, hands on your hips as she slightly sat up, bringing you down on her cock with each new thrust. “Ellie, shit, so good…, fuck, daddy, more!” she moaned, the muscles below the skin of his arms flexing as he pushed you harshly down on her dick, making the tip torture that spot that always made you cum in a matter of seconds. “Fuck, I’m gonna— I’m gonna…”
“Hold it.” she ordered, one of her hands leaving your skin to get a hold on the magic wand, turning it on and putting it against your throbbing and swollen clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched. “That’s it. Feels good doesn’t it?” she smirked. You couldn’t speak, dirty moans leaving your lips as you felt your high increase. She could tell by the way you clenched around the silicone and your thighs shook. “Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock. Want to see it drip down your thighs.”
“Shit, Ellie, fuck I’m coming!” you screamed when you felt your climax wash over you, making your body go rigid just to go limp after a couple of seconds.
Ellie continued to fuck you through it, cursing at the tightness of your soaked and swollen cunt. Fuck, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t get enough.
“Ellie, ‘s too— too much, fuck, I’m gonna cum again!” new tears travelled down your cheeks at the constant stimulation, vibrations never stoping overstimulating your clit and dick harshly fucking into you, your nails dug on her back, drawing blood as you gushed all over her cock, squirting so hard you dampened your thighs and the sheets below you. “Ellie, s-stop…” you stuttered. You were crying so hard, unable to stop squirting at her constant fucking, unable to form an actual goddamn sentence, babbling in between sobs.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Ellie couldn’t stop her hips, fucking you so good you swore you were fucking dying. The feeling of the strap stimulating her clit and seeing you fall apart below her was like stepping in heaven, the dirty wet sounds of her cock pounding into you and the splashing of your juices making her lose his mind. “I’m gonna cum, shit!” she moaned when she spilled against the back of the strap and harshly pumping inside your abused walls, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Fuck, baby, so good…” she muttered against your neck as she fucked herself down her climax, hips stopping while she was still buried deep inside of you, putting away the wand as her arms failed to keep her up right, making her fall on top of you.
The two of you tried to pace out your breathing, you moaning when little pecks were given to your neck, chest and shoulder before her lips found yours, tongue entering your mouth in a lazy kiss. You fingers lazed on her locks, pulling and playing with her hair as her teeth slightly bit down on your jaw, and then your neck, and your collarbones, and your chest, and…
You hissed when she pulled out of you, cum dripping and meeting your juices on the sheets as her lips trailed down your stomach.
“Hurts?” she questioned, to what you nodded, making a slow smirk appear on his face. “Want me to kiss it better?” you let out a little gasp when she nibbled on your hip bone, lips extremely close to your heat.
She took the tugging on her hair as a ‘yes’, positioning herself better and raising your legs up on her shoulders as she left open mouth kisses on your inner thighs, little sighs leaving your lips as she neared closed and closer… “Poor baby, fucked so good it’s all sore and swollen now.” You moaned when she finally got lost in between your thighs, humming at the taste of your cum dripping out of your cunt. Your head fell backwards as you gave into the pleasure, into her lips, into her name and fingers.
Into her sick love. Into Ellie Williams.
-
a/n; hope this gets love this time.
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drewsarms · 21 days ago
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𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི Daddy looked so so soooo good today!! All these pictures of Drew has me spiraling!!! I had to write a little something!!
It had been almost 2 weeks since you last seen Drew in person. With all of the press and traveling he was doing it was almost impossible to catch him on a free day. Your neediness had taken over you and it was evidently clear. Sending nudes and teasing little photos to Drew throughout the day saying how much your pussy misses him. How much you missed him. “You better be ready when I see you,” was the message you received from him that had your pussy literally aching.
All it took was for the two of you to be back in the hotel alone after Poguelandia. Drew wasted no time ripping your clothes off and groping you like a perv. Like a man in heat. “God. You looked so fucking sexy today baby. All of this for daddy, huh?” Your half lidded eyes full with seduction and affection looked up at him as you nodded slowly while biting your lip. “Get that ass up on the bed. I’ve been waiting for this since the moment I left.”
He pounded into you like his life depended on it. The headboard repeatedly hit the wall, surely to cause a noise complaint from the people staying next door. Your legs were shaking as your body kept coming undone from how good Drew was drilling his thick cock into you. “That dick that good baby?” He said through a chuckle. Your tears stained your cheeks as you managed to squeak out a “yes daddy” from your swollen, bitten lips. “Fuck me like you missed me. Please Drew! I need it!”
The plapping and wet noise from your squelching pussy filled them room making Drew groan with how good you felt around him, your pussy was sucking him in, completely swallowing his length. You reached back in attempt for him to slow his thrust down but he grabbed your arm as he slapped your ass, hard, making sure to leave a mark. “None of that baby. I told you to be ready when I saw you. Take this fucking dick like a good girl.”
Tags: @nemesyaaa @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @starkeyslove @starkeyisthelastname @venic-bxtch @archiveofvirtue @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafesthroatbaby @rafecameroninterlude @fae-of-prey
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theorphicangel · 8 months ago
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thinking about boxer!miguel eating you out as an apology for not spending enough time with you. training had completely taken over his days, resulting in him leaving early in the mornings and arriving late at night all sweaty and exhausted.
you swore to him that you didn’t mind and that you understood his circumstances, after all it was his dream career but you couldn’t help but feel a little neglected after spending numerous long nights by yourself.
it was surprising to Miguel to find you awake and waiting for him on the couch. he slipped off his shoes, training bag hanging off his shoulders which were exposed from the black tank top he wore.
“why aren’t you asleep?”
you shrug, avoiding his eye contact. you didn’t want to seem too clingy, hesitant on giving an honest answer.
“just missed you mig’, I haven’t seen much of you recently.”
a soft thud hits the floor as he places his training bag down, the realisation of his neglect now hitting him.
ah, you missed him. and who could blame you? he knows all too well that he’s been preoccupied with his training for an upcoming fight in a few months. ever since the announcement he’s been nothing but excited, heading down to the gym each and every day. Miguel almost wants to kick himself for not realising sooner how much he’s neglected you.
there’s only one way to make up for it.
the room suddenly fills up with your sweet moans, fingertips lost in his locks as he dives between your thighs. it feels like forever since the last time Miguel went down on you, immediately his tongue is at your folds with no time to waste.
his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, locking you in place as he laps up your juices. your mouth shapes into an ‘O’, eyes rolling into the back of your head with your other hand digging into his shoulder. he’s still sweaty from his training today but you swear it only makes you lust for him more.
another thing you missed about Miguel is how vocal he is; his grunts and groans from how wet your cunt in mixes flawlessly with your own gasps and whimpers. the sound of him lapping at your cunt is so explicit, “so fuckin’ sweet f’me” he mumbles once he has a chance to come up for a breather but before you know it, he dives in again.
a thumb begins to rub slow circles on your clit, his teeth marking your inner thighs. already you’re so close, the hot tension in your lower stomach is threatening to snap.
and despite being away from you for so long, Miguel still remembers every little thing about your body, how your thighs tense up before you cum, wrapping around him a little tighter which is just the way he likes it.
“you gonna cum for me?” he purrs, circles quickening on your clit. the least you can do is nod your head, words unable to form from your tongue. your moans coax him on, his name leaving your mouth like a prayer as he works away, juices dripping down his chin— for this part he makes sure to look up at you, holding you in place as his brown eyes meet yours.
finally the tension builds up in your lower stomach for another minute or two before violently snapping like a rubber band. you gasp aloud, body shivering and your eyes rolled back.
“good girl, that’s it.” he praises as you continue to roll your hips against his face. Miguel’s own eyes nearly roll back completely at your sweet taste, god, how could he ever neglect such a sweet thing like you? mentally he makes a promise to himself to never leave you alone for this long again, he can’t forgive himself for neglecting you for so long in the first place.
“I think I need to properly show you how much I missed you, hmm cariño?”
part 2 here!
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endless-ineffabilities · 4 months ago
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Chemical Override (bonus chapter 2) - August!
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: this sweet one is set just before they broke it off (or rather, before the reader stomped all over his heart) in part five!
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
August! (... slipped away into a moment in time)
It's a fine morning, albeit lazy, you and Ewan having done nothing but lay in bed and talk and cuddle.
Granted, you did a lot more than talk over the course of the night. And this continued in the morning, with Ewan gently coaxing you out of sleep in need.
He's been insatiable, not that you can blame him. You two are finally together, after months of dancing around each other, your friends in eager anticipation to see how the 'will-they, won't they' dynamic will culminate.
They'll be pleased to know that it all led up to the best date you've had so far, followed by a night of bodies burning for the other, marking their territory in the throes of pent-up desire.
Ewan was sure he would remain the gentleman, merely driving you back to your hotel and calling it a night.
But you had invited him upstairs for a nightcap. Maybe some tea, as the Brits do. Needless to say, the tea was quickly forgotten, along with any reservations he might have about simply having you.
The haze of it hasn't subsided. Clad in nothing but undergarments, your limbs are tangled with his under the sheets as you watch the newly released New York foods video he did with Tom a while back.
"Baby?" you say, running your fingers through his hair as he has his head propped on your thighs. The screen plays on, showing the lads thoroughly enjoying some New York City hotdogs.
"Hmm?" he responds, his voice hinting at how soothed he feels from your touch.
"You're such a baby."
"What?" He twists his neck to shoot you a look of betrayal. Adorable.
"I bet those chips weren't even that spicy," you say, rolling your eyes. "I would have devoured those jalapeño chips."
"They were spicy!" He leans against his forearm, which he quickly positioned on your thigh without thinking, causing your muscle to spasm from the sudden weight.
"Ahhh, Ewan!" you wriggle your legs. "Get off, get off..."
"Shit!" He bolts upright, immediately kneading the flesh with his palm. "Sorry, baby. Here, where does it hurt?"
You sigh audibly. "Oh, you." You narrow your eyes at him playfully, trying to look all tough, but apparently he takes it as a cue to press his lips to yours.
It's warm, a bit sloppy, your breaths stale from wine drank over the course of the night. And you don't mind at all.
He croons in your ear, "How do I make it up to you?"
"It's fine, I was only kind of messing - "
"Come now, darling, anything."
He gazes at you, awaiting an answer. In the background, you hear his voice saying, The Fuegos... I didn't like them, as the video comes to a close.
I saw your eyeballs sort of pop out your head a little bit, Tom says in response.
This is going to be fun, you think, smiling evilly to yourself.
Rising to your knees on the bed, you loudly declare, "Today, my love, you will conquer your fears and eat my favourite spicy food."
"Nooo!" He shakes his head right away, already plotting how to get out of this predicament. "Baby, please make me do anything else. I can't handle my spice!"
"My mind is made up."
"What if I do that thing that made you scream last night? When I buried my tongue insi - '
"Ewan!" Your face reddens, but you carry on. His face will soon have the same reaction, but for different, more savoury reasons. "I mean, I would like that but - "
"Alright, let's go baby, spread your knees - " he nods, desperate to placate you and your challenge, but also eager to get down to business.
You shuffle away when he tries to pry your legs open. " - I said I made up my mind! We're eating spicy food. We gotta eat anyway, I'm starving."
He groans, collapsing back on the bed. He runs his hand tiredly over his face, mulling it over. As if he actually has a choice. He wants to do this for you, seeing as how excited you're getting.
"Get up, ol' sport," you crawl on top of him, perching above his stomach. "We're gonna go get the goods."
"Hmm," he sighs contentedly, one look at you more than enough to quell his worries. For now.
"Okay, darling," he relents, then his eyes flash in mischief. "But before we get out of bed... how about I do that thing anyway?"
There is not a single chance in the seven hells that you could ever say no to that.
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An interesting spread is laid out on the round dining table in your hotel suite.
Your stomach growls in anticipation, while Ewan is stiff as a board as he sits beside you.
"I'm hungry, aren't you?" you nudge him, but he only moans, throwing his head back in his chair.
"What if I'd already eaten? I can skip this?" he tries.
"And what the hell did you eat?"
He smirks, and even though his answer won't save him from what follows, it renders him gleeful all the same. "You," is his reply.
That prompts an eye roll, but you shake your head at him fondly. "What should we start with, baby?"
"Water."
"Come on."
"How about the strawberry milk?"
"Okay, then I'll pick." You clasp your hands, surveying the options. "Let's start with something easy." You settle for the bowl of Flamin Hot Cheetos and place it right in front of him.
You help yourself to a few pieces, before noticing that he hasn't moved a muscle, so you take one and bring it to his lips. "Open up, handsome."
"Mmmm," he tilts his head away on instinct, but he gives in after a second. He makes a face as the snack crunches in his mouth. "Not... bad, I suppose.... Urghhh - " he coughs a little, making you snicker at him between bites.
"That's not spicy at all," you say. "At least, it's nothing compared to what we'll have next."
The chicken wings are an unnatural bright red colour, covered in hot sauce and dotted with flecks of chili. You lean down and take a whiff, your nose scrunching as the strong hint of spice hits your senses.
Your placating smile does nothing to ease Ewan, who only looks like he is regretting his life choices on the spot.
"O-kay, dragonblood. Time to breathe fire," you remark in an attempt to inspire some confidence in him. Didn't he take pride in playing a Targaryen dragonrider? Surely some part of him would want to overcome the big, bad opponent that is known in our world as spicy wings.
"Breathe fire?" he exclaims. "That does not make me feel any better!"
"Do it for Vhagar, my love. Do it for Vhagar."
"I'm doing this for you," he corrects, before gingerly taking the smallest bite of a wing. He waits for the impact, confused when nothing unpleasant occurs.
So he bravely takes another, heartier bite.
Big mistake.
His hand gravitates to the glass of water, and he chugs it down like a lifeline. His once pale face becomes the same hue as the fiery culprit.
"Fffuck, ba...by," he hiccups. "I didn't like that at all."
You have a bite, wincing just a little when it hits your throat. It wasn't too bad, so you tell him to calm down.
He complains anyway, "I think I just saw my life flash right before my eyes."
You chortle at that, which unfortunately makes some of the spice travel up your nose. "Oh god!" You instantly take a huge gulp of milk. "Don't make me laugh!" you say, when the heat dies down.
"See?" he cries out in vindication. "Why must we torture ourselves, darling?"
"The food's tasty," you counter.
"Yeah, but is it worth the price?"
You grip his shoulder, dramatically saying, "We have to keep going, soldier."
"No."
"Yes."
"You won't break up with me if I refuse, will you?"
You pause, making it seem like you are seriously deliberating it. "Maybe."
"What?!" His expression takes on a more real sense of alarm.
"I'm kidding," you giggle, nudging his leg with yours. He leans his head against your shoulder, responding with, "You're mean."
"And you're dating me. What does that say about you?"
He lets out a weary laugh, "That I'm just really in love, I guess."
That almost makes you give up on the challenge entirely. You could just let him eat the pepperoni pizza you have saved as the actual meal. But it wouldn't hurt too much to tackle the grand finale. The final boss. Maybe it will even get his taste buds to crack and cross over to the dark side.
"Baby?" Here goes everything.
"Hmm?"
"It's time for the spicy ramen."
He sighs a true sigh of defeat and acceptance. "If I survive this, you have to swear you're never letting me go."
"That's your bargain? Easy, baby."
His blue eyes bore into yours. His cheeks are still red and he's still sniffling from the spice, but his sentiment holds weight. He shrugs, before his arm reaches out for the bowl of ramen, making it known that he has already accepted his fate.
You slide the glass of milk closer to him.
"Try not to get it on your lips as much as possible," you advise him, growing worried as the ramen pack did warn that it was '2x Spicy'.
You cringe inwardly as a forkful of noodles enters his mouth. He drops his arm, chewing slowly, and finally the food gratefully slides down his throat.
"Mmm," he clears his throat, trying his hardest to remain calm. His forced, blank expression is even more alarming than the alternative.
"Ewan?" He turns his head toward you, slowly. And you see the full extent of the damage. His eyes well with tears, and his breathing is shallow from an even more congested nose.
"I'm okay," he wheezes, trying to maintain a show of boldness for your sake. "I can do this."
"You don't look okay." You shake your head at him, as his face takes on an even deeper shade of red.
A pained grunt escapes him. "Maybe a kiss will make it better."
A cursory glace at the ramen sauce staining his lips compels you to protest without a second thought. "How about no? You've got it all over your lips."
"Darling, who cares? You're going to eat them too!" he says, scandalised.
"But I've got a technique. I don't let it touch my lips so it doesn't burn!" You inch away as he leans in.
"So you won't kiss me?" He uses his baby blues against you, eyes bright and shimmering as he pouts in disappointment.
"You don't need a kiss." He tries to grab you, making you stand from your chair to get away. With your palm outstretched, you implore him, "Baby, just drink your milk."
"Then I get a kiss?"
"Fine. Then you get a kiss."
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Tom calls you a few days later, his tone animated from the moment you pick up. "Would you look at that! I didn't think I would get a hold of you lovers. Thought you'd be busy doing somethin' else, if y'know what I mean."
"It's noon here, Tom," you reply matter-of-factly, stretching your legs out on the bed.
"So? I reckon Captain Big Balls over there has got it in him."
"Wow," you let out an amused exhale. Tom always did have a way about him, being a Manc and all. "Well, he's in the shower right now if you wanted to speak to him."
"I'm surprised you're not in there with him, love! You guys are all over the news, bloody hell. Even out here, everyone's buzzin' about the hot new couple from House of the Dragon. And no, it's not Matt and Fabien."
You smirk at his last remark, "Are you sure it's not Matt and Fabs?"
"Positive," he says. "But we never know what could happen. Anyway, how in the hell did you convince him?"
You rack your brain for what exactly he could be pertaining to. "Convince him to do what?"
"To create a bloody Instagram profile, that's what!"
Your mouth falls open, and you quickly put him on speaker so you can scroll to the aforementioned app. Sure enough, it doesn't take long for you to sift through your new follower notifications before you find him.
His username is on brand - straightforward and no-frills - just ewanmitchell . Already verified with a hundred thousand followers and counting. In his following list, however, there is only one - your profile.
If the papparazzi pictures and tabloid stories and fan encounters hadn't convinced everyone yet, likely this will.
Ewan, notorious not only for his charisma and pure talent, but also for being steadfast in staying off social media, has sent the entirety of Ewan Nation into a tailspin with his profile.
Icing on the cake - he only follows you.
"You see, this is what convinces the public that you two are not PR," Tom says. "Because Ewan would never, ever get on the socials for just anyone."
"I didn't even know he made this. I haven't been online in quite a bit."
"Been busy, huh?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"Doin' a lot of stuff out there?"
"I guess."
"Like Ewan?"
"Tom, I'm going to lynch you when I see you."
He only laughs, having gotten his desired outcome from prodding at you.
The bathroom door slides open, and Ewan steps out with nothing but a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist.
"Who's that?" he mouths at you.
"Tom," you answer loudly, prompting Tom to greet Ewan from the speakerphone.
"Aemond the Fierce!" he bellows, the long-distance call doing nothing to stifle his personality. "I always knew you had it in ya. Ever since you laid eyes on her during the table read, I knew it was only a matter of time."
Well, isn't that a revelation. You had thought it was just you harbouring a crush in the beginning. "The table read, really? I just remember being so nervous," you say.
"I thought you were attractive," Ewan admits, scratching the back of his neck. "And you were reading your lines with such passion that I... "
Tom interrupts, "He ran over to me and told me to show him your social media."
"Not just that, I - "
"He wanted to see whether you had any pictures with a boyfriend or something."
"Alright, alright." Ewan snatches the phone from your hand, as if that will keep Tom from exposing him even more. "How are you, mate?"
"I'm good, lad, and yourself?"
Ewan glances at you, seeing that you've gone back to reading a script, your brow furrowed in concentration.
A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
"I'm great. I'm happy."
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"Over here! Over here!"
"How's your evening going, you guys? How are you enjoying LA?"
The papparazzi needlessly try to make small talk and they flash their cameras in your face. You and Ewan barely have time to grimace at each other once you get inside his car. The restaurant where he took you to dinner hadn't been crawling with paps when you arrived. Someone must have tipped them at some point.
Ewan instinctively reaches for your hand when you've driven some distance away from the restaurant, a breath of relief exiting his lungs.
"That's Hollywood for you, baby," he says amusedly, putting on his best standard American accent.
The car speeds through the streets of LA. Heading to Mount Hollywood, you have the famous Griffith Observatory set as your destination.
You have always wanted to go, and it only took one mention to Ewan before he planned it for your next date.
It doesn't take long before the observatory's iconic structure comes into view. Its white domes seemingly gleam under the night sky, a sentinel watching over the city of Los Angeles.
Stepping out of the car, you take in the scene in awe. The resulting look on your face lets Ewan know he made the right choice in taking you here. He'd take you here everyday if it meant seeing you in a spell of childlike wonder.
The observatory itself is just a bonus.
The outer balcony stretches like a vertice into the vastness of the city, a sea of lights glistening down below. It seemed to sprawl on endlessly, a labyrinth of hopes and pains and dreams.
You stand there, drawn to the view like a moth to a flame. The evening breeze dances through your hair, and your face is aglow from the illuminated city.
Smiling widely, you turn and find Ewan lingering just behind, watching you.
"Come and look at this, my love," you wave him over.
He wants to capture the moment, so he does. He subtly points his camera in your direction. Your profile is partially visible, with your face turned out into the horizon. Your silhouette stands before a mosaic of the shining city.
But it's you that has his attention. You that pulls all of his focus into the frame.
He never thought he would have much use for a public social media profile like the one he created on Instagram, but hours later, as you're sound asleep beside him, he finds purpose for such a thing.
He uploads the first ever photo on his profile - the one he secretly took of you at the observatory.
Too conscious to think of a caption, he doesn't type in any, content to let the photo speak for itself.
Putting his phone away, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and falls into blissful slumber.
Ewan hadn't been aware of the phrase breaking the internet, and he's in for quite the rude awakening.
Even so, he doesn't let it faze him.
You're in shock when you discover the amount of comments under the photo, well past the twelve thousand mark when you wake up. Positive, negative, and everything in between.
Almost unheard of for an Instagram debut.
His reaction?
"At least everyone knows that you're mine now. What's wrong with that?"
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You can vote here on the reader's hotd character name!
Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy (continued in comments)
The sad, angsty bits will be saved for the next proper chapter! What happens to Ewan's Instagram then? What happens to him?? 🥲💔
I was going to include the double date idea, but alas, my ideas ran dry.
I've got nothing but love for all of you that have followed this story to this point! If you've got scene requests, just let me know!
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pedroscurls · 2 months ago
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training partners (pt. 2)
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summary: after your next training session, you join hugh for lunch at his place. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), reader has some description (hair, outfit), sensual and initmate smut (unprotected p in v sex - creampie oops, missionary, cowgirl, marking and biting, light dirty talk) no use of y/n. word count: 8.9k (i got carried away lol) a/n: this is part two to training partners. i needed more lol and i told myself that it would only be a two-parter, but i may or may not continue this with more... (let me know if i should write more parts to this story bc i'm having so much fun writing this!) again, i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman and this is purely fictional (all in my delulu mind). prev part. - next part.
It’s been a week since meeting Hugh and it’s still so surreal that you’re frequently talking to him. Or rather, he’s frequently reaching out to you whether it’s through a text message, a phone call, or FaceTime. You realize just how comfortable you are with him, how you can completely be yourself and not worry about what he thinks, because he just makes you feel like who you are as a person is enough. It’s something you haven’t felt before and there’s a part of you that tries to tell yourself that this isn’t going to be serious. You’re just going to have fun. Hugh isn’t going to want something serious, so don’t set yourself up for disappointment. 
But the more you talk to him, the more you find yourself imagining and daydreaming what it would be like to be in a fully committed relationship with him. You know it’s never going to happen, but a girl can dream, right? 
On today’s workout, you decide to wear a faded black oversized t-shirt and black spandex shorts. You put your hair into two braids and slip your shoes on. Within a few minutes, you hear a knock on your door and you bite your lower lip in anticipation. You’re excited, yet nervous, to see Hugh again. Despite the plenty of FaceTime calls over the last week, it’s just a different feeling seeing him in person. Right in front of you. Within arms reach. 
You swing your door open and look up at Hugh who’s smiling in your direction. He’s dressed in black shorts and a black fitted t-shirt that looks like it’s about to tear at the seams around his biceps. It causes you to bite your lower lip, yearning to reach out to just squeeze and–
“Good morning, love,” Hugh says with a chuckle, breaking you out of your thoughts. 
“Hi, good morning, sorry,” you apologize, looking down at your feet. “You wanna come on in? I’m just grabbing the rest of my things.”
“I’d love to,” Hugh responds. “But can I get a proper greeting?” 
“Oh, so me checking you out isn’t proper?”
Hugh grins. “I’d say it’s far from proper, love.” 
Your eyes narrow and then you step up to him, your arms wrapping around his frame as his long arms wrap around your waist. “Is this proper enough?” you whisper against him.
“Very proper,” he whispers, tightening his hold on you before he pulls away. “We still on for lunch after our workout?” 
You nod, leading him inside of your apartment. “Yeah, but I just realized I’m gonna be all sweaty and in your home and–”
“Pack a change of clothes. You can shower at my place.” 
You shut the door behind him and then walk into your living room with him trailing behind you, trying to bite back the excitement that settles in the pit of your stomach. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“Not imposing at all. I want to spend time with you…” Hugh begins. “In a setting that’s just you and me.” 
“Okay, Hugh.” You say, turning around once he takes your wrist to spin you to face him. He brings you to his chest and uses his free hand to rest onto your hip. He looks so incredibly large in your small apartment and you can’t help but feel the butterflies swarm in the pit of your stomach. Even though he looks so out of place in your apartment, it feels right having him here. With you. 
“But only if you’re okay with it,” he says, releasing his hold on your wrist to rest it on the other side of your hip. 
Slowly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, stepping closer to him until your front is flush against his own. “I’m more than okay with it. I just don’t want you to think that I’m… You know…”
“I don’t,” he shakes his head. “What?” 
“That I only want you because you’re famous and you’re rich.”
“Oh, I thought those were the only two reasons.” He teases. “And because I’m old and you like older men.”
You let out a quiet laugh, gently punching his chest and his hands fall from your hips to wrap his arms instead around your waist. He holds you tightly against him and slowly dips down until his lips are mere inches from yours. “Seriously, Hugh.” 
“I know, love. Listen, I like your company. You make me laugh and it’s a while since I’ve felt this way.” Then, he brings a hand up to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, careful not to mess with your braids. “Whatever way you’ll have me, I’m fine with it.” 
“But I’m just me…” you whisper. 
“And you being you is a breath of fresh air. I like it. I like you.” 
You feel the corners of your lips turn upwards, the heat in your cheeks rising once more and you feel like you can lean in to kiss him. But you don’t. Not yet. You still have a workout to get to. 
“The Hugh Jackman likes me?” You feign a shocking expression, looking up into his eyes. 
Hugh lets out a quiet laugh and leans into bury his face against your neck, his stubble brushing against you and causing you to let out an uncontrollable giggle. “Oh, you’re ticklish, are ya?” He smirks against you, lips brushing against your neck as his stubble continues to tickle your skin.
You squirm against him, trying to pull away from him, but he just tightens his grip on you as your laughter fills your entire apartment. “Hugh!” you exclaim in between giggles, pushing against his hard chest. It’s no use though, he’s just so much stronger, so much bigger, and it isn’t until you lose your footing that he falls on his back on your couch with you on top of him that the laughter begins to die down. You pull back enough to look down at him, his hands gripping your hips as you realize that your legs had subconsciously placed themselves on either side of him. 
You’re literally straddling him and he’s staring at you with lust-filled eyes. Your core is pressed firmly against his lower half and you feel his length stir against you, hardening with each passing second. 
“Hugh…”
Your eyes deviate to his lips, watching him bite his lower lip as his fingertips dig into your hips. “Ya think we’d get in trouble if we miss our workout?” he whispers huskily. “Because I think I really like this view and I don’t wanna get up.”
Your cheeks are hot. You’re sure that he can feel the heat between your legs and you’re afraid to move because you’re sure that if you do, you’d lost all ounce of resolve and want to just pounce him because while he likes the view of you being on top of him, you absolutely love the view of him underneath you. 
“We should get up,” you mumble, though you don’t make any movements to stand up. Instead, Hugh wraps his arms around your waist as he sits up and adjusts himself on your couch until he’s sitting back against it. With each of his movements, your hips move against his, letting out a quiet whimper at the friction. 
“You really want to?” he says, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “Maybe we can…”
“Do our own version of cardio?” you tease, obviously breaking the tension as you both erupt into a fit of laughter. You wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely. “What do you say?” 
“As much as I’d love that,” Hugh chuckles. “I’d wanna take my time with you, love.” 
“Hm, then I guess we’ll have to wait.” 
“Guess so,” he says, though begins to lean in closer to you. “But can I…” Hugh begins to ask, eyes dropping to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Kiss you?”
“Such a gentleman, Hugh Jackman,” you tease. “I thought old men like to be in control and–”
“You’re a little brat,” he growls, leaning in to finally press his lips against yours. You gasp immediately, feeling one of his hands move up to cup your cheek. He wastes no time in moving his lips against your own. It’s like your breath is being taken from you with how aggressive Hugh is, nipping and biting at your lower lip. You can’t control the way you’re feeling, the way your legs want to close shut and your core yearning to squeeze around something. You let out a quiet moan and slowly roll your hips against his own, feeling his entire length press against you once more. 
When Hugh groans against your lips, it lights a fire in you. In a fleeting moment, you want to just devour him and drop to your knees in front of him so that you can hear more of his groans and grunts. You lean further into him, gasping as you feel his fingertips touch your skin. His hands move underneath your shirt and with your gasp, he uses this moment to slide his tongue past your lips. 
Suddenly, you pull away, breathing heavily with his hands still underneath your shirt and your hands gripping his. 
“We’re getting carried away,” you whisper, breathlessly. 
“Hm,” he grins, licking his lower lip. “You’re distracting,” he teases. 
You roll your eyes and slowly climb off his lap, missing the feeling of him between your legs. Your eyes dip lower and notice the slight tent in his shorts, watching as he reaches down to readjust himself. 
“I’m gonna–” you clear your throat. “I’m gonna grab my things and then we should go. Or else we’ll never leave.”
“Wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Hugh grins. “But okay. We should be at the gym soon.” 
As you’re walking away, Hugh stands up and takes your hand once more. He pulls you flush against him, arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he dips down to press gentle and soft kisses along the side of your neck. “I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs against you. 
Your eyes flutter shut, hands moving to rest over his as you lean back against him. “Hugh, now you’re the one who’s distracting.” 
“Fine, okay,” he chuckles, pulling away from you. “I’m going to wait outside because you’re a bit dangerous right now.”
“Me?!” 
“Yes, you,” Hugh laughs. “Because if I stay in your apartment another minute, I’m gonna end up taking you where you stand, love.” 
You let out a shaky breath and then nod your head, waiting for him to turn on his heel to leave your apartment. Once he does and you hear the door shut, you realize you’ve been holding your breath. You bite your lower lip, bringing your fingertips to graze your lips as you think back to the very heated kiss on your couch. Oh, you won’t be looking at that couch the same way again. 
After you grab a change of clothes and put it in your duffle bag, you drape it over your shoulder and grab your phone and keys and leave your apartment. You see Hugh leaning against his car, opening the passenger door for you as he takes the bag from you. 
“Such a gentleman,” you point out. 
Hugh catches you by surprise and leans in to peck your lips. “D’ya like it?” 
“What? You being a gentleman?” 
Hugh nods. 
“I do, but I also like…” you bite your lower lip as you climb into the passenger seat. “I also like it rough.” Without allowing him to respond, you shut the door and smirk to yourself. Hugh is awakening something inside of you, something that you had suppressed for so long and it feels good to finally let loose and be yourself. It’s easy with him. 
You see him then set your bag in the trunk before he shuts it closed and then walks to the driver’s side. He climbs in and looks at you, eyes narrowed as he starts the car and buckles his seatbelt. When Hugh pulls out of your parking lot, he reaches over and rests his hand on your upper thigh, his fingers resting on the inside of your thigh. 
“What are you doing?” you ask, resting a hand over his own.
“Showing dominance,” Hugh winks. 
“Showing dominance?” you laugh quietly. “By putting your hand on my thigh?”
He nods, one hand on the steering wheel as he keeps eyes focused on the road ahead of him. He moves his hand slightly higher. His pinky moves just slightly and you feel it brush against your core, causing a quiet gasp to escape your lips. 
“Hugh!” 
“See? Dominance.” 
“You’re a tease, that’s what you are.”
Hugh then lets out a loud laugh. “Me? The tease? May I remind you what you were doing to me back at your apartment, baby?” 
Love. Baby. All of these terms of endearment are slowly breaking down your resolve. 
“Okay, okay,” you say quietly, biting your lower lip as you feel his pinky move up and down along your core. It causes your eyes to flutter shut, the light touch against you making you yearn for more. You need more. You need him. 
“I don’t know how I’m gonna get through today’s workout,” Hugh begins, stopping at a red light as he turns to look at you. He’s glad his windows are tinted, no one able to tell who he is or what he’s doing right now. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he turns his hand to press firmly against your clothed sex, gently using his middle finger to rub circles against your clit. “Because all I’m gonna be thinking about, baby, are the sounds you’re making and how you’re gonna feel wrapped around me.” 
You let out quiet moans as you grip his wrist, trying to push him away but he remains persistent. His touch against you becomes stronger and he pulls away only because the light turns green. Your eyes narrow in his direction and you realize that you’re almost close to the gym. When he pulls into the parking lot and puts the car in park, you reach over the console and move your hand to rest above his crotch. You hear his breath hitch in his throat as Hugh looks in your direction, biting his lower lip.
“What are you doin’?” 
“What you were doing to me,” you whisper, feeling the length of him underneath the palm of your hand. You then bring your fingertip to run across his length, feeling it begin to harden underneath your touch. “I think it’s only fair.”
His hand darts out to grab your wrist and pull it away from him, eyes narrowing as Hugh leans in. His lips are dangerously close to yours and you stare at him with a mischievous look on your face, biting your lower lip. 
“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growls. 
“You promise?” 
Hugh chuckles and leans in to peck your lips. “Oh, it’s a promise.” 
After another grueling workout session, you’re already drenched in sweat and making your way to Hugh’s car. While you still pushed yourself past your limits during the session, you couldn’t help but be distracted by him. Every chance he could get, he’d make sure to touch you – whether it’s a soft touch on your lower back, a gentle hand on your shoulder. Hugh wanted more of you and he could tell throughout the session that your eyes lingered on him. It excited him to know just what might happen once you both leave to go to his place. 
“You ready?” Hugh asks, motioning towards the door. You nod and walk in front of him, giving him a good view of your backside and legs and he bites his lower lip, his thoughts going back to the moment you shared on your couch. Once outside in the parking lot, Hugh gently takes your bag from you and sets it in his truck. 
“So,” he hears you say once he climbs into the driver’s side. “What will you be making me?” 
“Something healthy,” Hugh grins. “I am on a strict diet for Wolverine.”
“Okay, I can do healthy. What do you have in mind?” 
“You’re so eager,” he chuckles, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to make his way to his home. “Can’t you just be a good girl and wait and see?”
Good girl. Your eyes narrow at him and bite your lower lip. All of the nicknames he’s been given you this last week: Love. Baby. Brat. Good girl. It shoots straight to your core and you look over at him, moving your hand to rest over his forearm that’s resting against the middle console. Two can play that game, you tell yourself. 
“What if…” you whisper, running your fingertips lightly across his forearm. “What if I don’t want to be a good girl?”
That causes Hugh’s head to turn. He stops the car at a red light, knowing that you’re both only about twenty minutes away from his house. His hand grips the steering wheel as he looks down at you, noticing the look in your eyes. “Oh, you know what you’re doing, don’t you, baby?” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to figure out what you’re gonna feed me.”
“Oh, I’ll feed you something, alright,” he smirks, turning his attention back on the road once the light turns green. Hugh moves his hand back to your leg, but he keeps it resting on your thigh. He knows that if he pushes this further, he’d end up pulling over on the side of the road and taking you in this car. 
After twenty minutes, he pulls into his parking garage and notices the look on your face. He can tell that you’re in shock and in awe over his house, and he knows just what you’re about to say so he reaches over to take your hand in his, lifting it to his lips. “Don’t say what you’re about to say, love.” 
“You don’t know what I’m gonna say, Hugh.” 
Hugh chuckles and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “I know you’re gonna make a comment about me being so–”
“Rich,” you finish for him. “You’re rich. I mean, look at your place and–”
Hugh shakes his head and interrupts you by pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was meant to quiet you, but instead, you take the initiative to climb over the console and straddle his lap while he’s seated in the driver’s seat. His hands move to your hips as he moves his lips slowly against your own. 
“Mmm,” you whimper against his lips, rolling your hips slowly. Your hands move to tangle in his hair as you nip and bite at his lower lip. 
Hugh growls against your lips, moving his hands to run up along your thighs and underneath your shirt. God, you make him feel like a teenager all over again because he’s throbbing almost painfully at the way your hips roll against his own. He needs to adjust himself or get some relief because he’s so hard underneath you that he has to pull away from you. 
“Here you are again,” he whispers. “Distracting me,” Hugh continues, pulling his hands away from you to rest gently on your upper thighs. 
“Okay, okay,” you giggle. “Can I shower while you make lunch?” 
“Yeah, let me show you around.” He opens the driver’s side of the door and watches you climb off his lap. Hugh adjusts himself in his shorts and then climbs out after you, walking to the trunk of his car and grabbing both of your bags. 
With his free hand, he takes yours and you can’t help but smile. You turn your hand to lace your fingers with his as he leads you into his home. You look around in awe, the white walls, high ceilings, and floor-to-ceiling windows make you feel incredibly small, but despite the large space that Hugh has brought you in, it feels very homey. Very comfortable. You can’t help but look around, surrounded by the amazing view of the city and the natural light coming into his home. You then quickly release his hand only to remove your shoes and he smiles at you, leaning against the wall near the stairs
“You didn’t have to take your shoes off.” 
“Are you kidding me? Look at this floor! I don’t want to get it dirty.” 
Hugh laughs and then motions towards the stairs to his left. “I can set your things in the guest bedroom and you can shower there. Or…” he says, biting his lower lip as he takes in your frame, making it very obvious that he’s checking you out. You know where his mind wanders and you stand up to rest your hands on his chest, leaning up on your toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips.
“Don’t tell me you’re not gonna show me where the magic happens,” you tease with a quiet giggle. 
“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” he replies. 
“I’m comfortable,” you answer honestly. “With you, it’s easy. I can be myself and that’s saying something.” You don’t want to get too much into detail. This is supposed to just be casual. You don’t need to tell Hugh your life story and how you came to be the way that you are. 
“Oh,” Hugh smiles. His eyes sparkle as he looks into your own and it makes your heart melt. “The feeling is mutual, actually.” He finally says. “Come on. Let’s head up.” 
You follow him up the stairs, but you’re distracted by the amount of pictures and paintings that are hung up along the wall. You want to stop and admire each one, but instead, you keep following him. Once at the top of the stairs, Hugh leads you down the hallway and opens the door. You widen your eyes at the amount of space. It looks so much bigger than your apartment and this is only a bedroom! 
“Jesus,” you whisper under your breath. 
Hugh sets both of your bags down near the bed and watches you with a small smile. You’re walking around his bedroom and he finds that he likes seeing you here. In his home. With him. He watches you walk towards the windows, arms crossing over your chest as he hears you let out a sigh. 
Slowly, Hugh walks towards you and gently wraps his arms around you from behind. He rests his head against you and places a soft kiss on the side of your neck.
“What’s got you sighing, love?” he asks quietly. 
“It’s just an amazing view. I always loved seeing the city and it’s just–” you sigh. “It’s beautiful. You can see everything.”
“You should see the view of the sunset,” Hugh smiles against you. “If you want to stay, I can also make us dinner.” 
Slowly, you turn in his arms and look up at him. You feel his hands move to rest on your lower back as he pulls you flush against him. You still can’t believe you’re here with him, with Hugh Jackman. The way he’s made you feel in just a short amount of time of knowing him does scare you, but you can’t help the pull you feel towards him. 
“What’s next, Hugh? Spend the night?” you tease, bringing your hands up his arms to his shoulders, taking your time to feel the muscles underneath your fingertips. 
“Would that be a bad thing?” he says, dipping his head lower to press a light kiss on your lips. 
“I didn’t pack an overnight bag,” you smile. 
“Who says you’re gonna need the clothes?” Hugh winks, moving his hand down to grasp your backside with a firm grip. It causes you to gasp and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against his neck. 
“You’re a tease.” 
Hugh chuckles and pulls away to look down at you. “If you’re comfortable with it, I’d love it if you’d stay. At least for dinner.”
You bite your lower lip and stare up at him. You try to remind yourself that you deserve this, that you deserve something good, that you deserve him. “As long as you’re not tired of me yet, I’d love to stay.” 
“I could never,” he says with a big grin. “Okay, I’ll let you shower. I’m gonna shower in the other bathroom. Come downstairs whenever you’re done.” 
“Thank you, Hugh.” You say seriously, bringing your hand up to his cheek. You feel the stubble against your fingertips as your eyes scan his features. He leans into your touch and slowly turns his head to press a kiss into your palm. 
“It’s my pleasure, baby. I’ll see you in a bit.” Hugh places a kiss on your forehead, pulling away slowly as he looks at you with a broad smile. Then, he walks into his closet and leaves you in the bedroom as you walk over to grab your bag. You then walk inside the bathroom and shut the door behind you. If his bedroom surprised you, his bathroom was a different story. 
This doesn’t feel real. How can someone like you be here with someone like him? You wonder if this is his way of just having fun. Your trainer mentioned he was single and you assumed he was married. You would be lying if you said you never searched him on Google, but the last time you checked, he was a married man for over twenty years. Maybe this was just his way of getting back out there and that this wasn’t going to be anything serious. 
You try to tell yourself to enjoy the ride, even if it may not last long. 
“I deserve this,” you whisper to yourself. “I’m enough.” You continue to say this over and over again, trying to revert the negative thoughts that begin to creep in your mind with the negative self-talk. 
After thirty minutes, you step out of his bathroom dressed in casual loungewear. You didn’t know what to bring, so you opted for comfortability. You’re wearing black knit pants with a black crop top. It’s a matching lounge set and when you begin to make your way downstairs, you can hear quiet music playing in the kitchen. You’re walking barefoot, the cold tile of the floor causing your feet to wiggle at the coolness. 
When you round the corner, you see Hugh setting the table in the corner. His windows capture your attention because everywhere you look, it’s a clear view of the city. His hair is slightly damp and he’s also barefoot, dressed in a fitted black t-shirt and gray joggers. He looks so normal like this, so domesticated and unlike the persona he presents to the media. You feel lucky to get even a glimpse of this side of him. 
“Hey,” you call out, seeing him turn around to face you. He grins in your direction, his eyes taking in your frame. 
“Hey,” he replies. “You look comfy.” 
“I am comfy,” you smile, walking towards him. “It smells good.”
“Ah,” Hugh chuckles. “It’s just eggs, toast, and avocado. Strict diet,” he points out again. 
“Well, good thing I like all of those things. Thank you for making me lunch.” You’re about to sit down before Hugh pulls you into his arms. He cups your cheek with one hand while his other wraps his arm around your waist. 
“Thank you for having lunch with me.” Hugh says softly. “I really…” he sighs quietly. “I’m really enjoying the time we’re spending with each other.” 
“Me too, Hugh,” you smile, leaning against his touch. “Come on, let’s eat.” 
Hugh nods and pecks your lips and pulls away slowly. He rests his forehead against yours as he exhales a quiet breath. There’s an unspoken feeling that lingers in the air between the both of you and Hugh can’t deny it. He knows there’s an age gap, knows that his lifestyle might be completely different than what you’re used to, but he knows that he wants more of this. He wants more moments with you. 
“What?” you ask quietly. 
“Nothing, baby. Let’s eat.” Hugh then pulls away to pull out your chair. He watches you take a seat and then he moves to sit next to you, arm draping over the back of your chair. He sees you look up to stare at the view and he smiles to himself, leaning in to kiss your temple. 
Throughout lunch, you feel more and more comfortable. Your legs are curled underneath the chair as you lean against his side, resting your head against his shoulder. You can’t help but notice how much you laugh when you’re with him and how much you love seeing his smile and hearing his laugh. 
He pays close attention to you and it makes you feel seen and heard and unlike anything you’ve felt before. Even though you aren’t in a relationship with Hugh, it makes you daydream and imagine just exactly what it would be like. You know that you can get used to this, spending more and more time with him like this. In his home. In yours. You realize that you want him more permanently in your life, in whatever way that may be. 
“Okay, okay,” you say, looking up at him after you both finish eating. “What was your first impression of me?” 
Hugh arches a brow. “Honestly?” 
“Yeah, honestly.” 
Hugh turns to face you and tilts his head to the side. “Well, for one, you were on all fours so I couldn’t help but take a peek.” 
You feign a gasp and gently push against his chest. “Naughty, Hugh!” 
Hugh chuckles and shakes his head. “But I liked your honesty. I liked that you were just… You. Genuinely you. You don’t see that very often, especially not around me.”
“Oh, right. Big celebrity and all,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully. 
Hugh smiles. “Seriously. Some people just get close to you because they want something out of it. It’s hard to tell if someone is being genuine or not, but with you…” he says, beginning to trail off with a shake of his head. “I know we joke around a lot, calling me the Hugh Jackman, how famous I am, but I just feel like you see me for me. Not as the Hugh Jackman,” he chuckles. “Your honesty was refreshing. It’s like I mentioned before. You’re a breath of fresh air, baby.” 
You bite your lower lip as you listen to him talk. You feel your stomach do flips and you lean in to press a soft kiss on his lips. His hand drops to your hip as he rubs circles against you, feeling your skin against the pad of his thumb as your shirt rides up when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. 
“I feel comfortable around you,” you reply. “Like I can truly be myself and I haven’t had that in a very long time. I feel like I’m becoming myself again.” 
Hugh smiles, slowly pulling you onto his lap. You lean back against the table as your arms remain loosely around his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips. 
“Did something–” Hugh begins. “Happen? I remember our trainer mentioning something about negative self-talk last week…” 
You bite your lower lip. You weren’t planning on ever telling him your past relationship because you didn’t feel like you needed to. This wasn’t going to be serious… Right? 
“I just got out of a three year relationship a few months ago. I gave a lot of myself into that relationship and never got anything in return. I just–” you sigh, looking away from him. “It’s embarrassing. I just let myself go.”
Hugh sighs and hooks a finger under your chin to get you to look at him. His eyes search yours, staring deeply into you. “It’s not embarrassing. It just shows that you have a lot of love to give and he took that for granted.” 
Your eyes soften as you look at him. You never did think of it that way and you didn’t realize just how much you needed to hear that. There’s a silence that engulfs the both of you and you feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, pent up emotions threatening to spill out. 
“Oh,” he whispers, his own eyes widening slightly. “I didn’t– Baby, are you okay?” Hugh says softly, gently cupping your cheek. 
You don’t respond. Instead, you just lean in to press your lips firmly against his warm and soft lips. You feel the warmth bloom in your chest, butterflies in the pit of your stomach, and for once in a very long time, you feel whole. Not because of Hugh, but because of the words he said. 
He was right.
You did have a lot of love to give. 
“Mm, wait, wait,” Hugh says, pulling away to look at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Yes,” you say, almost breathlessly. “Take me to your room?” 
His eyes slightly widen, brows raising. “Oh.” Hugh says. “Oh. Yeah, come on.” He stands from his chair and takes your hand in his, helping you to stand from your own seat. You take his hand eagerly, using your free hand to hold onto his forearm as well as you allow him to lead you back up the stairs and into his room. 
You can feel the thrumming in your chest, the anticipation looming in the pit of your stomach, and you’re certainly aware of the throbbing you feel in between your legs. Hugh brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of your hand before he leads you down the hall and into his room. Once inside, he shuts the door behind him and turns around to face you. 
You can see the look in his eyes. It’s filled with lust and desire, turning to a darker shade. The backs of your legs touch his mattress and he walks towards you, arms reaching out to rest on your hips as he leans down to capture your lips softly. 
“Been thinking about this, about you,” he whispers against your lips. “I don’t normally do this,” Hugh begins, pulling away to look into your eyes. 
“Do what? Have casual sex?” you tease, moving your hands up his arms and giving his biceps a gentle squeeze. 
“I wouldn’t call this casual,” Hugh points out. “At least I don’t want it to be,” he admits. “Is that okay?” 
“You know, this is a conversation people usually have after having sex.” You smile, hands moving further up his biceps to his shoulders and to the nape of his neck where you tangle your fingers in his dark hair. “But I also don’t want this to be casual either…” you whisper quietly. “And I also don’t normally do this too.” 
Hugh smiles. You can see his eyes sparkle with excitement as he snakes his arms around your frame. “We’re just stepping out of our comfort zones, aren’t we?” 
“Nothing wrong with that,” you reply, slowly sitting on the bed and pulling him on top of you. He uses one hand to rest above your head while the other remains around your waist and gently moves the both of you in the middle of the bed. It’s so large and you’re sure that it has to be an extra large king sized bed or something, because even he looks small on it. 
Slowly, Hugh moves to settle himself between your legs and smiles to himself when he looks down to see you wrap your legs around his waist. He places both of hands at either side of your head to keep himself propped up as he looks down at you, hair splayed against his white sheets, staring up at him with doe-like eyes, twinkling against the natural light that comes through his large windows. 
He says your name quietly, leaning down slowly as his lips hover against yours. “I fear if we do this, there’s no going back.” 
You nod in agreement and move your hands from the nape of his neck to cup his cheeks. “I’m okay with it. Are you?” 
Hugh nods, turning his head to kiss the inside of your palm again. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I’m okay with it,” he repeats. 
“Good because I’ve been wanting you since this morning and I think I’ve been a real good girl waiting so patiently for this,” you tease with a grin. 
“A good girl, huh?” Hugh grins, his eyes darkening once more. “I wonder what good girls get.” 
“A reward. Good girls get a reward.”
“Yeah, they do,” Hugh then leans in to press his lips against yours. He wastes no time in moving his lips, hands dropping to your hips. Hugh can’t help the feeling that weighs on his chest and the flutters in the pit of his stomach. He was open to dating and getting back out there after his divorce, but he didn’t think that it would happen anytime soon. He enjoys your company, enjoys the fact that you make him laugh, enjoys the way you look at him and the way you make him feel. 
You move your hands to his hair, tangling your fingers in his dark locks as he deepens the kiss even further. You part your lips, letting out a quiet gasp when you feel his tongue slide into your mouth. You buck your hips against him, feeling him press himself firmly against your core. He grunts against your lips and it reverberates in his chest, causing it to come out as a quiet growl.
Hugh moves his hands underneath your shirt, letting his hands move upwards along your sides until he realizes that you weren’t wearing a bra. He feels the center of his sweatpants get increasingly tighter and uncomfortable the more he kisses you paired with the movements of your hips. 
“You’re tellin’ me,” he mumbles, pulling back slightly to nip at your lower lip and move his lips along your jawline. “That the entire time we were eating and laughing downstairs that you weren’t wearing a bra?” Hugh’s large hands come up to cover both of your breasts underneath your shirt as he pushes his hips into you. He drags his tongue along the side of your neck, your moans and whimpers directly in his ear. 
“I told you I was comfy,” you moan, feeling the pads of his thumbs brush against your nipples. “Hugh…” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the sensations of his hands, his lips, and his hardened length pressing against you becomes too much. It’s everything all at once and you try to tell yourself to take your time, to let him set the pace, but you just want to roll him over on his back and ride him like your entire life depended on it. 
“I know, baby,” he whispers, gently biting down the side of your neck and sucking on it afterwards. Hugh pulls back to look at the mark slowly appearing and he grins to himself. He isn’t usually the type of person to leave any marks, but for some reason, it excites him to know that you’ll be walking around the next few days with a reminder of today. And it’s all because of him. 
Hugh leans back on his knees and grabs the ends of your shirt to lift over your head. You raise your arms above to allow him to remove your shirt and once he does, he tosses it carelessly over his shoulder as he sees your chest fully exposed for him. 
“Fuck,” he groans. Like a man possessed, Hugh leans down and grasps your breasts in both hands. He growls to himself and leans down to wrap his lips around one nipple, feeling it harden between his lips as he sucks. He uses his other hand to caress your unattended breast and you immediately arch your back in the air, pushing your breasts further into his face. 
“Hugh,” you moan, biting your lower lip as you feel the wetness begin to build between your legs. You need some friction, you need some pressure because you’re throbbing and squeezing around nothing yet you can feel his hardened manhood right where you need him. “I need to feel you, please…” 
Hugh looks up at you and then turns his attention to the other breast, gently nipping so that he can pay equal attention to them. A few moments pass before he pulls back to lift his own shirt over his head. 
You let out a quiet gasp, looking up at him. You’ve seen pictures of him and you know that his physique isn’t something that he hides, but seeing it up close, within arms reach, it does something to you. You reach out and run your fingertips along his abdomen to his chest and back down. A blush appears along your neck and up to your cheeks as you gently tug on the waistband of his sweatpants.
“God, you are beautiful,” you blurt out. You stare into his eyes and you both let out a quiet chuckle. 
“Me?” he says, taking your hands and kissing your knuckles before he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants. Slowly, Hugh pulls your pants and your panties off your body, once more tossing the clothing across the room. You’re lying back, completely naked and exposed for him. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he finally says. Normally, you’d be very self-conscious about how you look, especially naked in front of Hugh Jackman, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel comfortable and confident. He’s truly looking at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen before. 
Then, Hugh drags his hand down the front of your chest, down to your abdomen, until it hovers between your legs. He gently parts your legs even further, giving him a clear view of your folds that glisten against the natural light. Hugh then lets his index finger run across your slit, groaning to himself when he feels your wetness coat him. He looks up at you briefly, seeing your eyes fall shut as your hands reach out to grasp the sheets. 
He smirks proudly to himself and leans over you, peppering kisses along your neck and chest and back up as he slowly slides his finger past your folds and into your hole. Hugh groans against you, feeling just how tight you feel around one finger and it excites him to know just how good it’d feel when he finally pushes his cock into you. To relieve some pressure, he uses his free hand to push down his pants and boxers, letting out a groan of relief as his cock finally springs free from its confines. 
You don’t open your eyes though, still too focused on the way his finger slowly moves in and out of your depths. You’re so wet, so warm, so tight that Hugh tries to take it slow. He then adds another finger, watching as your eyes slightly open at the second intrusion. You feel your walls stretch at his second finger and you finally look down, eyes widening even further at the sight of his length. He’s red at the tip, leaking, and throbbing. It makes your mouth water at the sight because all you want to do is drop down onto your knees and take him into your mouth. Maybe next time, you tell yourself. 
His fingers begin to move at a faster pace, the sounds of squelching echoing throughout his large bedroom. Hugh rests his forehead against yours, turning his hand so that he can rub your clit with the pad of his thumb. He knows you’re close, knows that your body is going to give way to him. He can feel you begin to tremble and he smiles. 
“You’re so wet,” he whispers against your lips. “I can feel you’re close, baby. Don’t hold back. Let go for me.” His voice is much deeper and you can’t help but nod in his direction, your arms reaching out to wrap around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as your back arches in the air. 
“Hugh!” His name escapes your lips with a loud moan, feeling your body shake as you try to ride out your climax. He doesn’t let up though, still continuing to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace. He watches you, watches as you shut your eyes tight, mouth slightly agape, back arched as you tighten around his fingers – it’s something that Hugh will forever remember. He can feel your walls throbbing and he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, looking down at your slickness and slowly bringing it to his lips. Then, he sucks. 
Your eyes open to watch him. He’s staring at you as he licks his fingers clean of your release and it’s so dirty, so hot, that you grab his shoulders and push him onto his back. He kicks off his pants and boxers as his cock rests against his lower abdomen, throbbing painfully and impatiently. 
“You taste fuckin’ good, baby.” Hugh smirks. “Can’t wait to eat you up later.” 
You bite your lower lip and slowly straddle his lap as your eyes move across his face and down to the rest of his body. He’s so chiseled, so muscular. Your eyes deviate further down, seeing the patch of hair between his legs and then his cock. You bring your hand to your mouth and quietly spit into the pit of your palm before reaching down to slowly wrap your hand around his base, feeling the weight and warmth of it in your hand. Then, you tighten your grip and begin to pump your hand up and down. His eyes flutter at the sensation, continuous groans escaping his lips. 
He says your name in a quiet moan as you continue to move your hand along his base. Your movements begin to speed up before Hugh’s hand darts out to grab your wrist, making you cease movements altogether. 
“You keep that up and I’m not gonna last long,” Hugh admits. 
You narrow your eyes and use your thumb to run across the tip of his cock, his precum spreading over it as you hear him let out another moan. You smile to yourself and bring your thumb to your mouth, seeing it slick with his precum before you lean in and suck, your tongue darting out to wipe it from your thumb.
“Mm, you taste good too. I also can’t wait to get down on my knees and just devour you, Hugh.” That earns you a growl as he gently lifts you so that he can grab his cock in his hand to line his tip between your folds. 
“You’re naughty,” he smirks. “I like it.” Hugh moves his free hand to your hip and slowly lowers you down onto him. The tip of his cock enters you and he tries so hard not to just ram up into you because he wants more, needs more. He feels your hands rest on his chest and he flexes subconsciously as you slowly begin to lower yourself further onto his cock. Inch by inch, you feel an almost painful stretch of his cock because you know that you’re tight and you know for sure that you haven’t had anyone as big as Hugh. 
“Fuck,” he grunts, moving his hands onto your hips as you continue to lower yourself onto him until he fills you to the hilt. You’re so tight and warm and wet around him that Hugh just knows he isn’t going to last long. 
You take a moment to get used to his girth and his length. In this position, you feel him so deep within your depths. You’re so full of him and you find that you can just stay here for the rest of your days. Hugh’s eyes begin to flutter shut as you roll your hips forwards and backwards, your hands still resting on his chest. The hair at his base provides the perfect friction against your clit and you feel the tightness in the pit of your stomach begin to grow more and more prominent. 
“Hugh, oh god,” you moan aloud, continuing your movements before you begin to bounce along his length. 
Hugh growls, hands gripping your hips as his fingertips dig into your skin. He knows that’s going to leave a mark later, but he can’t help the sensation. Your walls are gripping him in a tight vice as you move along him, your walls sliding along his cock. 
“You feel amazing,” he begins, lifting his hips slowly to meet yours. Hugh groans, holding you up just slightly to give himself room to begin to thrust upwards into you. Hugh’s thrusts quicken as he watches your breasts bounce with each movement. You toss your head back as you reach back to rest your hands on his thighs and Hugh’s gaze drops down as he watches himself move in and out of your depths. He can see his cock is slick with your wetness, allowing for him to move easily within your folds. 
“Oh god, oh god,” you moan, beginning to lose your resolve. You lean forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, your chest flushed against his, face buried against the side of his neck as Hugh’s thrusts become more erratic, more rough and the sound of skin slapping against one another echoes loudly through his room. 
“Come for me, love,” he whispers into your ear. “I know you can gimme another.” 
It was all you needed to slam yourself down onto him, shaking against him as your walls tighten even further around him. Hugh has to stop himself from thrusting because he knows that if he were to continue, he’d lose it too and he wants to be on top when he does. 
You’re both breathing heavily when Hugh slowly rolls you onto your back. He leans down to peck your lips lightly, hands moving to brush your hair away from your face. Then, Hugh moves his hips against you. He pulls back to his tip before he slams himself back into you. 
“Eyes on me, baby,” he whispers, seeing as your eyes begin to flutter shut. You’re already so sensitive and you don’t know if you can last any longer, but staring deeply into Hugh’s eyes as his thrusts continue forces you to hold out. You know that if you reach another orgasm that you’d be spent for the rest of the day and you’re sure Hugh knows it too. 
“Hugh,” you moan, legs wrapped loosely around his hips as he continues to thrust into you. “You feel…” your arms wrap around his shoulders as nails dig into his skin. “You feel so good.”
Hugh smirks at that and gently kisses the tip of your nose as hands drop to your hips to hold you steady against the bed. “You feel so good too, baby.” Then, Hugh feels the tightness in the pit of his stomach and he knows he’s close. His thrusts become more sloppy and his mouth is slightly agape as both of your moans mix in with one another. 
“I’m close,” he mumbles. “Where–” 
“Inside,” you reassure him. “On the pill.” 
“Are you– Fuck,” Hugh growls. “Are you sure?” 
“Come in me, Hugh.” You answer, letting out a loud moan as his thrusts continue to get more rough. He reaches down and rubs his thumb against your clit. Suddenly, you’re so very aware that you’re about to reach yet another orgasm and Hugh’s eyes stare into yours. This is your first time having sex with him and yet, it seems like he already knows so much about what gets you there. 
“Oh, Hugh… Hugh!” you exclaim, back arching as your eyes shut and your walls tighten once more around his length. 
Hugh groans and thrusts once more before he releases himself inside of you. He buries his face against the side of your neck, lazily nipping at your skin as you throb around him. Hugh then looks up at you and smiles, seeing you return one of your own. 
“I’m spent,” you chuckle. 
Hugh lets out a quiet laugh and pecks your lips lightly. “Three times, huh?” 
“Three times. That’s a first.” 
Hugh grins proudly. “That was amazing, love.” Slowly, he pulls out of you and you both let out a quiet whimper. When he pulls out of you completely, you suddenly feel less whole, less filled. He lies back next to you and pulls you into his arms, noticing the mark along your neck and the marks of his fingertips on your hips. 
“I think I made a few marks and bruises,” Hugh says. 
You arch a brow and then slowly begin to smile. You point to his shoulders and his back as you lean up to peck his lips. “I think I did too.” 
Hugh lets out a quiet laugh and shuts his eyes, feeling you snuggle further into his side. He can get used to this. He feels like you belong here with him. 
“So,” he begins. “Stay the night?” 
You look up at him and smile, leaning up on your elbow to kiss his chin. You see his eyes open to look down at you, staring at you with soft eyes. “Oh, after that? I’m definitely staying the night.”
---
taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1 - @wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf - @needz1nk
934 notes · View notes
margotw10bis · 8 months ago
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Welcome Back.JJK [m]
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bestfriend!Jungkook x female Reader
Genre: drabble; smut (basically just porn)
Words: 3.6k
Synopsis: After almost two years of military service, you finally meet your best friend again. While you have planned a cosy night, his plans are a little bit on the physical side.
Warnings: oral sex (f. receiving); dom!jk/sub!reader; unprotected sex; rough sex; praising kink; big dick jk; hair pulling; spanking; crying of how good sex is; choking
Part 2
18 months.
You've waited 18 months to see him again. You diligently mark each day on your calendar, waiting for him. The few weekends he was allowed in the civil life weren't enough to do everything you wanted and honestly, he was so tired that most of the time he just ate and slept.
But today it's different. Because Jungkook is finally free from service. You finally have your best friend back.
You've planned everything for your encounter: cake, embarrassing sign saying 'I CAN TAKE MY BUNNY HOME' and a whole night of snacks, games and movies, just like you used to do before Jungkook got into the army.
You're not the only one waiting for a loved one. A small group of friends and family have gathered in front of the military base, waiting for the soldiers to get off duty for good.
You are clearly feeling impatient, bouncing on one foot to the other. When some squeaks are heard from the crowd, you try to get a visual on the men coming outside by standing on your tiptoes but it's in vain. The only thing you see is a bunch of shaved heads...
It's only when some reunions decide to step aside that you finally see him. And gosh, you are so happy that you could fly. A big fat smile paints your face and Jungkook mimics you when he notices you and your sign.
He looks a little bit tired but he looks good anyway. The months he has spent in the army got him buffer — even though he was already a gym rat — and his military uniform just increases that. His hair is definitely short but he clearly let it grow a little. Honestly, he looks like a kiwi. A cute kiwi.
And his bunny smile is just the same: sweet and feeling like home.
When Jungkook walks to you and hugs you tight, you can't help but shed a tear.
"I missed you so much" You whisper, tightening your arms around his neck — you don't care if you're strangling him at this point
"Missed you too" He whispers back
"And..." You say as you are scooting away to grab the box you left on the ground "I got you a cake!"
Your excitement peaks through your voice, making Jungkook chuckles.
-----
It really feels like old times.
Jungkook's apartment hasn't changed at all. Well, you've been there a few times just to make sure that there wasn't any leaks from the upper flat, or to open the windows to change the air. But you missed it with Jungkook inside. It's like the whole place takes his energy.
As Jungkook takes care of his bag in his room, you settle everything you have prepared on his coffee table: cake and games. Several times a week, you were spending evenings together and you really want to find back this atmosphere.
You happily clap in your hands when your best friend appears in the living room. You light up the candles on the cake and start singing — not so good but you don't care — 'Welcome back, Kookie'.
Jungkook blows the candles and sits next to you on the couch. He has changed his clothes, opting for a style you know very well: baggy black t-shirt and oversized black sweatpants. He must feel good to finally dress as he wants.
"So" You start, already excited about this night "I have UNO, Monopoly, Cluedo but we can also play something on your Switch or we can watch a movie. I heard that the new one with Ryan Gosling is very n—"
"Y/N" Jungkook stops you
You can see he is a little embarrassed at the way he scratches his neck.
"Yes? Tell me" You encourage him, your usual sweet smile on your lips
"I don't want to be rude or anything, because it's super sweet what you've done but..." Your best friend chews on his lower lip — he used to chew his lip rings but they're gone "It's just that... I haven't done it for almost two years and I was expected to, you know, do it tonight"
Jungkook has a light blush on his cheeks that indicates that he is not as relaxed as his manspreading on the couch lets think.
But you're a little confused. You don't understand what he is trying to say.
"You don't want to play the games?" You try and Jungkook shakes his head lightly but doesn't dare to look at you "And you want to 'do it'? You mean going live on Twitch?"
Jungkook growls in frustration. It's so weird to talk about that with you. You're his best friend, it's not really the kind of conservations you two have.
"No!" He whines "God, Y/N, I want to fuck!"
You're speechless. And blushed. Because gosh, you never talk about that and you're also embarrassed not to have thought about it. You totally get that Jungkook wants to... blow off some steam.
You just didn't realize that he might have called one of the numerous girls that were crushing on him before he went to the army and asked her to join him tonight.
"Oh" You manage to say "I—" You clear your throat "I'll get going then. You can call me tomorrow or whenever"
You quickly stand up and try to hide the redness of your face. But Jungkook grabs your hand and pulls you down. You clumsily land on his lap, setting your knees on both sides of his hips last second to avoid hurting him.
Your heart stops at the intimate position. Never in a billion years you could have imagined being like this with your best friend. Your breathing stops too as you get to see Jungkook's face so close, maybe for the first time in your four years of friendship. He is handsome, always has been, so you don't know where to look: his eyes — not in their usual doe shape but way more intense —, his cute bubble nose or his lips. Yeah, your eyes definitely settle on them, especially when he slyly licks them and coats them with a thin and shiny layer of saliva.
You gulp and don't really know what to do. Yet, it seems very easy for Jungkook because his big and warm hands caress your waist, sending shivers down your spine.
"Let me fuck you. Please"
You don't know if he is begging or ordering because his voice is so hoarse. It's really, really hard to resist. And maybe his hot breathe caressing your face makes you a little high because you nod.
You fucking nod at your best friend asking if he can fuck you.
Worse, you feel aroused by the idea if you consider how your pussy is getting wet.
In just one second, Jungkook's lips are on yours. The kiss is not sweet at all, it's rough and urging. You're never witnessed this side of Jungkook and you already can tell that he loves being in control. He always has been the nice and caring friend but right now, he is like a starved man. His inked hand settles at the back of your neck, preventing you from escaping but you have absolutely no willing to do so.
His mouth literally owns yours, pressing his lips so hard that your teeth clink but it's not like you really care — this awesome kiss fogs your brain with horniness. He slides his tongue between your lips and you hum at his velvet muscle against yours.
His hands tightens their grip, bringing you closer to him. Your boobs are pressed against his torso and there is no another place for your arms but around his neck. His short hair tickles your fingers but it feels so soft at the same time. Too bad the kiss completely occupies your brain that you can't appreciate the sensation in your fingertips.
As Jungkook abandons your swollen lips for your neck, his hands are traveling down to rest on your hips as they urge you to grind on his hardening cock. You roll your hips, pressing your core against his crotch and gosh, it feels good. You are so, so glad you've chosen leggings today because you can feel his bulge. You press harder and harder against it, trying to satisfy the need of friction your throbbing clit demands. You are so, so wet that it's embarrassing.
You can't help a sweet moan from escaping your lip and it seems to make Jungkook crazy. He lifts up your body to make you lay on your back and grabs the hem of your leggings, tugging on them and your panties at the same time. You're surprised that he doesn't slide your clothes all the way down but stops mid-thighs, just enough to get a full view of your cunt, already glistening with arousal.
You don't even have time to grow embarrassed at the idea of your best friend looking at your pussy because Jungkook is in a rush.
"Pretty" He whispers with a hot smirk right before he dives into it
His hands strongly maintain your legs up against your chest while his tongue rolls around your clit. It feels so fucking good that you can't think straight. Maybe that's why you can't have enough sense to mutter your loud moans.
Jungkook changes his pattern by taking a big fat lap from your entrance, gathering on his tongue your arousal that was starting to drop through your hole. Your head rolls back and your hips buckle up just to feel more of him.
"Taste fucking sweet" He praises and you don't know why you feel so proud of it
The wet sounds of his mouth on your cunt are sinful and at this point, you don't know if your pussy is covered by your arousal or Jungkook's spit but you don't care. It's even hotter than he is eating you out so messily. The sloppy sounds are scandalous but it arouses so much that you feel like going crazy.
When he harshly sucks on your sensitive bud, you gasp and shut your eyes close. Your hands desperately try to hold on something but there is nothing to help you down the path of this pleasure.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god" You keep moaning
You're close, you know it. Your pussy keeps clenching around nothing and Jungkook's tongue doesn't slow down. His hands grips the flesh of your thighs harder, surely marking you with bruises, so you don't escape from the unbearable pleasure. And then, Jungkook decides to bring you straight to Heaven when his wet muscle enters you as deep as possible, making his nose bump into your clit. Your restrained legs due to your leggings and his grip only add to your arousal. You've never felt so overwhelmed by pleasure before but here you are: being eaten out by your best friend.
"Kookie, wait, I'm gonna— I'm gonna—" But you never finish your sentence
You scream something that sounds like his name as your legs shake in his grip and you cum on your best friend's face. Your walls clench around his vicious tongue that happily gathers your arousal pouring from your hole. You even feel him smirking against your cunt while he takes a final lap.
"Sweet juicy pussy" He says, making your blush "You're cute when you cum on my tongue, baby"
You don't really have time to catch your breathe because Jungkook grabs your waist and tosses you around so you're on your knees. He makes sure to bring your ass up, landing a harsh spank on your flesh. The stinging pain brings tears to your eyes but wetness to your pussy.
You rest your head on your couch, obediently waiting for Jungkook to pursue his needs.
"You're so fucking cute like that, your pussy full on display for me only, right?" He praises and claims you and doesn't miss how you clench
You both didn't know you had a praising kink but Jungkook will sure use it.
"You're gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you dumb, aren't you?"
You can feel the heat on your cheeks and you grow impatient to feel him inside you. Jungkook's hot, that's a fact. And the way he is acting right now makes you know that you won't be disappointed in his sex skills — not really surprising since Jungkook is good at everything.
You nod to answer, afraid to moan rather than to form words but it doesn't satisfy Jungkook. Another spank, way rougher than the first one, lands on your asscheek, making your jolt. A red mark in the shape of his palm instantly appears on your plump skin in the hottest way possible for your best friend. A sob leaves your mouth but you don't have time to realize it because Jungkook's tattooed hand goes up to gently caress your cheek, swiping away the tears.
"Talk when I ask you to"
His tone is quite severe and you're surprised how sexy you find it. You're never witnessed the dominant side of your best friend before, since you always saw him as a cute bunny.
"Yes" You reply, so politely, so innocently while your ass is up for your fucking best friend
"Good girl"
You hear some rustling of clothes, a sign that Jungkook is getting rid off of his shirt and slides down his sweatpants and briefs mid-thighs too.
You turn your head just enough to watch him pumping his absolutely huge cock. Your eyes widen as you wonder if you'll be able to take him. You haven't had a lot of partners but they surely can't compare with Jungkook's size.
The slight fear on your face is delightful for your best friend. He can see your pussy is tight and he can't wait to stretch your hole like it deserves to be. Honestly, he didn't plan to fuck you tonight. He thought he was going to text a random girl but after all, you're his best friend and you're the one who has planned a welcoming party.
Grabbing his thick dick at its base, Jungkook pats your sensitive clit with his tip. You jolt but moan, instinctively pushing your hips towards him. Some sticky links connect your pussy and his member in the most sinful way. Jungkook teases you again, rubbing his angry tip against your clit just to hear you groan his name.
However, he knows he won't last long and he has waited too long for a teasing game.
His free hand roughly grabs your asscheek, spreading it so he can fully see your beautiful cunt clenching. He lets a blob of spit slide along your puckered hole and down your pussy so he can penetrate you easily — actually, you are wet enough for that but your best friend just likes it messy.
He brings his cock to your entrance and pushes in. The tip is enough to stretch you out so much that the air is kicked out of your lungs. Your mouth opens, unable to make any sound, and your hand desperately grabs his forearm.
"You're so big" You gasp, another tear rolling down your cheek
It doesn't help that you're in this position: you can feel him better like this, aware of every since inch inside you.
"Too much?" Jungkook asks, genuinely worried
Despite how horny he is, he doesn't want to hurt you. If you tell him right now to stop, he'll do. Even though the way your walls throb are so fucking good, and he has just put the tip.
"No, it's okay. Just—" You take a deep breathe "Just wait a sec" You say
Jungkook nods and draws some soothing circles on your asscheek. And it works: he can feel you relaxing which allows him to slide more inches of his cock into your tight cunt.
You won't lie: the stretch is almost unbearable but the sensation of being so full makes you high. Way beyond clouds. You're feeling completely euphoric of your best friend's dick inside you.
"Fuck, you fill me up so good" You can't help but confess
"You're such a good girl, baby, taking me all" He smirks, rewarded you with a nice spank on your already red ass
When all his length is swallowed by your dripping cunt, you feel him deep, deep inside. You need a minute to get used to his size but it's damn hard for Jungkook to stay still when he has been waiting for so long and when you poor dripping cunt squeezes him so tightly. He can't control how his dick twitches, making you moan and clench tighter.
Your best friend attempts a faint dick stroke, earning a gasp or a moan from you, he can't define but the bliss on your face is unmistakable. This spurs him to pull out more, until just his tip is caged between your walls, and to slam back inside completely.
"Fuck, Kookie" You moan
"You like that, uh?" You nod frenetically, especially when Jungkook provides a rough cock stroke "Who knew you were such a good slut"
You don't quite know what to respond when Jungkook fucks you so good that your brain can't work. You just moan loudly, not caring one bit about Mrs. Kim, his 83 year-old neighbor.
The strength of Jungkook's poundings makes you jolt and if he wasn't holding you tight by digging his nails into the flesh of your ass, you'd be completely resting on your stomach by now. Even though his grip will surely bruise you, you absolutely don't give a fuck, not when you have such a good dick inside you.
"Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby" He hisses when you clench around him
You're not sure you'll last long. And maybe your body is not connected to your head anymore because it only seems to seek for your release. You start to bounce back on Jungkook's cock, slapping your ass against his lap each time.
Your best friend watches in awe how naughty you become despite your usual innocence and he just wants to see your fucked up face more. For that, he grabs a good amount of your hair and tugs on it. Your back is so fucking arched that it feels like you're going to break in two but you don't care. The only thing you can feel is this good cock in you.
"Kookie, I'm so close" You whine
Jungkook might have the same goal as you: making you cum, because he wraps his other arm around your chest and lifts up against his torso. He makes sure to have a strong hold on you and forcefully provides you his amazing dick strokes.
The new angle is the perfect one, his cock hitting your sweet spot repeatedily and you have no other choice than to gasp. You've never been fucked this good and you don't even know how to breathe correctly anymore.
Jungkook's growls of pleasure as he buries his face in the crook of your neck and the sound of your skins clapping fog your brain. You grab his tattooed hand and place it around your throat. Jungkook gets the message and chokes you.
"You're such a naughty girl" He teases you, bitting your skin as he gives you powerful poundings "I'm sure that you like being fucked dumb, right baby?"
"Yes!" You scream despite your blocked throat
You're high on sex and low on oxygen: the perfect mix to bring you on cloud nine. It's like Jungkook already knows all the things you love about sex. But he is your best friend, he knows everything else so why not that? And if he is so good with you, then you don't mind sharing all your secrets with him.
"You're gonna come for me?"
You nod at that but almost bend over when Jungkook's vicious fingers find your clit despise your tied legs. He is circling it so fast that your legs shiver. Thankfully, his large palm around your air column prevents you from escaping his delightful treatment.
"Fuck, Kookie" You sob, shaking in his hold
"Cum for me, cum on my cock" He urges you "I know that you're a good girl and good girls cum when they are told to do so"
The specific knot builds inside you, and you don't know what you are saying anymore. You are not even aware of your tears on your cheeks and the drool at the edge of your mouth anymore. Your toes curl and you dig your nails in his forearms when you reach your high. White dots paint your vision, even though your eyes are closed.
You might be screaming Jungkook's name but you're not sure. You are just too far gone.
You fall miserably on your couch, trying your best to keep your ass up because your best friend hasn't stopped nor slowed down one bit. He has pushed you all the way through your orgasm and even beyond, so much that it's almost barely impossible for you to take him anymore. His dick is just too big, stretching your walls that are begging to clench.
"Please, Kookie" You beg, tears of overstimulation appearing on your face "Come now, I can't— I can't anymore"
"I'm almost there, hold on for me" Jungkook reassures you, his voice a little softer
He knows that you are taking more than you can right now: the way your body shakes is a clear sign. He is close too and a last slap on your abused ass helps him.
He pulls out suddenly, leaving your hole gaping and stupidly empty, and pumps his soaked with your juices cock to cum on your ass. The contrast between your red asscheeks and his thick white seeds is perfect. Jungkook pants while he looks at his masterpiece, a satisfied smirked on his lips.
Exhausted, you fall on his couch, almost falling asleep right after.
"You're okay?" He worries
"Uhm, uhm" You nod
"It's the best welcome party ever" He brightly smiles at your tired face and you can't help but give his smile back "Thank you so much, Y/N"
Part 2
931 notes · View notes
lovifie · 10 months ago
Text
Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 2: Captain’s Dinner
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
Warning/Notes: Captain Price x Reader (on this chapter only, the poly 141 is still building), Oral sex (F receiver), a bit nasty
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The rest of the drive goes by in a breath, suspiciously, Simon didn't step on any more bumps, and it felt like being rocking a baby. Kyle got his hand inside your shirt, but as nasty as your acts before, now his hand was just innocently caressing your back, keeping you calm and pliant against him.
At some point, the car stops and you hear Simon talk with someone outside of the car.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
The car moves again but for short this time. And just after a minute or two, the car stops and Simon turns off the engine. Everyone begins to exit the car, Kyle included with you in his arms. You notice people walking around, not too close but enough to see you, and you start to feel self-aware of the fact that you are being carried like a baby by the Sergeant.
“Can you put me down? I want to walk.” You say squirming a bit in the Sergeant’s arms.
“It's faster this way actually, doll.” He responds giving you a quick smile.
“At least put me on your back, it feels weird not seeing where we going.” You say turning your head around as much as you can.
Kyle snickers, making you turn to him with your eyebrows furrowed. “Doll, I actually would be really glad if you let me carry you like this the rest of the way because like this I can hide the fact that I came on my pants like a teenager.”
“Oh.” That's all you managed to say as you feel your cheek blushing. You can definitely feel your panties sticking to your pussy, but he must definitely feel his underwear hardening.
“Soap, Ghost, we will tomorrow at 0700 for a debriefing of today's events. Go rest now. Kyle, come into my office so we can find the key and free our little birdie.” Price orders behind you, relief flowing through your veins at the thought of being free.
Kyle enters the room, Price’s office by logic, and sits you on a desk. And once you are seated, he raises his arm and crouches down getting out of the weird knot of limbs.
He stands before you, free, as you look at him dumbfounded, still cuffed.
“H-how… You could do that?!” You ask looking at him. “I thought you didn't fit, that's why you haven't got out! You could do that?!”
Kyle simply chuckles at you while he adjusts his pants quickly and drops a peck on your forehead whispering against your skin. “Sorry, luv. But it was just too comfortable.” He turns to Price, announcing he is going to take a shower and leaves the room sending you a wink right before closing the door.
You turn to Price, looking a bit shocked still and he picks the key from the drawer at his desk. “Sorry about him, he is a good lad. Hope you were not uncomfortable, right?” He asks as he walks up to you, you put your hands together expecting him to unlock the cuffs, but instead, his hands travel to the back of your tights and he picks you up forcing you to put your hands around his shoulder (almost strangling him for a second before you remember to move your hands above his head)
You let him be, too tired already to fight anymore, and he sits you on the other side of the desk. In front of his chair, once you are seated, he sits on his chair and gets between your legs.
The sight in front of you shouldn't be allowed, broad shoulders making you physically spread your legs to accommodate him, blue eyes looking up at you and warm hands picking yours. “Let's take these off, yeah?”
“Yes, please.” You whisper back, not even sure what you are begging for.
Price takes the cuffs back, furrowing when he sees the red mark where the metal dented into your soft skin. He caresses both wrists drawing circles and then one of them goes higher on your arm up to the bandages. “How's the pain?” He asks looking at your arm.
“Hm? Oh, that… honestly, I always thought bullet wounds would hurt a lot more. It's not too bad, I almost had forgotten about it.” You say smiling back at him.
He chuckles back shaking his head. “I'm definitely having you give a pep talk to the rookies. Sorry about your blouse, as well. I'll pay for a new one.” He says caressing your arm.
“Oh, there is no need, really. This is an old one, I should have thrown it out a bit ago anyway.” You admit shaking your hands to let him know there is no need.
“I insist. And if you get any medical bills, or need any physiotherapy sessions or anything. We will pay for them, we'll take care of you, doll.” He says standing up to his full height still between your legs.
“You keep saying that…”
“What do you mean?”
“That you will take care of me.”
“Yes. We will if you allow us.”
You look at his face, trying to decipher what he means. But the intensity of his gaze pulls the air out of your lungs leaving you breathless, the heat from his body is scorching against you and the ground seems so far away you feel like you falling off a cliff.
“Are you okay, doll?” He asks softly looking to meet your gaze again cupping your face.
“Yeah.” You say softly pulling his hand away and you put a hand on his chest pushing him back. “I-I should get going, I have work in the morning it's better if I get back home.”
“You can stay the night if you want, I'll drive you to work tomorrow.” He quickly responds like he doesn't want you to go.
“Capt- John.” You correct yourself earning a smile from him. “John, I need to shower, and I don't have any clean clothes, really you have done more than enough for me, I will just go home.”
You stay looking at him, waiting for him to move back so you can hop off the desk and get out. But he doesn't, instead, he gets closer and moves both hands to cup your face making you look at him. “You are thinking too hard, doll.”
And then, as natural as it is to blink, he kisses you.
A soft peck right on the corner of your mouth to test the waters, a soft peck on the other side, and then, softly, almost like melting at the touch, a kiss right to the centre of your lips.
He moves slightly back, enough to be able to speak and ask. “You solid?”
And you nod.
You are not even a hundred per cent sure you know what he means, but you know that whatever the man in front of you would ask, you would say yes.
You shouldn't, you don't know him. You only know his name and his position as Captain. You know your mind is not clear, right now he is your saviour, he is been taking care of you since you met, and he is so strong, so gentle with you, so handsome.
You shouldn't be leaning in for another kiss, but you are.
There is always tomorrow for regrets.
But tonight, all your senses scream John Price.
Never did you though a kiss could get you so hot and bothered, he only has his hands on your face and his lips on yours and you are already panting.
He moves forward, hips crashing onto yours making you gasp and he uses the opportunity to get his tongue on your mouth.
You can taste the tobacco on his tongue, swimming down your body. His hands move, taking your hair back into a ponytail and he pulls back. It stings and you groan softly, shifting to a moan when you feel his lips down your throat.
His moustache tickles the soft skin of your neck in contrast with the scorching feeling of his breath. “Who beat me to it?” He asks, chuckling drily looking at something on your neck.
Fucking Kyle.
“Better to erase it, doll.” He says, possessiveness taking over him. And there are no more soft kisses, now he makes out, no, he devours your neck like a madman. Sucking and biting, feeling the mark erupt and your panties to grow wetter.
You bite your lip to try and not make an embarrassment of yourself from how badly you want to moan, and you take his shirt out of his pants. Running your hands under the shirt, needing to feel him.
“I hope you don't mind, sweetheart. Since it is already ruined…” He trails off as he grabs your shirt over your chest and pulls, hard, pulling the buttons of the fabric and ripping it where it didn't give in.
He almost growls when he sees the skin giggle and he dives right into your chest. His hands rest on your waist pulling you forward him, pulling your shirt out of your pants.
You try to take off your jacket, but the sudden movement causes a sharp pain in your arm making you groan in pain. Price quickly detaches himself from your skin to look at your face, alarmed he hurted you. “Sorry, you alright love?” He asks feeling guilty. You shake your head, only worrying him more and then you add. “It's not you, the jacket. Got stuck on the bandages or something; can you help me, please?” He smirks mischievously at you. “Help you to undress? Oh, darling, that's my pleasure.”
He kisses you on your lips again, taking off your jacket carefully and then your shirt. He pulls your bra strap down your shoulder, leaving your bra downside, your boobs out and pushes up. He cups one of your boobs groaning on your mouth when you moan softly and then bends down to get the other one inside his mouth.
He twirls his tongue around your nipple, savouring the taste of your skin. You move your hand to the back of his head, and when he gets lower, right under your boob over your ribs, and he bites you as you pull his hair moaning his name. “John…”
“Yeah, darling, moan my name like that.” He mumbles against your skin before he goes back to your mouth. “You taste like fucking candy, sweetheart. Can't fucking wait to taste all of your.”
“Do it. Do it, please.” You say against his mouth, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“Aw, darling, what a fucking sight. Asking so nicely, how can I say no?” He says between kisses as he undoes your pants.
He lifts your ass from the desk with an arm as he pulls down your pants and your underwear all together. He leaves you again on the desk and undoes the clasp of your bra taking it off. Leaving you completely bare on his desk, while he remains completely dressed. The vest is even still on.
“Fuck… I must have been a fucking saint on my last life to be worth it of this sight, angel.” He says looking up and down your body as he moves his hands from your waist up to your face to give you a kiss. “I'm gonna make you feel good, love. So, so good…” he trails off as he begins to give kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbones, sternum, tummy, and just when he is about to reach your mount. He pulls back making you whine. “Shh, pretty, just getting comfy.”
He grabs the chair from before sitting down, gets closer between your legs and pulls them over his shoulder forcing you to lean on your back using the elbow that is not hurt to prop yourself up enough to see him.
He kisses the inside of your tights, from your knee and higher, higher, higher… you can feel his beard on that soaking part of you where you need him the most. But he doesn't indulge you, instead, he goes back to your knee and high again. Teasing you, leaving you panting, aching, clenching around anything, needy, desperate.
“John… please… no more teasing…” you beg, feeling desperate for him.
“Poor baby, already soaking.” He says looking directly at your cunt, and you feel as he presses a thumb on your clit making you shudder at the feeling and he slowly moves it down your slit, reaching your dripping hole and pressing it, but without getting it inside. Just collecting your juices and driving you mad.
He takes the thumb up to his lips licking it while he looks at your eyes. “Just as I thought, fucking candy, love.” You want to complain, to grab his hair and shove his face against your cunt but the only thing that leaves your lips is a bratty whine, too horny to think straight.
You feel Price chuckle against your skin, and when you finally feel ready to tell him off, he presses his tongue flat against your clit turning your brain to absolute mush as you let go of a moan worth of a porn video as you let your head fall back.
He moves his head up and down, letting his tongue move between your folds; collecting your arousal mixing it with his spit making a mess on his beard.
His index finger moves to your entrance, slowly getting it inside stretching you slightly because of the size of his hands. He sucks at your clit, almost making out with it. And once he feels satisfied with it, he gets a second finger inside.
You keep moaning his name, like a mantra almost, not being able to remain quiet when he begins to thrust his finger in and out of your wet cunt. The sounds, the squelch, the sight, delightful.
You have been given head before, but never like this. It never had you begin for them to keep going, to not let you hanging, never this desperate. But John Price, it has you wishing you could kiss the terrorist of your neighbour just for putting you in his line of vision.
He curls his fingers inside of you pressing a point that has you falling on your back hitting your head load enough for him to chuckle against your cunt, but before he can lift his head to check on you, you just get your hand on his head keeping him in place.
Caressing his hair, spreading your legs even wider, he eats you out like a man starved. Like he hasn't eaten in days like he just found a water fountain in the middle of the desert.
You realise then, that the reason why you have never felt like this before with any ex-lover, is because you have never felt this desired. You can feel Price moaning against your cunt, and it makes you wonder who is enjoying it more.
Not for long though, because you begin to feel the knot on your stomach get tighter. More and more tight, you feel your toes curl and you close your eyes letting your mouth open as you feel the knot coming undone like an elevator free-falling. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips that in any other situation would make you feel embarrassed and your tights clasp around Price’s head when he doesn't relent on his attack.
He helps you ride out your orgasm as you cover your face with your hands, the light in the room is suddenly too bright, and after a couple of seconds, you look up at him.
And the sight…
He is sitting, leaning back against the chair, manspreading wide, an elbow resting on the armrest as he lazily licks clean the fingers that were just inside of you. Absolutely content with himself and his accomplishments, a sight absolutely devilishly delicious.
You notice the tent on his pants, and you try to touch him with your feet. But he grabs your ankle, and you don't have enough energy on you to push it.
“As much as I would like to keep going, doll.” He says letting your leg down and coming up closer to your face. “You can barely keep your eyes open, so I think it's time to rest.”
He stands up, goes somewhere behind you that you guess is the bathroom because of the sound of water and a bit later, he is back. He picks you up, and lays down on a sofa, with you on top.
A bathroom and a sofa inside of his personal office, he really is a military captain. He covers the both of you with a blanket, he gives you a kiss to the forehead and before you know it, you are out.
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Post-nut clarity doesn't hit until a couple of hours later.
You are naked, in an unknown man's office, far away from home, with no phone, no keys, no money, no clothes, ashamed.
So you do the only thing you can do, you slip away from the sleeping handsome man, get dressed as fast as you can without making any noise and leave the room. You don't even bother to put on your blouse, choosing to just close your jacket.
Once outside, you let a sigh escape your lips. You know the military base, it is actually not that far away from your home, less than an hour walking back.
Are you excited about walking back home at the break of dawn alone? No. Do you have another choice? Not really, not any that would help reduce the walk of shame you found yourself doing.
So you get your hands on your pockets and start doing your half a marathon back home.
And just as the sun is beginning to pick over the horizon, you reach your home.
Just last night there were dozens of police cars, military workers, everything, the whole paraphernalia. But now? It is just dead silence, no a soul in sight, as if nothing has ever happened.
The janitor calls your name when he sees you, he gives you your keys and tells you that the police dropped them by when they cleaned everything.
You wait for the elevator and make your way up to your floor. On apartment 608, there is a police notice, banning everyone from getting close to the crime scene. There are bullet holes and some bloody handprints on the walls, a blood splutters a bit too close to the height your arm is.
You shake your head trying to forget about it, and open your door. Once inside, you lock the door and look for your phone. Only to remember that it must be in your bag, in your car, where you dropped it when you tried to run.
You look at the clock on the wall that you always forget about, and realise you have 20 minutes to get ready if you want to make it time to work. So get at it.
Most of those 20 minutes, go into taking a shower. You feel dirty, mainly because you are, but also because you feel used. You think about Price and Kyle, handsome military men, they have probably visited countries you don't even know exist and they probably have a lover in each of them.
You are probably just another one, and you let them in so easily. They must have barely felt any satisfaction from such an easy catch.
You feel like crying for being so silly, but a voice in your head stops you. The voice in your head that picks you up whenever you fuck something up. Don't cry! Why would you cry?! They used you just as much as you used them! And they are not crying! So neither are you! You made a grown man cum on his pants by rubbing yourself a bit and an even grown-er man basically get on his knees to eat you out! So don't cry!
So you get out of the shower with another attitude, you are going to get a hold of the situation, you are going to get space between these men and yourself, and you are going to be just fine!
“Son of a bitch!” You exclaim when you see yourself in the mirror, if you had thrown yourself down the stairs there would be fewer bruises on your body. Well, not bruises, hickeys.
You huff getting out of the bathroom to get dressed, and then back to the bathroom to cover all the hickeys.
By divine grace, you make on time for work. You are exhausted, starving and if any of your coworkers spoke to you today just a bit out of tone, you would chew their arms off. But luckily, everything goes right.
At least, until you get back home, and the first thing you see when you get off the elevator, is a masked man standing in front of your door.
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I guess it is a series now, I don't know where I'm going with it but there is still a couple of things I have thoughts about.
If you guys have any ideas or scenarios please, tell me hehe
And if you want me to tag you on the next part drop a coment 💗
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marcsburnerphone · 10 months ago
Text
And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: some awkward moments but nothing crazy.
part 1 - Part two!!! - part 3 - part 4
—————-
You indeed did not see John price the next morning but what you did see was a handwritten note stuck to the fridge beneath a magnet.
“Good morning, as I mentioned my job is demanding. I’m not sure how long I'll be gone for but I can estimate at least a month. If you need me, my phone number is below along with my check for this month's rent and the next. - John price”
You reach for the envelope that is attached behind the note and pull it open and what the fuck. You knew he had to have money but in what world would someone pay this much rent for a house with a roommate? You immediately grab your own checkbook and write him for the amount that’s overpaid, making a mental note to make sure you give it to him.
————
Weeks pass slowly and life goes on as it did before. The only difference is you're no longer struggling to make ends meet. So to celebrate your success you order that 6 foot canvas you’d been wanting for ages and a new oil paint.
When you got the notification that it had arrived, thank god for two day shipping, you squealed and ran to grab it before the mailman even walked away. He offered to help you as he watched you give it a bear hug and waddle it through your door yelling out a meek ‘no Thankyou’. You dragged it down the hallway and into the sunroom resting it up against the wall. Ripping the clear plastic film off of new canvases comes in third place to the best things in life.
Sitting in the sun that evening you stroke deep blue oil paints that try their best to replicate ocean waters, and white specks that wish they could induce the same feelings stars do.
You’ve been at this same painting for 3 weeks, coming home and straight to it. Now that it’s finally done it sits sunbathing till it dries. You still visit it and admire its larger than life beauty.
John’s been gone for 1 month and 3 weeks now and in that time some problems have arisen, 1. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and below it the pipe also leaks and the only plumber that’s willing to drive out to your house and inspect it says he won’t be available for another week which means the water bill will sky rocketing till then. And 2. you have no idea where the huge painting will go.
You walk around wondering where to place it. You thought maybe the living room, or even in your room but after testing both those places it still didn’t look right. You can only think of one other place which is the hallway to John’s room. Of course that spot is perfect, maybe he wouldn’t notice since he only spent one night here. You grabbed the drill and got to work mounting it immediately. Once all was said and done you gave it a once over, smiled, snapped a picture of it to send to your sister and walked away.
———
John arrived back exactly at the two month mark early in the AM. He opened the house door as quietly as possible and removed his boots by the door to avoid the creaking wood of the floor and continued sluggishly hauling his bag to his room. Being the man he is, he notices everything, those watchful eyes of his never miss a detail so he does indeed notice and take a second to admire the newly found painting hung in front of his bedroom door before unlocking it to set his stuff down.
After a much needed and appreciated shower he reads the clock at 7AM thinking he can sleep for a little, that is of course until he hears a knock at the door. Making his way down the hall he peeps through the window and sees a handyman?
“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” He says opening the door.
“Good morning, your wife called for a leaking pipe, told her I’d come by sometime today.” He looks down the hall towards your room and confirms the fact that you're definitely still very well asleep.
“My wife? Oh yes my wife, that lady I could’ve sworn I told her to cancel this appointment we actually got it all sorted out.” He lies like it's second nature.
“I actually charge a late cancellation fee that must be paid upfront.” He inquires slightly annoyed.
“How much?” John replies feeling sorry for this man that drove out here and is now being sent away.
“100$ flat.” John shuts the door and quickly fetches his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and returns with two bills one for the inconvenience and sends the man on his way.
Sleep can wait.
—————
You wake up to the sound of clanking in the kitchen and as a woman that technically lives alone in the middle of the forest you're terrified.
Grabbing the bat beside your bed still fully dressed in the least threatening attire, you tiptoe to the source of the noise and breathe out the strongest sigh of relief ever known to man.
“Jesus Christ John you scared me, what’re you doing?” You loudly admit startling him in return.
“Fixing this pipe that you called an overpriced handyman for.” You stare at him subconsciously admiring the way he looks, slightly disheveled, face screwed in concentration and strong hands twisting the wrench in his hand and let’s not mention the rise of his shirt.
“You okay?” He says removing himself from under the sink leaning back on his knees to stare up at you.
“Yeah, yes I’m so sorry, um so where did the handy man go?” He stands with a grunt and leans his back against the counter.
“On his merry way.” He replies, turning around to turn the faucet on checking if it leaks, then off to see if it still drips and as he expects, it does neither.
“How much do I owe you for the late cancellation fee?” That man has handled your plumbing issues before and you’ve definitely canceled late more than once.
“Technically you didn’t cancel on him, I did so don’t worry.” He says picking his tools up off the ground placing them messily into the tool box.
“Well Thank You.” You say awkwardly.
“Of course.” He smiles making the dimples beneath his beard awfully noticeable.
“Oh and by the way your rent is only two thousand five hundred a month.” You say walking to the kitchen drawer beside him and pulling out a check that’s already filled out and handing it to him.
“Utilities included?” He asks, grabbing the check written out for three thousand and also taking in notice that same scent that clung to those sheets you made his bed with weeks ago as you sweep by.
“Yeah I don’t mind paying more cause I mean look around, this place has my style written all over it which makes it feel more like mine than yours.” He looks baffled at your reasoning.
“I actually like the decorations, not sure I’d change a thing about it.” You laugh at what has to be a lie.
“I doubt it.” You chuckle and slightly blush at his kindness.
“No I'm serious, I especially love that painting in the hallway, where’d you get it?” You seem surprised at the mention of it and even more flattered at the compliment.
“I actually painted it.” He gives you a surprised look.
“See you’re even hand painting the art, please I can afford much more than twenty five hundred.” You act like you're considering it for a moment.
“As much as I’d appreciate it, I'm already grateful for what you pay.” You say truthfully.
“Also, welcome home.” You quip before turning around walking back towards your room to get ready for the day
—————
John’s been home for nearly two weeks now and he’s slightly growing on you and you on him. You co-exist in harmony most times. That doesn’t mean the two of you still don’t clash from time to time.
“Good morning.” He says scrambling eggs in a pan as you walk into the kitchen reaching in the cabinet for a coffee mug.
“Morning to you too.” You say groggily, setting your feet flat on the ground and placing the cup on the counter, reaching for the pot to pour some coffee.
“If I can just- oh I’m so sorry.” He says accidentally bumping into you making the coffee spill on the counter.
“Oh no don’t worry about it, I can just clean it.” You say turning around quickly to go grab paper towels and end up accidentally running into his chest.
He grabs your shoulders to hold you in place and let your brain catch up with the speed of events.
“We will learn to both be in the kitchen together someday.” You affirm with a laugh that makes you feel alive.
“Hey the first week this happened almost everyday. If anything this is a huge improvement.” He jokingly abides.
“True.” You say as he turns around handing you the kitchen towel to clean it up. He watches you with amused eyes and a smile that still hasn’t left either of your faces and for a second something alights in John something that scares him so bad he doesn’t hear a thing you’re saying.
“John, I said did you sleep well?” You speak a bit louder, snapping him out of it.
“Yeah darling sorry I’m just going to take this to my office. I've got some work to cover.” He says hurriedly plating his food and scurrying off.
“Okay well I’ll be heading to work soon.” He doesn’t even let you finish before closing the door leaving you to stand there a little stumped.
“So I’ll assume he didn’t sleep well.” You say to yourself before pouring another cup and heading to your room to get changed.
——————
Comments and reposts are appreciated <3
@beebeechaos
@ttsbaby01
@arminarlertssword
@quakeroaksguy
@waves-against-a-cliff
@depressed-but-make-it-cute
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autumnalmoons · 1 year ago
Text
Your late-night company (nsfw, mdni, +18 only)
It's smut bc I'm a horny bitch (lovingly), and because I want him to split me in half--I know he can, like c'mon
Viktor x fem!Reader | 2.1K
Notes: PWP, Established relationship, set kinda between act 1 and act 2, Vaginal Fingering, Innapropiate use of Viktor's cane (sorryyyy), Dom!Viktor if you squint, Cockwarming, Nipple play, English isn't my native language so lemme know if i messed up somewhere :)
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Ever since he could hear the echo of your heels reverberate around the lab like a second heartbeat, Viktor knew you were onto something—and such rhythm makes his heart pick up speed too, though Viktor’s faster than each one of your carefree strides against the dark marble floor.
You go, smooching his cheek and surely leaving a pink mark on your lipstick. Not that he minds, of course, he's used to leaving his loving marks on you, too, and even now, he can see the now purplish hickey down your collarbone that you’ve been trying to veil with a silk scarf.
“What brings you here, my darling?” Viktor hums, unconsciously seeking your lips. Is that pink lipstick the one that tastes like cherry? He’s a man of science, he’s ought to investigate.
“Nothing much. I came to bring you home,” you say, hugging his slender frame from behind, your chin hooked in the crook of his shoulder, just over his back brace. “I miss my Vitya so, so much…”
Viktor shivers, trying to ground himself in the domestic, seemingly innocent gesture of a kiss over your temple. "I miss you, too, my jewel. Alas, Progress Day is in a couple of weeks, and we need to have everything ready in case a mishap happens.” He sighs, thick brows furrowing in focus. “As usually does.”
You nod. Of course, you understand that his work is a priority, but you also have a good memory; of those two past days when you went to sleep alone. There are those familiar purple bags under his eyes, only darker.
“Hmm, alright,” you say, massaging his scalp for a bit before wandering around the lab. “Then allow me to make you company. This place is filthy, handsome.”
“Chaos potentiates creativity.”
Your chuckle reverberates around the lab, which causes Viktor to lift his chin a little higher, how easily he can make you happy.
He turns back toward his desk, hearing you going toward the closet supply to get a feathery duster, mumbling a song under your breath as you hop around cleaning surfaces and wiping down machinery with a piece of cloth.
It's only a matter of time before your plan starts, and you have calculated it just as perfectly as Viktor's equations; using your knowledge of the man next to you, his existence is the most amazing creation you've seen—much to Viktor's attempts to surpass it with his machines.
You dust off the drawer next to his desk, ‘accidentally’ knocking off one of the pens tossed over the wooden surface, further down against the wall. "Oops!" you say in your best role of an actress, which isn't that good, only for him to look your way.
The floor is cold as you brush it with your fingers, a fine layer of dust and carbon covering it. One of the windows must be open because you can feel the cold autumn wind brushing under your mischievously short skirt, one of Viktor's favorites, right against your already wet folds that the underwear you chose today isn't meant to cover.
You want him to see. Swaying your hips playfully the moment you feel his gaze burn your back.
Over the purring of the machines, you hear his air leave in a sharp inhale.
Between not wearing panties at all, you choose ones made of black lace and cute, little black ribbons decorating the most… enticing areas. The cloth down your pussy was too small, and you had to choose or covering your clit, or covering your core—which of course, you choose the eager bundle of nerves, so Viktor could see you all wet and glistening for him.
Smiling, you push the pen further down his desk, a soft—very inappropriate—groan escaping your lips, copying my memory of one of the sounds you made every time his cock presses that special spot inside of you.
“I liked that pen a lot,” Viktor mutters, though you can hear the smirk in his voice.
By now, you have no idea where that damned pen had gone. “I’m sure I can make it up for you about that,” you say, knees bending slightly, so your pussy can open a little. Only if he ever tries to play the oblivious.
A chair squeaked, and it’s impossible not to start imagining Viktor’s lithe fingers caressing the curve of your ass. Instead, you got the cold metal of his cane’s handle.
“Ah!” He chuckled at hearing your surprised gasp.
“Is that disappointment I hear, my jewel? Or just cold?” He hums, dragging the handle along the folds of your pussy until it brushes your entrance, only the tip. “You’re all dressed up for me. And I wonder… why is that, hmm?” he says, the tip of the cane playing between your folds. “Is it because you’d like to ‘keep me company’?”
“I never told you how I planned to accompany you," You mutter, feeling your legs starting to shake as the cold metal meets your boiling core, thinking that you were about to melt.
“Use your words, darling. If you’re so eager.”
There is a certain edge to his words, the hoarse tone around his R replacing the usual soft tone he uses to whisper to you when you two aren’t in the privacy of your bedroom.
“I… I thought you may need… um…” you say, voice lost with each playful movement of his cane in and out your entrance; barely some inches in, but moving it just right thanks to the exhaustive research Viktor had conducted ever since he caught you with that vibrator. Little by little, your arousal warms the metal, and you wonder if Viktor can feel it, too. “Relaxing.”
“Relaxing? My, I’d say this is rather… distracting,” he chuckles, the wheels of his stool coming closer as you hold your hands against your burning thighs. “A pleasant one, of course, but still a distraction.”
“Oh? Then do I deserve a punishment?” You try your best to quip, though your voice quivers mid-sentence.
There’s barely a heartbeat of silence, and then:
“Bend over the desk,” he says, voice stern. You could almost picture him in one of the Academy’s auditoriums giving a lecture in that tone, absolute, bossy. He knows it, of course. He knows you, after all, just like any of inventions, he had spent several hours studying you. Loving you.
Your walls squeeze nothing at the words, but the light from the descending dusk is enough for him to see it.
“Hmm,” Viktor says. “I wonder how you’ve been pleasing yourself these days that I haven’t returned home, my jewel.”
You attempt to roll over—you want to see him, because he looked just so unfairly stunning with his brown hair stuck to his temples, beads of sweat running down his chest as he bit his lip as seeing you just so shamelessly needy for him, trying to contain himself just a little longer...
He pushes your back down the desk, pinching your butt once he catches you trying to turn your head to see him.
“Oh, no, no, my love. If you are going to distract me, then you must accept the consequences.” He bends down, biting your earlobe before nuzzling his nose down your neck, taking in the sweet essence of your clothes, of your hair, the same one he could always smell on his pillow. The mix of his shampoo makes his grasp on your hips tighten.
You whine, pouted lips parting in a breathless moan when he introduces the handler of his cane inside of you, his thumb lazily rubbing circles on your clit, first clockwise, and then in the contrary direction once he feels your walls starting to contract, ushering your orgasm away.
The wet sounds of the handle coming in and out your soaked cunt fills the lab, Viktor’s stool creaking as he re-position. From the sound of his pants unbuckling, you think you know what he’s doing that needed such a good grip on his seat.
“I wonder if you’d take me as well,” he mumbles, your wet sounds mixed with a new one that could only be Viktor starting to jack off from the view of you. "All those toys and they can't replace me.” He uses his left knee to part your legs even wider, his free hand making a wrinkled mess of your skirt, just above your hips.
You huff, fingers white from grabbing the edge of the desk. “As if I’ve ever disappointed you.”
Viktor chuckles, pinching your clit slightly before letting go. The emptiness fills you when he withdraws his cane, though the narrow length is soon replaced by the thick head of his cock rubbing against your entrance.
“Mmmm,” you hum, satisfied. Your hips buckle against him, trying to take him inside of you in one thrust.  Sadly, Viktor’s punishment for keeping him away from his duties was never.-ending teasing.
Viktor caresses the curve of your ass, his hands going to brush the outline of your hips and waist until his chest is against your back once again, his big length teasing through your folds without actually giving you what you want—and yet, you know you could finish off with only this. Would he be so cruel, though?
“Come here,” he mutters against your ear, sliding a hand around your waist, and pushing you down the seat with him.
You hiss, feeling the quick buckle of his hips as his cock burrows deep inside of you, twitching at the welcoming, wet warmth of your walls. His hands take you by the hips to stop you from starting to ride him.
“Shhh, shhh. Patience, my love,” Viktor coos, nuzzling his face in the side of your neck as he bites a trail of kisses toward your shoulder, fingers gently pulling down one end of the scarf, brushing slowly down your shoulders to reveal the quite generous cut in your neckline.
Humming, approbatory, Viktor returns to his desk, with a firm grip around your waist to keep you still.
He kisses your cheek, putting his cane against the wall. The metal glistens, soaked with your juices against the reddish hue of the dying sunlight.
His right hand pushes your legs open, tangling your legs against the desk to keep them open when his fingers slide down your stomach, fingers lazily rubbing your clit.
Closing your eyes, your head lolls against his shoulder, letting him take your lips in a kiss that lets you taste the bitterness of the coffee he has just drank to keep himself awake during the night.
His tongue passes along your bottom lip, and it’s indeed that cherry-flavored lipstick, teeth grazing the sensitive skin as the hand grabbing your hip raises to grab your breasts when he grows needy, too.
“Vitya…” you moan, voice muffled as he kisses you again.
“My favorite blouse,” Viktor says, tugging down the smock of the front so he could see your lacy black bra. “So easy to access.”
You smile, hips gently swaying side to side against his lap each time he strokes your clit.
Viktor’s fingers work masterfully inside your bra, rubbing your nipple as your hands frantically undo the clip of your top so he can push the bra away.
It’s too much. Between his playful nibbles down your neck, the slow circles drawn on your clit, his fingers pinching your nipples and rubbing them to make the little peaks soft again even his cock filling you, although still, is enough to push you through the edge of pleasure. Legs shiver as your mouth stutters a moan, letting out a cry that Viktor drowned with his mouth.
“We can’t let the guards know what we’re doing, don’t you think, my jewel?”
“Why… why not?” you pant, kissing the mole peeking above his shirt’s collar. “My boyfriend fucks me so good,” you giggle.
Viktor smiled, his cock twitching at your lewd words. Your walls keep squeezing him, greedily wanting to be soaked with his cum.
"I haven't yet today," Viktor hums, deep in thought, kissing your sweaty brow. “Let me finish revising this blueprint, and we’ll go home.”
You pout, but only another heated kiss is necessary to make you respond:
“Okay,” you say, all doe-eyed now that you’re satisfied. Momentarily, of course. And that you had convinced him to go home. “But only this one blueprint. Or I’ll bite you.” You try to stand up, Viktor’s hand yanking you back between his legs before his cock could sleep out from your pussy.
“I never said you could move, my love,” Viktor says, squeezing your hips playfully. “I’d take you can be a good girl while I finish my work?”
You shake your head. “No.”
Viktor chuckles, his free hand starts to rub your overstimulated clit once again. His other hand quickly drops his pen to reach the bottom drawer of his desk, where you can see the outline of the vibrator Viktor keeps there ‘just in case’. “I suppose I just have to tire you up, then.”
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jenosbliss · 5 months ago
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Hello!! May I request Mark 1,5,14,7 fluff & smut?
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pairing. afab!reader x husband!mark | genre. smut , fluff | wc. 2.6k | mdni!
warnings. fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), nipple play, kind of body worship, loads of kissing and mark is just a sweetie :’) let me know if i missed something
summary. this marriage was a business deal for you, no one asked your opinion and forced you into this. but mark felt differently and tonight he needed to show you just how much he wanted and loved you.
a/n. this is my first smut ever ㅜ_ㅜ and idk if it’s like smutty? enough so please leave feedback’s! and hope you like it anon
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Mark felt his shoulders relax as the warm droplets ran down his body, with a heavy sigh he leaned against the tiled wall, running a hand through his wet hair. He let his exhausted body relax against the warmth of the water, the official dinner tonight left him worn-out.
Forcing laughters and putting on that fake smile, every time he met a business partner or a colleague wasn’t easy. He loathed official dinners like these, more so because it was all a masquerade for the business world to prove how successful his marriage is, yes it was a dinner to celebrate his wedding.
His parents had arranged his marriage with you as a way to strengthen the merger of the two companies. Everyone knew this marriage was nothing but a business deal, an assurance that this merger will last forever, and benefit both the companies. “That’s how marriages work in families like ours” your elder sister, who suffered the same fate, had tried to provide some comfort to you when you were informed about your marriage.
Mark saw how friendly and happy you seemed today interacting with others at the dinner, knowing you were faking everything too like him but still he couldn’t help and feel his heart swell with affection for you whenever he saw you smile. He loved you, he was sure of it, the moment he saw you walk down the aisle he fell headfast in love with you, and everyday was like fighting a battle to not confess his feelings for you cause he knew you didn’t feel the same.
As the warm water cascaded down his skin, he felt himself release another deep sigh. Yes, you had asked him to wait, to give you sometime but seeing you in that midnight blue dress tonight, the way it perfectly highlighted your curves, the colour complementing your skin tone, the light makeup and your hair falling on your shoulders. He couldn’t help but feel himself drawn to you in ways he has never felt before, his desires getting the best of him, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.
Turning off the shower Mark walked out, “Get a hold of yourself.” looking at his reflection in the mirror he tried to get his desires in control, to respect your boundaries, to give you the space you asked for. Wrapping a towel around his waist he finally walked out of the bathroom, only to find you standing in the middle of the bedroom struggling with your dress.
He carefully reached you from behind “You need help?” he asked hesitantly, placing his hand on your bare shoulder. His touch sent jolts to run down your spine as you turned around. You didn’t expected to see him half naked in front of you, just a towel hanging below his waist leaving almost nothing to your poor imagination. It was your first time seeing him like this in all the 2 months of your marriage, you knew he was muscular but the way his chiselled abs glistened under the drops of water or the way it made you feel hot in places you won’t like to admit, had you doubting all the things you knew about your husband.
Mark noticed the way your cheeks burnt red and how you gulped looking at him, a smirk curving his lips upwards as he teased “Like what you see?” Snapping out of your thoughts you turned back around “Uh” you cleared your throat “Can you help me with the zipper, I guess it's stuck somewhere” He let out a small chuckle at your flustered state, moving closer as he let one of his hand to gently push your hair aside, fingers grazing the back of your neck, leaving goosebumps to rise in their wake.
He slowly pulled the zipper down, exposing your back to him. He gulped as he let his eyes trail down to your waist, he just couldn’t believe how your beauty defied every standard he knew. Unable to stop himself, his fingers gently drew patterns on your back making you shudder under his touch.
“Mark, what are you doing?” You asked breath hitching when you felt his lips on your shoulder. “Y/N, you’re beautiful.” He kissed the back of your neck, his lips trailing towards your ear as his hands tranced patterns on your neck.
“Mark… we shouldn’t-” you gasped when he pulled you flush against his bare chest, “Y/N” he kissed you below your ear before whispering “I’m sorry, but I’m done waiting.” With this being said he left a trail of wet kisses along your neck and shoulders.
He felt your body tense under his touches and he slowly pulled back, turning you around by shoulders “Do you really not want this?” His eyes searched yours as he continued slowly pulling back himself from your proximity “Do you really not want me?”
With widened eyes you reached out and held his arm “No, no… I want you” you hesitated looking for words that won’t make you look like you hated him “It’s just, I’m confused… scared.” Mark smiled, moving close to you and gently caressing your cheeks “Do you trust me?” He asked, unable to form a sentence, you replied with a nod.
“Then trust me y/n I’m never going to do anything to hurt you.”
Without wasting a second he leaned in and kissed you, his lips moving against yours slowly at first as his hand rested on your waist. He tried to convey all the love he had for you through the kiss and soon it turned passionate, he held you close to him as he continued kissing you with desire.
“Can we take it further?” He asked breathlessly, resting his forehead on yours as his hands slowly rubbed against your sides.
All it took him was a nod and a feeble ‘yes’ from you to gently remove the dress from your shoulders as he let it slip all the way to your hips, his eyes taking in the sight of your bare chest in front of him… he couldn’t help but stare.
Feeling embarrassed under his gaze you moved your arms to cover your breast but he was quick to grab them before they could cover you. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?” He asked in a teasing tone. Blush crept up your cheeks as you admitted “It’s embarrassing”
Mark let out a light chuckle “Don’t hide away from me baby, you’re so beautiful I just can't get enough of the sight.” He whispered right above your ear before leaving a trail of wet kisses along your jaw as his hand carefully touched your breasts softly kneading the skin there when you let out a satisfied moan.
“You like it when I touch you here?” He lightly pinched your left nipple, pulling out a louder moan out of your lips, a satisfied smile curving his lips as he gently nibbled on your neck, sucking harshly and then licking it as if to soothe the pain.
“Mark” your fingers laced in his hair as you tugged them while moaning “don- don’t stop”
“I have no plans of stopping baby” he smirked against your neck. “But let’s make it more comfortable.”
Pulling down your dress as it fell around your ankles he helped you out of it, carrying you in his arms to the bed, carefully putting you down on the mattress, lips never leaving yours while he did all the work. He moved on top of you and trailed his lips down to your chest leaving marks all over.
“Let’s see what happens when I do this…” he licked over your nipple and then on the underside of your breast before taking it all in his mouth. His teeth gently grazed the soft skin there while he sucked on them harshly all the while pinching and kneading the skin of your other breast.
“Mark- ah- too good” you moaned again, arching your back a bit as you grabbed his shoulders, closing your eyes. “Making you feel too good?” He mumbled against your chest while moving his mouth to the other one as he continued his ministrations there.
He finally let go of your mounds with a pop, and came back up to claim your lips once again. This time he kissed with more urgency and hunger… as if he craved it, his hands cupping your breast then moving along your sides before finally moving where you needed them the most.
Tugging on the waistband of your underwear he pulled back from the kiss, his breath hot on your cheeks as you saw his hair sticking on his forehead due to the sweat. “You’re ready for it?” He asked, wiping the sweat from your face with his free hand.
“Yes” you smiled a little before moving your hands around his back as you pulled him close for a kiss. Mark felt himself melt in the kiss, his lips moved against your slowly and gently as if you were made of glass.
“I love you.” He said after pulling out from the kiss as he pushed your underwear down, his eyes meeting the glistening and swollen folds. He couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight while gently parting the folds with his fingers and he slid a finger between them.
This mere action made you arch your back as you threw your head back, moaning his name. “Fuck you’re so wet already.” He cursed as he collected your arousal in between his fingers and held it in front of him.
You opened your eyes a bit only to see him take his fingers in his mouth, a low moan leaving his mouth. “You taste so fucking delicious.”
“Mark… I need you.” You barely whispered, “Need me where?” He smirked knowing exactly what you meant. “Please Mark” you whined and took his hand to place it over your folds “here…”
He let out a low chuckle at your neediness but complied. Sliding two of his fingers in you as he began moving them in and out all the while rubbing your clit with his thumb. He watched the way you arched your back, the way you bit your lip, the way you threw your head back, the way your hands pinched your nipples and the way you moaned his name, squirming under his touch.
He replaced his hand on your breast and leaned down to suck on the other while increasing the pace of his fingers on your clit and folds. All this making you feel euphoric, pleasure clouding your mind as you feel your orgasm building, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.
“Mark -ah fuck fuck-“ you moaned when he entered a third finger pulling you even closer to your climax “I’m close” you managed to say as he continued fingering you.
Hearing your words he removed his fingers as he sat up on his knees, making you whine at the loss of contact. “Fuck I can’t have you cum on my fingers the first time I fuck you” he groaned as he removed the towel from his hips.
“Baby… goddamn you’re so beautiful” he gently caressed your cheek while looking you under him, the ruined mascara stains on your cheeks due to crying out of pleasure, smudged lipstick around your slightly swollen lips, dark red marks starting to appear all around your chest, your perfect hair now a mess.
He loved how you looked right now, he loved it more because he was the reason for your pleasure, it was like a work of art for him as he glided his hands up and down your sides before gently placing them around your hips as he leaned down and whispered “I’m going to make you mine.”
He stroked himself a few times before entering your folds and in you, letting out a low groan as he felt your warm walls around him, so tight yet so welcoming.
You cried at the feeling of him inside you, his thick and long length hurting a bit as you grabbed his bicep, digging your nails in his skin. “Tell me when you’re comfortable.” He leaned down and kissed the tears away all the while interlacing his fingers with yours.
“Move” you muttered against his lips, after finally adjusting to his size. He nodded and moved in slowly before pulling out a bit and moving in again. He repeated these actions slowly while placing soft kisses all over your face and neck.
After a few thrusts he increased his pace, holding your hips tightly to prevent you from moving as he gradually kept on increasing his pace, a string of moans falling out of your mouth as you threw your head back, relishing in this pleasure, holding his arms to give yourself stability.
A loud moan slipped past his lips when he felt you clench around him, his mind going feral as he nibbled and sucked around your neck and chest muttering “Mine. All mine. My wife.”
You pulled him closer, lacing your fingers in his hair at the words of possessiveness. “Fuck me harder.”
His eyes darkened at your words as he kissed you hungrily, biting and pulling down on your bottom lip, while he moved his hands to rub your clit once again and completely pulling out, just the tip in you before he bottomed out, his dick hitting that spot which made your eyes roll back to your head as you screamed loudly.
“Fuck I love you so much.” “My gorgeous wife.” “Taking me so well.” “Mine.” He mumbled in your ear all the while hitting that one spot repeatedly.
He knew you were close with the way you kept on mumbling incoherent words and clenching around him uncontrollably, he also knew he was close, so Mark again moved one of his hands to your hip, holding you still as he delivered this last sharp and intense thrust, making you slid up a bit as you let out a loud scream of his name and coming undone.
He saw the way orgasm washed over you and something in him snapped as he didn’t give you time to recover and kept on moving, chasing his own high. You cried due to over sensitivity and tried to push him away but to no avail.
He held down your squirming body with his hands and soon his thrusts became sloppier. He threw his head groaning loudly when you clenched around him.
“Shit baby, you’re so fucking good at it.” He moaned before coming undone. You felt him cum inside you, a moan slipping past your lips. He looked down to where your bodies met and how his cum got mixed with yours. “You’re so messy.” He looked up at you once again admiring your messy and worn out state “But I love seeing you a mess like this.” He pecked your lips “My mess.”
Gently pulling out he rushed to the bathroom to grab a wet towel and cleaned you before wiping your face with wet tissues, tossing them in the dustbin as he finally laid down next to you, pulling you close against his chest.
“When I said I love you… I meant it. I know this marriage wasn’t the ideal one but that doesn’t mean we can’t try and make the best out of it.” He placed a lasting kiss on your forehead “You are my wife. And I won’t hesitate a bit to say that you actually mean the world to me now.”
“I love you.”
You looked up at him to meet his eyes as you placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb slowly over his cheekbone before kissing him softly.
“I love you too.”
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a/n. this fic is not related to the poll i posted earlier, that’s for a different one ;)
masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv
100 follower event 🌷
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honeekyuu · 5 months ago
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genius. [akaashi keiji x f!reader] chapter one.
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>>You struggle to pay rent on your limited graduate student salary, and your worst enemy agrees to help you out.
or
You realize you need to find a partner for your faceless porn account, and Akaashi Keiji is the only man who meets all your requirements.<<
series status: [ongoing]
masterlist. || next.
a/n: this series is going to be the death of me. im currently writing ch. 2, and the first scene (the first scene!!! of 9!!!!!) is 10k words. i wrote a 10k smut scene. :)))) im actively dying. please enjoy chapter 1!!!
[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]
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“ Shit, shit shit- ” You throw things all over the apartment, searching for your keys. The clock on the wall reads 10:55AM, flipping quickly to 10:56 and making you swear again. “ Fuck! Oh-” You snatch up your house keys with a victorious cheer and then immediately race for the door, your bag hauled over your shoulder on the way.
You turn the 30-minute bike ride to campus into 20 minutes, but that still gets you to the door of the Linguistics department by 11:15. You slam down on the elevator button repeatedly while you wait, glancing back at the rest of the lobby only when you hear someone call your name. It’s a student of yours, so you have to smile and wave back politely, even though all you want is to scream ‘ I’m so fucked! ’ into the void. 
The elevator doors open, and you treat the buttons on the inside panel with the same cruelty, choosing to text your frustrations to Bokuto while you wait to arrive on the 5th floor.
[11:16 AM]
You: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
Kou: OMG SAME
You: ?? whats wrong on your end
Kou: nothing why?
Kou: IS SOMETHING WRONG???
You snort, rolling your eyes.
You: late to my 11am
Kou: OH THE READING GROUP
Kou: which one is that??? Linguisticsomething of something something??
You: you know,,, there was no way to be wrong with that answer kou
Kou: :))))) 
You: it’s LEM
Kou: LINGUISTICS AND EXPERIMENTAL METHODS
Kou: RIGHT
Kou: oh wait isnt that the one akaashis in?????
You: thats why im fucked
Kou: oh im sure he wont say anything
Kou: SAY HI FOR ME
The elevator opens, so you shove your phone away and race down the hall to the lab room. You skid to a stop in front of the door, taking a calming breath before pushing into the room as quietly as possible. A few people glance up from the round table in the center with small smiles before returning to the presentation on the screen, but you know well enough that you’re not in clear.
“-f it’s true then that case gets valued where base-generated, rather than at the landing site after Movement, we should see that these forms are nominative-marked. However, clearly, we get accusa-” 
You take the seat closest to the door, and it creaks.
Akaashi Keiji’s eyes find yours.
You grimace openly at him, and he lifts an eyebrow, his finger still hovering over the example on the TV.
“Y/n. Would you like me to start over?”
You struggle not to roll your eyes at him, your face burning with embarrassment. “Of course not. Please, continue.”
“It might be helpful if I start over-”
“I don’t need the background on case valuation in Korean, Akaashi,” you snap. “We work on the same language.”
You watch his eyes harden. It’s only you that he looks at like that. He opens his mouth, but your advisor cuts in on your left.
“Okay, you two,” he says. “Let’s try not to kill each other today.”
You lean back in your chair, arms crossed, and meet Akaashi’s eyes evenly. He stares back blankly only a moment before returning to his presentation.
“So, we can see here that accusative-marked nominals are permitted, despite the prediction that only nominative is grammatical-” 
You let out a quiet breath, trying to pay attention to his presentation – because, no doubt, he’d put you on the spot about it soon – while also recovering from the adrenaline rush of getting here. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you extract it subtly, glancing at the screen. There are two alerts.
Bank Account Balance (Oct. 10); $562.95
Rent Notification: Rent and Utilities; Payment ($1018.00) Due Nov. 1
Your heart sinks, a lump forming in your throat, and you shove your phone away, returning to Akaashi’s presentation. A coffee cup from the nearby cafe slides into your periphery, and you turn to see your advisor pushing it toward you silently, his own cup in front of him. He doesn’t look at you, but he does crack a tired smile.
“ Drink, ” he whispers. “ You’ve had a hard couple days. ”
You smile and bring the cup to your lips, ignoring when Akaashi glances at it and then between you and your advisor. It’s your regular order, and you’re immensely glad that most of your advisor meetings happen at coffee shops. You make it through Akaashi’s presentation with little issue – unsurprisingly for the department’s Golden Boy, his work is flawless. You agree with every argument he makes, every flaw he finds in the analyses of previous work.
So when he says “ Any questions?” in that polite, soft-spoken way of his, you’re prepared for the very few questions asked to be nothing more than clarification. No one has any comments about his thinking or his analysis, and no one challenges him. Because Akaashi Keiji is always right. 
But you can also see that these questions don’t excite him. He answers each one nicely, nodding along and mumbling ‘ Yes, that’s right ’ or humming thoughtfully – as though he needs to think about it at all – and then shaking his head, clicking through his slide deck until he can point to something and correct someone’s thinking. But he looks a bit disappointed, like he’d been hoping for a bit more of a discussion. He even glances at your advisor hopefully – but your advisor is also his advisor, so why would he have any notes? He’s already pre-approved all of this.
Well, that’s what you get for being so smart, you think with a little bit of snark. Your advisor always preaches to the group that peer feedback creates room for improvement, but what’s Akaashi supposed to do when there’s no more room? He’s already the best.
He meets your eyes briefly, and you look away. You’re not going to give him what he wants.
“Okay, then,” he says after a moment, unplugging his laptop from the TV. “Thanks for listening – Y/n?” You pull your laptop from your bag, standing and rounding the table. You take the HDMI cord from him, slipping into the chair he’d occupied. He takes yours, careful not to touch your things. You sigh softly and then smile at the rest of your reading group.
“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming.” You gesture to the TV, your slide deck open. “So, if you were here for my most recent project, you know that I got some interesting results and will be broadening the scope in order to explore them for my dissertation.”
You launch into your presentation, the material so familiar to you that you don’t have to think about what to say. Your second major project had wrapped up last year, your name sitting on a journal article set to print at the end of the month. You’d gotten a number of reviewers asking similar questions, all related to the experimental results of one of your tasks, so you and your advisor had decided that, for the dissertation, you would be increasing the technical difficulty and redoing the experiment with new materials and a more rigorous theoretical analysis.
You present this to the group, outlining your idea and the changes you’d be making to the original project in order to answer the open questions left by your reviewers. By the end of your 20-minute slot, you’ve got most of the group nodding along in agreement.
Most of the group.
You do your best not to look at him, but you can still see Akaashi sitting there with his arms folded in his lap, his expression void of everything. His eyes skim your slides, unreactive, and you just know that you’re in for it.
“Okay-” you sigh, clapping your hands on your knees. “That’s it. Thoughts?”
Your advisor lifts his brows, a smile tugging at his lips, and you know he’s thinking the same thing.
Just the grilling of a lifetime incoming .
There’s silence for a while, everyone trying and failing not to look at Akaashi, because they know how this will go. And then his lips part, a soft breath taken.
“Can I… ask a few questions?” He starts gentle, the way he always does. He fools everyone into thinking he’s sweet and soft and careful, but you know better. You know that, if you were anyone else, he wouldn’t have started like that. He would have complimented their work first, noted the things he thought they’d done well.
You’ve never heard a compliment from Akaashi Keiji in the five years you’ve known him.
“Of course,” You sigh. Some snickers pass through the group.
“How do you know that this will tell you anything at all?”
He doesn’t hold back – you’ll give him that.
“Sorry?”
“If your results indicate a misalignment between the production of this ambiguous form and the comprehension of it, why are you using eye-tracking to test only comprehension? Where’s your production gone?”
You inhale slowly, flicking back through the slides. “Like I said before, there are two possibilities for why this form was over-produced and under-accepted by participants. Either they are operating within their grammar and just attaching an emphatic element to a different word, resulting in a homophone with the ambiguous form I’m interested in-” You flick through more slides. “Or they’re operating outside of their grammar, in which case there are discourse factors at play.” 
You meet his eyes with a tight smile, trying to remain polite. “Running an eye-tracking task with comprehension will let me see, in real time and without metalinguistic interference, if they accept this form in situations that should be ungrammatical. If they don’t, then these results are due to emphatic attachment and that’s that. If they do, then..” You shrug. “There’s more to be done. But my point is that production wouldn’t be necessary here. I have what I need.”
The group all shift their eyes from you to him in an instant, waiting for the tennis match to start. Akaashi only meets your gaze for a moment and then nods, and you feel mildly victorious at having won this interaction. But you swallow it down, because he’s opening his mouth again.
“And what about case?”
You almost roll your eyes. “What about it?”
“What analysis are you adopting?”
“I’m only using accusative-marked forms for this experiment,” you say. “The object of the embedded clause is the position I need. I’m not adopting competing analyses.”
“But there are other ways to mark case on these forms – as I’m sure you’re aware.” His gaze narrows at you when he says it, and you know he’s getting back at you now for your comment earlier. “What about those?”
“I’m not interested in them-”
“ Right ,” he bites. “I understand that. But what are the case alternations available?”
It takes a special kind of person to draw Akaashi Keiji’s patience short, and you’re happy to be that person every single time. You have to purse your lips not to smile, because there’s a little piece of you that finds it funny to draw out that twitch in his eyebrow that no one else claims to have ever seen.
“Genitive and nominative, and dative under restricted circumstances.”
He lifts his brows at you. “So pretty much all of them.”
You nod simply. “But using pretty much all of them means I’d have to change the structure of the sentence for each type. It’s not a simple swap.”
“Then do it.”
“Excuse me?” You lift your eyebrows in disbelief.
He shrugs. “Your results could be due to any of the things you’ve talked about. Or they could be due to this form being preferred with different case markers in different situations. You could be getting low acceptability because of the case, rather than what you’re interested in.”  
You just stare. “That’s, like, four dissertations, Akaashi.”
His eyes have flattened out again. “Then maybe you should have done it right the first time.”
“ Okay ,” your advisor says, clapping his hands. “Hour’s up. Let’s thank Keiji and Y/n for their time.”
Your eyes stay locked on Akaashi’s while the room clears out, both knowing that you’re not allowed to go anywhere. You get a couple ‘ good job ’s from the people leaving, but you can’t bring yourself to break eye contact first. In fact, it only serves to irritate you more – why is it only you that gets those reassuring comments? Why don’t people tell Akaashi that he’s doing well? Do they think you need it? Does everyone think you need it more than he does?
“Alright,” your advisor breathes, shutting the door again and turning toward you. “Oh-Come on, you two.”
You break first, dipping your head and turning to unplug your laptop from the TV. 
“That was good, both of you.” Your advisor cuts a glance at Akaashi as he sits. “A little harsh there, but-”
“Sorry,” He mumbles, immediately deferent. But you know he’s not apologizing to you, and that makes you finally roll your eyes.
“Okay, okay,” your advisor laughs, taking his coffee and sipping at it. “Let’s just finish this up so I can get away from all this hostility.”
The meeting ends quickly, the three of you just summarizing thoughts and future steps for each of your projects. Akaashi purses his lips when you speak about your plans, but he doesn’t push at you any further. 
Finally, you’re able to leave, so you gather your things quickly and bolt for the door. Unfortunately, your office is directly across from Akaashi’s, so the walk down the hall is spent with him on your heels.
“It’s not four dissertations, by the way,” he says as soon as your advisor’s out of earshot. “Just redesign your materials to include the case alternations, and you’ll get something interesting.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head, not stopping your march down the hall. “I’ve already designed the eye-tracking materials, Akaashi. It’ll take me weeks to redo them for case.”
“Then take the weeks ,” he argues, just as you’re both arriving to your respective doors. “Do you want to do it fast, or do you want to do it right?”
You whirl on him, your anger unfiltered now that you’re alone. “What would you know? You’ve never done the kind of research I have to do. You don’t know anything about psycholinguistics – you don’t know what goes into something like this. You just sit in your world of theory, without ever thinking about the practical applications. You might be right about everything all the time, Akaashi, but I’m the one who has to take those theories and do something with them.” 
He stares back emptily while you rant, and then he leans in close, his eyebrows lifting as his voice drops. “Are you really going to be okay not including the case alternations? Now that I’ve brought it up?” When you only sigh heatedly through your nose, glaring up at him, he shakes his head. “No. You’re not.” Then he turns to his office door, slotting the key in the lock while mumbling to you. “You’re a lot of things, Y/n, but you’re not lazy.”
You stare at his office door long after it’s been shut.
You really hate Akaashi Keiji.
“I dunno, Kou, I’m not sure what to do,” you sigh, running a finger along the rim of your coffee cup. It’s the same from earlier, because you don’t have the money to buy another and because drinking it slowly helps to stave off your hunger. You’d been too rushed for lunch before leaving home, but you know dinner’s only four hours away. You can last until then.
“Well-” Bokuto talks through a mouth full of food. “-is it gonna bug you to not do it?”
“ Yes ,” you admit a little grumpily. “Of course it is. But I don’t have the time – I wanted to have pilot data for the experiment by the end of October.”
“What would happen if you pushed it back a few weeks?” He asks loudly, spooning more food into his mouth before he’s even done eating the first mouthful.
“I don’t know. It would just push my whole timeline back, and I’d graduate later than expected, and I’m already losing my mind. I need a job , Kou – I can’t live on grad student wages much longer.”
“Yeah, I feel you,” he nods, pulling more food out of his backpack. “But at least you’re still splitting that nice apartment with your roommate! $500 a month is so nice.”
You stare down at your lukewarm coffee.
You haven’t exactly mentioned to him or your other friends that your roommate had moved out. She hadn’t left for anything negative – in fact, she’s a good friend of yours. The two of you had posted in the graduate students’ forum over the summer before your first year, each requesting roommates, and you’d paired up nicely. Your personalities had gone together well, and you’d stayed roommates the entirety of grad school. But she’d had to go home suddenly, which was fine for her because she’s finishing up her dissertation and doesn’t need to be on campus.
However, that does leave you without a roommate in the middle of the semester. There’s a fee for you to break your lease early, and it would overall be way more expensive for you to move out, especially in the middle of October. But paying over $1000 on your own, with your limited salary, is extremely difficult.
You’d looked for another roommate, but there aren’t any grad students without housing this late in the year – the only people you’d seen posting on the university Facebook page about housing had been undergrads, and you’re certainly not comfortable with that. So, you’d looked for extra jobs, but your student contract only allows you to be employed a certain amount, and you’d already reached the maximum. Your advisor had told you as much, shaking his head regretfully when you’d all but begged for extra hours in his lab. You’d even tried finding jobs outside of the university, but most of them had asked for a consistent work schedule and more hours than you can afford to give. 
Which might be why you’d decided to turn to making adult content online.
You’re not particularly attached to the idea of being a porn star, but you’d seen a video online talking about the amount of money that adult content creators can make even from a single video, and you’d made an account without giving yourself time to think about it. You’d taken all the necessary precautions – things like always editing out your face and the singular tattoo you have on the inside of your ankle, or never displaying your background in a way that would be recognizable to someone who knows you. You really don’t need anyone finding out about this, especially not your friends.
You’re not sure that Kuroo would really care – the chemistry student’s nosy, sure, but he’s a big proponent of leaving people to their lives. And you know that Bokuto would probably find it interesting, but he’s got an objectively big mouth and little social control, so it would be a risk to tell him. The only person you’re really worried will find out is Yachi – your closest friend, that sweet girl wouldn’t be likely to judge, but she certainly wouldn’t understand. She’d ask a lot of questions – ‘ why would you do something like that?’; ‘well, are you sure there aren’t other options?’; ‘i would rather move out if i were you’ . Yachi’s had a very straightforward way of thinking ever since you met her, and she’d be the most likely to tell you that pursuing this line of work is drastic and unnecessary. You’re not sure you’re emotionally strong enough to deal with that.
Especially since your new occupation isn’t exactly going well . You’ve only been at it a few weeks, and you’ve garnered a decent number of subscribers on your platform – 897, to be exact (you check every day; you’re desperate). But, in the month since your roommate’s left, you’ve hardly made $300, and, while $300 of extra income per month is certainly not insignificant, it’s not enough to pay your rent.
Which is why you’re sitting here now, lunchless and sipping pitifully at cold coffee. But at least you’re in good company, Bokuto’s presence always a weight off your shoulders.
“Hi, Bokuto.”
Here comes the weight, right back on your shoulders.
You look up from your cup, meeting Akaashi’s eyes. He scans you quickly but doesn’t greet you, only setting his lunch tray down on the table and taking the seat beside Bokuto. The silver-haired man looks between you with wide eyes.
“Aw, man! Did you guys fight at your reading group?!” He rubs at his stomach. “Don’t fight now, too. It’ll make my tummy hurt.”
You laugh weakly, turning away and surveying the crowded dining hall. “Of course not, Kou. You’re neutral ground.”
“What she said,” Akaashi says, carefully mixing his food with his chopsticks. He cuts a glance at your coffee cup. “Is that the same one from this morning?” He glances at the time on his phone. It’s already past 2:30.
You’re instantly defensive. “Yeah.”
He hears the edge in your tone, shaking his head with a breath of laughter while pulling noodles into his mouth. He chews and swallows before responding, ever the gentleman. “Didn’t bring lunch?”
“Forgot it at home.”
He points at the buffet line at the back of the dining hall. “Then buy something.”
“Trying to save money,” you say. You watch his eyebrows pull together in confusion, and you know why – the dining hall’s extremely cheap, usually only $8 or $9 for a fair lunch. The issue is that you don’t have $8 or $9. You don’t have rent money, so you don’t have lunch money.
Thankfully, though, he doesn’t say anything else about it, and you’re briefly appreciative that he’s respectful of your financial situation. You’re also appreciative that he doesn’t tip Bokuto off about it. The large man is tapping away on his phone while he chews loudly, so he’d barely heard the questions Akaashi had asked you. He looks up at the silence now, glancing between you. 
“What’d I miss?”
“Nothing. We were fighting,” Akaashi says. Today’s turning, shockingly, into a day of appreciating Akaashi Keiji.
“ No, ” Bokuto whines. “No fighting.”
A body slides into the spot beside yours, and another into the spot beside Akaashi.
“They fighting?” Kuroo asks, organizing his food on his tray. Tsukishima snorts across the table, mumbling ‘ aren’t they always? ’ quietly.
“We’re fine,” you laugh. “Trying not to make Kou’s tummy hurt.”
“Fair enough,” Kuroo says as he’s lifting a bite of food to his mouth. He stops, though, staring down at your cup. “Your tummy hurts, too, I guess.”
“I guess so,” you say, smiling and sipping at the now-gross coffee. He doesn’t say anything about it, only turning to ask Tsukishima about some ongoing drama in the history department. But he does slide his tray between the two of you while he talks, shoving his chopsticks into your hand and then leaning casually over to keep chatting to the blond, as though he’s merely asking you to hold them while he talks. You purse your lips, embarrassment warming your ears, but you pick at his tray anyway – just a bit of rice and a thin cut of spam balanced on his spoon. You take two bites and then slide the tray back, muttering ‘ thanks ’ under your breath.
You feel Akaashi’s eyes on you, but you refuse to meet them. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and you pull it into your lap.
[2:47 PM] New Comment on Your Video
Your eyes widen, and you lower the brightness and turn your back slightly to Kuroo. 
user6969 : pretty hot, would be hotter with someone fucking her tho
It already has ten likes. Your eye twitches, and you clear the notification quickly. You could never film with another person. You can’t . That defeats the whole purpose of keeping this anonymous. 
But what if that’s the thing keeping you from making money? From paying rent? At this point, would you rather bring someone else into this, or would you rather eat the cost of moving out?
But you can’t move. With breaking the lease and having to sign a new one – moving fees not included – you already don’t have enough money. There’s no way to get approved for a new place with such little money in your bank account. 
Should you sell feet pics? No, you can’t switch platforms or content at this point. You’d be starting from nothing in that case, and it’s no guarantee you’d do well there. Not that you’re really doing well with your current account, either.
Are you going to have to find a partner to film with?
“ Y/n .”
You jump, looking up. Akaashi’s staring back, standing behind Bokuto with his eyebrows raised and his tray in his hand. He looks a little annoyed.
“I’ve been calling your name.”
You blink. “Sorry. What is it?”
He lifts his brows impossibly further. “We have to go.”
You start, checking the time again. It’s 2:52. You have to go to the undergraduate class you’re TAing with him. “Oh, shit,” you mutter, standing with your bag. “We’re gonna be late.” You wave a cursory goodbye at the others, rushing to toss your coffee in the trash. 
You chase after Akaashi, cursing his long legs, and follow him across the quad to the lecture hall. You both slide past the doors just as your advisor’s clearing his throat to get the class’s attention. 
“ Now that our distinguished TAs have arrived, we can get started… ” he says into the microphone connected to the podium.
You follow Akaashi up the steps to the top row, managing to control the urge to roll your eyes at the number of undergrad girls watching longingly as Akaashi passes by. You sit with him in the back corner, huffing quietly and then hugging your bag to your stomach, because a low gurgle of hunger is creeping out. Akaashi snorts quietly, and you glare sideways at him. But he just reaches down into his bag, extracting a granola bar and offering it to you, his eyes still on the whiteboard at the front.
You grimace. “ I’m good, thanks, ” you whisper.
“ It’s going to annoy me, ” he says, jabbing the bar at you. You take it with a soft sigh, mumbling ‘ thanks ’ to him while you try to unwrap the plastic without being loud. You eat it quietly, deciding that it’s the least he can do for torturing you during LEM. And then you stuff the empty plastic in your bag before extracting your laptop, intending to take notes on your advisor’s lecture.
The screen is bright and noticeable when it opens to your most recently opened tab – thankfully not your porn account, which you’re always mindful to close before leaving home. But it is open to your bank’s website, still signed in and clearly displaying the meager $562.95 in your checking account.
You jump, rushing to lower the screen brightness and close out of the tab at the same time, and then you cut a glance at Akaashi. He’s not looking directly at your screen, but he’s certainly not looking at the whiteboard anymore. His eyes hover suspiciously in the space between your laptop and his, and he meets your eyes quickly before looking away when he realizes you’re watching him.
“ Sorry, ” he mumbles. “ Brightness caught my eye. ” 
“ Don’t say anything ,” is all you say. All that you’re willing to plead with him. He just lifts a brow and nods, saying nothing else as he refocuses his attention on the lecture. You sigh, pushing two frustrated fingers against your temple, because now Akaashi Keiji knows you’re broke and living way too far above your means.
You sit on your couch four days later, scrolling aimlessly through Tinder. You grimace as you swipe, unable to bring yourself to approve of any of the guys you’re seeing. There are obviously some good-looking ones, and even some extremely attractive ones, but every time you start to swipe right, you hesitate.
How crazy are you going to look, matching on a dating app with someone, only to ask them if they’d be willing to be your faceless porn partner?
You groan, throwing your phone down. You can’t believe you’ve even gotten to this point. Just this week, you’d sworn you would keep running your account alone. You’d sworn you wouldn’t let anyone else get involved with this, for your pride and for your anonymity.
That’s another reason you’re so unwilling to match with someone on Tinder. What if he ends up being a total weirdo? What if he leaks your name online or talks about you to his friends? Or-
Oh, God, what if he lies about his age and ends up being an undergrad? Even worse – an undergrad in your department ?
“ Ugh- ” You shudder, picking your phone back up. “No. No fucking way.” You quickly delete your account and the app, shaking your head. It’s too much of a risk, and you’re not even sure you could ever trust someone you don’t know to help you with something so private and sensitive.
Do I really have to find a partner?  
You pull your laptop from the table and open it, logging into your porn account and scrolling through the videos. You’d stuck to the same posting schedule since you’d started, maintaining consistency and posting every day over the last four weeks. It had definitely helped with your views, because the subscribers you do have know when to expect a new video. But, even this week alone, your view count has become stagnant and – in the case of the video you’d posted today – even gone down a few thousand hits.
You check the section for monetization, seeing you’d made an extra $16 dollars in the last four days. $16 dollars in four days. You might as well start selling your couch.
But if you can’t find a partner amongst the hundreds of men you don’t know, then it has to be someone you do know.
“Kuroo,” you sigh, leaning your head back against the couch. And then you shake your head. He’s the best choice – he’s private and minds his business. He would never be a risk for outting you. He’s also extremely attractive, and you have decent chemistry. But he’s also one of your closest friends, and you’re not even willing to tell him you do this for a living, for fear of something changing between you. You could never ask him to help you.
“Bokuto,” you move on, bobbing your head back and forth. He’s definitely the least likely to let anything change between you – he’d find it interesting, and he would never judge you. He’d also be more than willing to help, especially since this is for the purpose of paying your bills and not just something you do for fun on the side. He’s incredibly kind and motivated in that way… but still, it isn’t right. 
Not only does it feel a bit weird to imagine having sex with him, even for business, but it also wouldn’t be long before he accidentally lets something slip to someone. It would be unintentional, of course, but Bokuto Koutarou isn’t exactly known for his subtlety. Not to mention that you need someone who can’t be recognized on camera, even faceless, and Bokuto’s presence is so overwhelming that it would take no time at all for someone who knows him to pinpoint exactly who it is.
You shake your head, going through the mental list of every guy you’ve ever interacted with. You don’t really know Tsukishima, despite eating lunch with him most days and seeing him at almost every function, and you get the feeling he would laugh in your face if you ask. You think of guys you’d known in college and even some guys you’d met at the events that your friends have invited you to. You even pick up your phone and start scrolling through your contacts, really stretching the limits of your imagination.
None of them work.
“ Fuck ,” you groan, scrubbing at your brow. This isn’t going to work.
Your phone buzzes with a text, the message sliding into view before disappearing.
[9:48 PM]
Akaashi: i printed copies of the handout for discussion on monday
Akaashi: putting them in my mailbox so you can grab them before class
Akaashi: youll print the exams next week, right?
You stare at the messages as they come in.
Akaashi . 
His name drifts like a whisper through your mind, and you have to throw your phone on the table and stand, your eyes wide.
“No. No,” you say, rounding the couch and pacing behind it. “No, no, no.”
Not him. Anyone but him. You can barely stand him, and the idea of him knowing what you do to make rent is unfathomable. You can’t trust him with something like that-
But, he is trustworthy. He’d shown himself not even a week ago to be sensitive to your personal information and financial situation. He makes judgment calls that benefit you, even though he could be doing everything in his power to make your life hell. As annoying as he is – as rude as he can be, especially to you – he’s a decent human being. He’s private, he’s subtle, he’s quiet and keeps to himself, and-
And he’s average. A very good-looking man, yes, but overall a perfectly normal, average guy that would never be recognized.
“ No! ” You groan, starting to pace harder. “ No, no, no! ”
Your phone starts to ring on the table. You jump, staring at the screen.
You can see his name even from here. 
You approach it carefully, hands shaking as you reach for it. 
“H-Hello?”
“ Y/n, ” he says, his voice quiet but firm.
“Uh-” You laugh weakly. “Hi. What’s… up?”
“ I’m just checking you got my texts. I’m leaving the department now. ”
“You stayed there until 10 on a Saturday?”
“ I lost track of time. You got my texts, then? ”
“Yes,” you sigh. “Yeah, I got them. Thanks for printing.”
“ And you’ll-”
“Yep. I got the exams.”
There’s silence on the other end, followed by the quiet jingle of his office keys. “ Are you… You sound.. not great. Nervous. ”
It’s mortifying that he can hear that it in your voice. Why can he hear that in your voice?
“No, I’m good. Just-just busy. Stressed.”
“ Oh. Okay, then. ” He pauses a moment, and you wonder if he’s giving you time to say more. You don’t. Finally, he clears his throat. “‘ Kay. Bye. ” He hangs up before you can repeat it back to him.
A perfectly average, decent human being who’s private, subtle, quiet, and keeps to himself.
The only issue is that you hate each other.
Great.
You pace in front of his office door two days later, biting your nails while you think. Anxiety swoops low in your gut, over and over again while you imagine talking to him. Swelling and heaving when you imagine the look on his face, inevitably judgmental and maybe a little amused that you’d even thought to approach him.
God, you can’t do this.
“No,” you mumble, turning back toward your own door. You’ll find someone else.
The door opens behind you, and you jump, spinning around. Akaashi stares at you in exasperation, his glasses askew and his hair ruffled like he’s been pulling his fingers through it.
“Are you going to come in, or are you just going to stand outside all day?”
“Uh,” you stammer, shaking your head. “Uh, no. No, I didn’t-I don’t have anything-”
“Y/n,” he sighs. “You’ve been pacing out here for ten minutes. I’ve been watching your feet go back and forth in front of my door this whole time. It’s really fucking distracting – I’m trying to work.”
Your eyes go wide, because you’re not sure you’ve ever heard Akaashi swear before. He opens the door wider, beckoning you in with an impatient sweep of his arm. You find yourself stepping past the threshold, wringing your hands as you stand in the middle of the little room. He leaves the door cracked, slipping past you carefully and returning to his desk.
“What is it?” He sits and starts sorting through his papers, attention only partially on you. “Something about LING 303? I graded my section’s assignments already – do you need the answer key?”
You swallow, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. “No, I… I have an answer key, too.”
“Then?”
A large part of you wants to leave. He’s in a bad mood, and he’s clearly busy. You’re not sure this is the best time to bring up something this sensitive with him. But then again – when would you ever find the best time to talk to Akaashi Keiji about your secret porn account?
So, with a shaky breath, you return to the door, pushing it closed quietly and locking it.
“Uhm,” you start, turning slowly on the spot and facing him. “Can we talk?”
He’s got his eyes, wary now, on the doorknob where your hand rests, your thumb still over the lock that’s been pushed in. He blicks and flicks his gaze to yours, eyes narrowing when he sees the discomfort in your expression. 
“O…kay?” He sets his papers down and leans back in his seat, his attention yours now. “...What’s up?”
You make your way to the chair in front of his desk and perch in it uncertainly. “Okay. Is it okay if I say everything before you talk?” He just tilts his head, watching you intensely, and then he nods once. Whatever had been on his mind before is clearly gone, and you silently hope it hadn’t been some groundbreaking idea that you’ve just interrupted.
“So,” you start, heaving out a nervous sigh. “You saw my bank account the other day. Last week.” He nods again, and you rush into the speech you’d practiced all morning, not wanting him to think you’re just here to ask for money. That might be easier, honestly. But your courage might never come again, so you need to barrel through this now. “It’s been that way for about a month now. I live in a 2-bedroom apartment, and – when I had a roommate-” He squints now, because he’s certainly heard Bokuto talk about your roommate as though she still exists. “-my rent was only $500 a month.”
He opens his mouth to speak, thoughts very obviously swirling in that overactive brain of his, but he shuts it again, remembering he’d promised you silence. He nods, and you nod back.
“She moved out a month ago for personal reasons, and if I break the lease and move out, too, it would cost more than just continuing to live there on my own. And-” You throw your hands around while you talk, ramping up in intensity now that you’ve gotten started. “-I know that in the long run, it’s more cost-effective to eat the move-out fees and the cost of moving, but you saw my bank account. I don’t have any way of doing that right now.”
“You need a roommate,” is what he says, unable to stop himself. You sigh, shaking your head.
“I tried. The only people searching for housing this late in the semester are undergrads.” He grimaces, and you nod. “So that’s not an option.” You sigh again, trying to remember what to say next. “Uh-Oh, right-So-” You wring your hands in your lap. “My rent’s over $1000, and I obviously don’t have that. And I’ve tried looking for extra jobs and for extra hours around the department, but I’m at max hours, and there are no part-time jobs that are flexible with my research and teaching schedule.”
You sigh shakily, staring out the window behind his head. You stay that way for a minute, gathering your courage. Akaashi watches you carefully, tracking the slight changes in your expression and the defeat that crosses your face.
“Y/n?” he asks, his voice soft now, in that way that he speaks to everyone who’s not you.
“Sorry,” you laugh. “Nervous.” You clear your throat and ground yourself, looking him straight in the eye. “So, I had to turn to some… desperate measures.” His eyebrows lift with interest, and you think you see him lean in almost imperceptibly. “I… decided to start making… content -”
You watch understanding cross his face immediately – of course it does, he’s not the Golden Boy for nothing. His eyes go wide, and he inhales quietly, leaning back in his chair and letting out a long, drawn out breath that ends in a quiet ‘ oh, boy ’. You stop talking, just watching him nervously. He stares back a moment, his mouth opening and closing with thoughts unsaid as he considers how to respond.
“And it was your only option?”
“Probably not,” you laugh. The sound is watery, and your eyes are starting to sting. “But I couldn’t think of anything else at the time, and I haven’t figured out anything better since – anything short of asking someone for a $500 loan.”
“Okay,” he says simply. You meet his eyes, searching for judgment or thinly veiled disgust, or anything . But he just looks back at you, his face devoid of everything but concentration as he thinks. “So, why are you telling me this?”
You break eye contact, staring down at your lap. You’re sweating profusely, your stomach doing that terrible flipping. “It’s… not exactly going well .”
Silence, and then-
“Define ‘ not going well ’.”
You flick your eyes to meet his briefly, seeing that he’s staring at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. When you make eye contact, he takes a breath.
“Y/n-”
“Someone-” You swallow. “I’ve only made $300 in the last four weeks, and my roommate helped me pay the October 1st rent because she felt bad for moving out so suddenly. I’m clearly desperate, Akaashi, because I’m not making the kind of money I need to be making, but there’s nothing else. And someone commented on a video that-” You break, rubbing at your brow and breathing hard. God, this is so difficult. You don’t know how to say it to him.
“You need a partner.”
You suck in a breath, your own watery, stinging eyes meeting his. He’s breathing a little harder now, and his expression’s not as guarded as it usually is. He’s tapping a finger nervously on his desk and blinking a lot.
“Why me?”
You fumble for an answer. “Uhm-Because-”
“Why not Kuroo?” He asks, his voice calm despite the increased tapping on his desk.
“‘m not sure our friendship would survive it. I care too much about him.”
He nods, clearly not offended by the implication that you’re willing to risk things with him . He’s not your friend and he knows that. The relationship between the two of you is delicate and tense, but it’s never entered the realm of care. Professional respect at most, outright hatred at worst. There’s nothing to risk by asking Akaashi Keiji to help, aside from the risk that he’ll make you feel bad or even that he’ll tell someone else. And it must mean something that you’re trusting him not to do those things.
“Bokuto?” he asks, jumping through all the same mental hoops that you had.
“There’s a million reasons it can’t be him,” you say, sighing tiredly. He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion, but he doesn’t push it. He just shakes his head slowly.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this with someone in the same department.” He considers something else, rolling his eyes slightly. “ And we have the same advisor. It’s too close. If something goes wrong…” He shakes his head again. “I don’t know, Y/n.”
“Right,” you say emptily. You’re already recalculating how often you can film and post solo content without losing too much sleep, the thought of selling feet pics popping up again. Anything to keep your mind off of the fact that talking to Akaashi had been a mistake – a waste of his time, and an exposure of yourself that had amounted to nothing. 
This had amounted to nothing, baring this piece of your life to him. How humiliating.
“Y/n,” he says gently. You don’t meet his eyes, just patting your pockets for your office keys.
“Okay, well – thanks for your time-”
“I won’t say anything, Y/n,” he tries. “About any of it. I promise.”
“Thanks,” you laugh. “Yeah, I would appreciate that. Sorry for wasting your time.” You stand quickly, spinning to the door.
“Y/n- Y/n- ” 
The sound of your name is muffled as you yank the door open and slam it closed behind you. You hear him sigh on the other side, a quiet ‘ fuck’ uttered in the stifling silence. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you plead for it to be Bokuto or Kuroo or Yachi.
Shockingly, it’s all three, sent to your group chat.
[2:26 PM]
Kou: LUNCH? TEN MINUTES?
Tetsu: bo we eat lunch at THE SAME TIME EVERY SINGLE DAY
Kou: IM JUST CHECKING, FUCK
Hitoka: i like that he reminds us, hehe
Kou: yeah, see??? Yachi’s forgetful!!!
Hitoka: hey now.
Kou: oops-
A small smile tugs at your lips as you drift down the hall to the grad student lounge to get your lunch. But, as you’re typing out that you’ll be down soon, another text comes in.
Akaashi: y/n i wont say anything
Akaashi: i swear
Your face burns with embarrassment. It’s damage control, plain and simple, and the fact that he feels the need to do that at all makes this whole situation worse. You can’t bring yourself to open the text or say anything else to him. It’s humiliating, knowing that Akaashi Keiji knows what you do for money now. That you’re not even good enough at it to make rent.
Akaashi doesn’t make it to lunch that day. You try your best to shrug uncaringly when Bokuto wonders aloud why he’s not there.
Keiji has never known what to make of you.
From the moment he’d met you – at the department orientation five years ago – he’d found you interesting, and not always necessarily in a good way. When you’d rattled off that list of research interests during your self-introduction, the one that had been unrealistically high-reaching and ambitious, he’d written you off as naive. When you’d made friends easily, your smile bright and your laugh loud and grating against his ears, he’d written you off as annoying.
And then you’d gone ahead and proven that that list wasn’t as high-reaching as he’d thought. Or maybe it was, and you’d just had a touch of insanity in your blood. You’d proven that you aren’t just ambitious – you’re successful. You’re smart – brilliant, even. And Keiji had found you interesting again, because he could never tell if you’d realized it. He still can’t.
You carry an intensity in your shoulders and eyes that he’s always caught off guard to see. You question the work of your peers with the kind of brutal honesty that should make you unpopular. It should make people hate you, the way you pick apart their ideas and results. But they never do. They never hate you, and he kind of hates that. 
Maybe it’s because you always seem so eager to learn. You don’t criticize when you question – you just question . You don’t tear anyone down – in fact, your questions only seem to build people up, to the point that you’re often stopped in the halls and asked for your opinion on methodological choices and theoretical connections. People seek you out, and you’re all too happy to help.
But with your own work, you’re suddenly unsure. Keiji bristles when he sees it, that uncertain tilt of your head when you talk. It’s almost impossible to notice, and he’s sure that, to everyone else, you’re just being humble, or a nervous public speaker, even. You’re knowledgeable about your work, you seem confident when you answer questions, and you accept criticism with grace, taking notes diligently when points come up that you hadn’t thought of.
But he sees it – that uncertainty in your own ability. And it pisses him off.
You are annoying, he’d decided after the first time he’d noticed that hesitant nature. It annoys him, because you work just as hard as he does – you’re just as smart as he is – and you can’t seem to see it. Or is it a ploy? Is it an act, a performative relatability that only he can see? 
You piss him off.
How can both of you be so brilliant, but you seem so much more likeable? How can people call him the Golden Boy and then be too afraid to approach him? You’re the Golden Girl, for fuck’s sake. Can’t they see it? Why are you so easy for people to talk to? Why do people tell you ‘ good job’ when you give presentations, and he’s never gotten so much as a pat on the shoulder? Why do people like you so much , and all he gets is polite smiles and nervous expressions? Why does his name float around the department in reverence, but it’s your name that people say when they want to get a second pair of eyes on their proposals, their chapters?
And why , for all that is good in the world, do you not realize it ?
That’s why he targets you. It’s like an itch he can’t reach — he just can’t help himself. He doesn’t offer you meaningless platitudes or careful language when he gives you feedback, because it’s not your favor he wants. What he wants is to push you. He wants to push you to your limit – bully you to it, if he has to. 
Because it’s your research that’s born of brilliance, the kind of brilliance that makes goosebumps rise on his skin. The kind that makes his spine straighten and his gut wrench with excitement. It’s your research – your mind – that he’s drawn to. He wants to see you succeed, because he wholeheartedly believes that you could change the field.
But you don’t see that. No one seems to see that, except him and, undoubtedly, your advisor. So, when he pushes you, he know it looks like a personal attack. He knows it looks to you like he dislikes you for no apparent reason, because you’re just trying your best and he’s the department genius that thinks you’re beneath him. He knows how it looks, and he makes not a single move to fix it – because he’s seen, more than once, how what you think he is and what you think he’s doing has moved you to do revolutionary things.
He’s seen you do remarkable things with just a little bit of hatred. 
So he keeps it up, because maybe he hates you just a little bit, too. Maybe his own work is as unquestionable as it is because he’s secretly begging you to question it, begging you to give him that focused look and that critical eye that always makes his breath hitch. But you never give him what he wants, so he doesn’t either. He doesn’t give you the softspoken voice or the gentle, polite demeanor that he gives everyone else, even though he can see you yearning for it. He won’t give you that, not until you realize what you are – a genius, just the same as him.
When you come to him on October 16th, opening your life to him in ways he hadn’t expected, he means every word he says to you. It shouldn’t be him – it would get messy, the two of you having sex. He knows you had to have thought this through already, that you would never have approached him unless he was the absolute last option available, but he can’t bring himself to say yes to you. He knows you need the money, and there’s a non-insignificant part of him that actually wants to say yes. That wants to help you, because, despite how he feels about you, he can recognize the severity of the situation. Of the look in your eye, desperate and scared.
But he can’t bring himself to do it, because he knows that this intricately built web of hate and respect that you’ve built together is incredibly fragile. That whatever you two have – whatever this thing is that can’t be called friendship or anything close to it – would collapse and change. Keiji doesn’t like change. 
So he watches, over the course of October 17th, 18th, and 19th, as you become more desperate. 
He catches you dissociating more than once during your shared reading group meetings, and you don’t even pull your laptop out during the syntax class you TA together. You avoid his eyes for the duration of the 17th, but you seem to forget about him entirely the rest of the days, your gaze distant and stressed. You check your phone more than once during class, and he doesn’t dare look, because he’s certain you’re looking at your porn account for views and comments.
He catches you chasing after your advisor after group meetings, and he realizes quickly that the man’s aware of your financial situation, because he only shrugs regretfully and leaves you in the hall, staring down at nothing. He catches you turning down Bokuto’s lunchtime offer to hit up a bar on the evening of the 18th, and then he glances into your office the morning of the 19th – you’re staring blankly at the journal article on your desk, not reading a single word, and Keiji begins to understand how this might impact your research.
He confirms it that afternoon, a cloudy Thursday just before lunch. He’s passing his advisor’s office on the way to the grad student lounge, a can of iced coffee waiting with his name on it – but he stops short when he hears your voice inside.
“ ...have to find another job, ” you say, your voice clearly stressed. “ There’s no way to get an advance on next month’s paycheck from the department? ”
The old man sighs loudly. “ I’ll see what I can do, but you know these things don’t usually work like that. And they take time. I think another job’s the only option at the moment. ”
“ Okay, ” you say. “ In that case, I’m not sure what to do about my research- ”
Keiji inhales sharply, pressing his ear to the door. You’re not postponing your experiment, are you? You can’t. He knows he told you to push it as much as necessary for the case marking issues, but he hadn’t meant for it to be like this . 
“ Take some time to focus on your personal situation ,” your advisor says. “ Find a part-time job with stable hours, and we’ll work your research around it. It might double the time needed- ”
Double?!
Keiji’s starts to shake his head. No, that’s not possible. You can’t.
“ Fuck ,” he whispers, stomping off down the hall, his coffee entirely forgotten. God, is this really going to be the thing that brings you down? Is it really going to be this ? 
He barrels into his office and starts to pace the length of it. He thinks through your situation in extreme detail, rubbing at his brow and sighing in frustration every time he has to turn and pace the other way down his office. 
Obviously, you’ve thought through every option, but he runs through them anyway, if only to confirm for himself that you really are left with no option except finding a job and delaying the progress of your research.
Well, there’s one option.
One option that wouldn’t require you to put your energy toward applying for jobs and training for some side gig you have no interest in. One option that doesn’t require you to lose sleep or miss class or drop out of optional reading groups due to having to work somewhere across town. One option that would probably get you immediate payout, which he knows is the reason you started in the first place.
He looks at the little flip calendar on his desk. October 19th. 12 days until your rent is due. How long would it take you to apply for jobs? Would they let you start right away? When would you get your first paycheck?
Is finding a part-time job even a solution anymore?
“ Fuck! ” He throws himself down in his chair. There’s a very large part of him – the majority, even  – that’s concerned about your research progress. It’s unwarranted, his dedication to work that’s not his own. But it’s not even about that – it’s the fact that he knows how this will tear at you. How it will eat you alive, not being able to work on your research. How agonizing it’ll be, seeing the rest of your cohort progress while you struggle to pay rent. Because you think like he thinks, whether you’d like to admit it or not.
Maybe that’s the smaller part of him, too. The part that wants to help you because it’s you . Because, as much as he dislikes and even hates you at times, he wants to fix this for you. He wants things to be okay for you, because you’re a person with a life – a person in his life – and you don’t deserve the kind of torment you’re currently experiencing. He doesn’t want to see you crushed by the stress.
Not when there’s something he can do about it.
Akaashi texts you that night.
You sit, hunched, at your dining table, frantically fixing your resumé and sending it off to different cafes, restaurants, and bars all over Tokyo. You’ve been applying all week – two places have already rejected you, saying they’re only hiring full-time workers, and one place has scheduled an interview with you, but it’s over a week away.
You’re staring intensely at your laptop, pushing down the continuous sense of dread by finding more and more places to apply. You barely notice when your phone buzzes next to you, and you pick it up without looking, thinking it’ll be one of your friends sending a meme to the group chat.
[7:59 PM]
Akaashi: i’ll do it.
You stare down at your phone, unseeing. Your ears start to buzz, and your vision goes blurry for a moment.
He’ll do it? He’ll-
You press call before you can think of anything. He picks up on the first ring.
“ Hello? ”
“You’ll do it?” Your eyes focus in on a scuff on your hardwood floors, latching onto it so you don’t have to look at anything else. “Really?”
“ Yeah. I’ll do it. ”
“Why?”
There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and you eyebrows scrunch the longer it stretches on.
“ I could use a bit of extra money, too. Once you’re done paying rent. ”
It’s insultingly easy to spot that that’s bullshit, but you don’t press it. You can’t risk pressing this. Not when your solution – this miracle – is finally within reach.
“What about the other stuff?”
“ We’ll figure it out. I can draft up a contract and bring it by tomorrow, if that works for you. ”
“A contract?” You want to roll your eyes, because that’s incredibly Akaashi Keiji , but you also recognize that you hadn’t thought of that.
“ Are you in or not? ”
There’s no way in hell you’re passing this up.
“Yes-Sorry, I’m just… surprised. But, yes.”
“ Alright. Tomorrow afternoon? ”
“I’m free after 2.”
“ I’ll be there at 2:30. Send me your address. ”
“O…kay. Okay.”
You hear him swallow and shift on the other end, and then he mumbles, “ Okay. See you tomorrow. ”
You’re left with the dial tone, that scuff in the hardwood burned into your mind when you blink.
“Okay,” you say to no one.
The conversation had lasted 55 seconds.
He shows up at 2:29 on Friday, rapping three quick knocks on your door and scaring the shit out of you as you pace the living room nervously. You rush to get it, fixing your hair and clothes as you go and giving the room a cursory glance. You’re suddenly so nervous to exist in front of him, feeling your appearance and the cleanliness of your home under scrutiny even though he hasn’t seen either yet.
You pull the front door open, dragging your eyes up to meet his. He’s wearing a pair of black slacks and a tucked-in white button-down, the collar peeking through the top of the black sweater vest he’d fitted over it. His glasses, black and settled comfortably on the bridge of his nose, glint in the light and block you from seeing the look in his eye when you appear in front of him. And then he shifts his weight, and you see those deep blue eyes staring right into yours.
Akaashi adjusts his backpack on his shoulder. “Hi.”
You swallow hard. “Uh. Hi.” You step back quickly to let him in, and you try not to notice the subtle cologne he’s wearing when he brushes past you. Had he always worn cologne? “Thanks for coming.”
“Mhm,” he hums, slipping his sneakers off and setting them neatly to the side in your foyer. When he stands, you watch him cast his gaze across your living room and dining area, tucked into a corner by the kitchen. He steps into the living room, wandering slowly to the side of the couch while looking at the space. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to let this place go.”
High ceilings, lots of windows, and a small balcony. Hardwood floors and an open floorplan – the kitchen is visible past the island counter, two beams capping the ends of the bar to section the area off from the rest of the room. Your bedroom door is just past the couch, your roommate’s old room hidden down a narrow hallway with the bathroom. 
When you and your ex-roommate had found the place together, five years prior, rent had been cheaper and $500 hadn’t been considered a steal for a place like this. You’d managed to keep the landlord from raising the prices over the years, the two of you stellar tenants with not a single issue to note. That’s the only reason he’d let your roommate break her lease so suddenly – especially since you’d said you could take the entire thing over until you could find a new roommate.
Not that that new roommate would ever appear.
“Yeah,” you say, following Akaashi into the room and gesturing for him to sit. You move to the kitchen to get two glasses of water while he takes the corner and sets his backpack down at his feet. “I’ve made my home here. Would hate to start over, I guess.”
He looks around, eyeing all the decorations and furniture in the room. Your roommate had left you with the furniture, thankfully – this place would be barren otherwise. She’d even left her bed and the little couch in her room, reasoning that keeping the room furnished might encourage someone to move in. 
You’re not sure you’d ever tell her what you use that bed and couch for now, a conveniently placed “studio” right in your own home.
You join Akaashi on the couch, offering him the water and just nodding awkwardly when he thanks you for it. His fingers brush yours when he takes the glass, his attention still on the room, and you fight the blush that rises. There are a number of thoughts floating through your mind as you examine his fingers, but you shake your head to clear them, because technically no contracts have been signed, so you’re not allowed to think about how pretty his hands will look on camera.
“So…” you start. “What exactly did you have in mind for these contracts?”
He blinks, as though remembering why he’s here, and sets his glass down. “Right.” He rustles through his bag, extracting two sets of papers and handing one to you. “I… had to look up a template for this kind of contract-”
You snort despite yourself, because he’s blushing slightly at having to admit that he has no clue what he’s doing. He rolls his eyes but continues anyway. 
“I think it’s standard to just discuss expectations, boundaries, and-uh- preferences .” 
You flip the first page over, finding blank lines to fill in the terms of the agreement – and then a long checklist that spans about two more pages. It consists entirely of turn-ons, turn-offs, kinks (taboo or otherwise), and absolute non-negotiables. There’s another page with blank lines, the section titled ‘ Agreed Upon Consent System ’. 
You nod slowly. “You did your homework.”
“Did you forget who I am?”
You bark out a laugh, shaking your head as you look through the checklist again. “Sorry – is ‘Shibari ’ listed here because you know it, or because you expect that I might?”
He smothers a smile, but you catch the downward turn of his lips before it’s gone. “I didn’t want to make any assumptions.”
“Fair enough,” you sigh. And then you look at him. “And… you’re sure you’re okay with this?” When he just nods, meeting your eyes evenly, you watch him for a moment. “And you won’t, like, hold this over my head or something?”
His brows furrow for a moment before smoothing out. “No. Of course not.” You don’t respond, and he sighs. “I don’t benefit from hurting you, you know.”
You relax at that. You suppose that’s true – the two of you might not like each other, but it would be another level of messed up if Akaashi were to use this against you in any way..
“Okay. Sorry. I had to check.”
“Surprisingly, I’m above blackmail.”
You shake your head, wondering if he’d always been a little funny, or if this situation’s so ridiculous that you’re finding everything hilarious. “Okay, so – terms?”
He shifts his weight forward, leaning his elbows on his knee while he looks down at the first page of the contract. “I think payment’s the most important part right now.” You nod, watching as he retrieves a pen from his bag and clicks it a few times. “I was thinking… I take 20% of the cut for each video, but only when it wouldn’t prevent you from paying rent and bills?”
“How’d you decide on 20%?”
He shrugs. “I’m relatively comfortable financially, so I don’t need a large portion. And I don’t expect anything for the first few weeks, at least – not until your finances are settled.”
You watch the side of his face while he thinks – his lips pinch into a grimace and he shifts his head back and forth. He’d always been that way, from the beginning. He clicks his pen a few more times, and then he glances at you.
“Is that okay with you? I’m good for 10%, too.”
You shake your head right away. “No, of course not. 20% is completely reasonable.”
He nods, tapping his pen to the paper and writing out the agreement for payment. He sighs quietly. “Okay, next thing… What do you do for privacy?”
You take a breath. “I edit my face out of everything, and-” You stretch your foot out and lift your pant leg, displaying the small sunflower tattoo on the inside of your ankle. “-I edit that out, too.” You point down the hall. “I film in the spare bedroom, so that no one recognizes the stuff in my room. And I muffle some of the audio, so my voice isn’t easy to recognize. It would help, too, if we need to talk to each other.”
He nods, and then he starts to roll up the sleeve on his right arm. “Would it be hard to edit this out?” There’s a medium-sized tattoo on his forearm, a stretch of the moon cycles sketched in black across his skin.
“Oh, woah-” You scoot in on instinct, your fingers hovering over his milky skin. “When did you get this?”
“Last year, when I passed the Prelim.” His voice comes from over your head, quiet and low. You smile to yourself, examining the intricate line art. “I wanted to gift myself something.” You find it interesting to imagine Akaashi Keiji being nervous enough about passing the milestone between doctoral student and doctoral candidate, so much that he’d promised himself something if he were to pass.
“Pretty cool gift,” you mumble, your fingers tracing the air over his skin but never making contact. He lowers his arm, and you seem to realize only now how close you are. You meet his eyes quickly, seeing the silent amusement in his gaze, and you scoot back to your spot. “Sorry.”
He says nothing of it, just nodding down to his arm. “Can you edit it?”
You squint at the art. “I can try, but if you move your arms a lot, it might be easier to cover it with makeup. We can test it – film from the other side, lower the camera so your arm’s out of frame. That kind of thing.”
He nods, rolling his sleeve down again. You look away from his hands as he works, taking the moment instead to reflect on how business-like this conversation is. You’d expected more discomfort, given the circumstances. But you both treat it with detachment and only a few hiccups that can be recovered easily. It’s oddly easy, in a way that you can’t imagine with Bokuto or Kuroo – perhaps because of how much history you have with them, how much would be changing by entering into this kind of agreement together.
There’s nothing holding you and Akaashi together that would prevent you from doing business together in this way. It’s reassuring to realize that.
Akaashi buttons the cuff on his sleeve again and reaches for the pen, jotting down the terms of privacy. He glances at you briefly. “About who we can tell…”
Your heart jumps. “No one, preferably.”
“Right,” he says. “But if someone were to find out on accident, or if someone puts together that we’re having sex… what do we say?”
“Oh…” You tap your nails on your thigh. “Just that we’re hooking up?”
He nods. “That’s fine. I also think it’s fine if you decide to tell someone what we’re actually doing.” He cuts you short when you open your mouth to protest. “ I won’t tell anyone, because this isn’t my financial situation and this wasn’t my idea. This is your business, and I’m mindful of that. But I think it’s perfectly possible that you might end up wanting to tell someone, for whatever reason. And I think that’s your prerogative, so I don’t mind if you tell them that I’m part of it.” He takes a breath, smiling to himself when he considers something. “Uh, but – maybe don’t show them anything.”
“Oh, God, I would never,” you reassure him, shaking your head. “That’s a huge violation. And I don’t expect that I’ll want to tell anyone-”
“Still,” he argues. “It’s good to have the option. If you’re stressed or need a friend.”
“Well, what if you want to tell someone? What if you need a friend?”
His eyebrows tent in amusement, and he sighs. “How about we just agree to ask each other first? Whatever the reason.”
You take a breath. “Okay. I’m okay with that – reserving the right to say no?”
“Of course,” he says plainly, adding that to the terms.
You nod, sighing shakily. You feel an odd sense of trust with him – that he’s good for his word, because he’s, more often than not, honest to a fault.
“Anything… else?” you ask. “Before we get to the… technical parts?”
He snorts through his nose while he writes, and you’re reminded of the absurdity of the situation. “Yeah, just one more thing.” He purses his lips now, not meeting your eyes. “When was your last health visit?”
“Oh!” You blink rapidly, realizing what he’s asking. “Oh, I’m clean. I get a yearly health check, and I haven’t had sex in– I dunno, probably two or three years, so I’m good,” you ramble, laughing to yourself as you brush off his concern. Then you stop, because he’s looking at you like he’s fighting laughter himself, and you register what you’d said. That you’d just admitted to him that you haven’t gotten laid in three years . “Uh-”
He shakes his head. “Good to know. And it’s been at least a year for me, too.” He reaches into his bag, retrieving a sheet of paper. “But I brought this, in case you needed it-” He starts to hand it to you, and you piece together quickly that this is his health check. You take it, only glancing at the date to confirm that it was, in fact, done today.
“You went to the doctor today?”
He blinks. “I thought it would be best.”
You gape at him. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have believed you.” You glance around your living room. “I don’t even know where my sheet is- I went two months ago-”
“I don’t need to see it,” he says, shaking his head. “I believe you.”
“Dude! You can’t have all these weird, anti-double-standards.” You throw your hands up and hand him his health check back, and then you stand, moving to the file cabinet in the corner. “I’m finding that little fucker-”
“ Y/n ,” Akaashi laughs, and you pause, if only because you’ve never heard your name like that from him. He looks more visibly relaxed, too, now that you look at him properly. “It’s fine . If you want to find it, find it later.”
You sigh, staring him down a moment but returning to the couch nonetheless. He tries to hand you the health check again, but you brush it off with a grumble. “I don’t need your stupid health check, damn it.”
“I went through the trouble of getting it,” he argues, lifting his brows with a smug tilt of his head. You glare, snatching it from him but leaving it on the coffee table.
“What else, huh?” You bark, half-joking. “Got any other surprises for me?”
“No,” he says with a patient shake of his head, his lips tugging his smile away. “We can get to the technical part.”
You sigh, lifting your copy of the contract from the table and leafing through it. “So, I post every day on a consistent schedule. Obviously, I don’t want you to give up every evening of your week to film for the next day’s post, nor do I have the time.”
“And it would look weird – both of us becoming suddenly unavailable to see our friends every night,” he reasons, and you nod.
“Exactly. You have a life, and so do I. I usually batch all my content one night a week, and then I spend a few hours the next night editing everything and scheduling it to post.”
“You’ve really thought this through,” he comments quietly, also leafing through his contract. You warm, realizing it’s a compliment. 
“ Thanks ,” you mutter. “I’d hoped it would have yielded better results, but at least I have a consistent schedule now.” You return to your proposal. “I think filming partner content will take longer, naturally, but I don’t want us meeting every night, so how’s twice a week? Five or six hours each?”
He hums and nods right away. “Makes sense. And we can change the days every week, so we’re not both conveniently missing every single, say, Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Yeah, good point.” He writes it down, and you clear your throat. “And I don’t think we should kiss,” you suggest, your voice quiet.
“I agree.” He doesn’t think twice about it, just writing it on the next line, and relief fills you. You hadn’t been sure how to bring up to him the fact that you find kissing personal and intimate in a way that you aren’t comfortable experiencing with him. It would probably offend you if he were anyone else – the way he agrees immediately – but you know he’s only thinking about this as logically as you are.
You appreciate, for once, that you and Akaashi Keiji think so similarly.
“And,” you start, clapping your hands as you realize something suddenly. “As for protection-”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, reaching down into his bag. 
He drops a box of condoms on the table, size large.
You stare down at it dumbly. “Oh. Okay. That’s-” You’re not sure you’d ever expected to be in the know about the size of Akaashi’s-
“I was at the store and didn’t want to forget.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine, it’s just-” You smile to yourself, a little embarrassed to know this. “Videos with condoms don’t really do as well as videos without.”
You feel his eyes on the side of your face. “I… did not know that,” he says. “But I can understand why.”
You swallow, handing the condoms back to him with an awkward grin. “I’m on the pill, is what I wanted to say.” You’re glad to see that the apples of his cheeks are becoming rosy.
“Got it,” he says, turning to put the box in his bag again. He scribbles ‘ birth control ’ haphazardly on the sheet, and you let out an accidental snicker. He shakes his head at it, and you catch the grin on his face just as he’s turning away.
“Uh,” you start, trying not to laugh again. “I was also thinking pet names might be necessary.”
“Oh, if we need to talk to each other,” he realizes, nodding. “Yeah. Do you have a preference?”
“I think that question might be better for you,” you muse. “I’m good with most things-”
“ Sweetheart ? Princess ? Pretty girl or baby girl ? Darling ?” he asks without thinking. You watch his mouth move, words you’d never expected from him just falling from his lips like nothing. 
“S-Sure. That’s all fine with me.”
“Okay,” he says. “I think for me… I mean, baby ’s fine. I’m not really into the… more stereotypical names.”
You tilt your head. “What, like daddy ?”
He grimaces. “Yeah, that’s not my thing-” He cuts a glance at you. “Sorry, if it’s yours.”
You smile wide now, utterly amused. “Can’t say it is. But – are you a dom, Akaashi? Or a sub.”
“Why?” he says, a single eyebrow lifting as his lips quirk in a grin. “Because I like to be called baby ?”
“I’m just curious,” you say, feigning a seriousness you simply don’t feel.
“Well, be curious in bed, not now.”
You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. “Yes, Sir.” His fingers twitch on his pen, and your eyebrows lift with interest. You lean forward. “ Sir ? Is that it?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“But you reacted when I said it-”
He rolls his eyes and starts to flip the page toward the checklist of preferences. “It’s not what you said, it’s how you said it.” 
“How’d I say it?”
He stands, glancing down the hall. “Like a brat.” Your smile drops, right along with your stomach. It flips violently, and your fingers start to tingle, but he barely gives you a second look. “Give me a tour of the spare bedroom? While we go through these.”
Your legs shake when you stand. “Sure.” You lead him down the hall, contract clutched in your hand and heart in your throat. You weren’t prepared to hear that from him.
You push the door open, letting him in. He wanders to the center of the room, turning in place. You’d put plain white sheets on the bed, the comforter a deep red color. The couch in the corner is covered in a pale green sheet, and there are a few throw pillows and blankets laid over the arm and back of it. There’s an empty desk in the corner, one that Akaashi eyes with an amused lift of his brow. 
“It’s nice in here,” he says blankly, his eyes still tracking the decor in the room. It’s all plain enough not to be recognizable, but the room is comfortable to be in. You’d put string lights all around the wall, your phone equipped with an app to change the colors whenever. You’ve got one tripod for your phone near the bed and another near the couch, and there’s a chest at the end of the bed. Akaashi taps it with his foot.
“Functional or just decoration?” Your harsh flush is his answer, and he reaches for the latch, pausing for permission once he’s got his fingers on it. You nod curtly, and he drops his contract and pen on the bed so he can crouch by the chest and lift the top with both hands.
He gives you no indication of his thoughts when he looks inside – it’s filled with sex toys, harnesses, props, and basically anything else you thought might be useful. Looking at it now, you’re certain it looks like you’re into a lot of interesting things, but he only glances at you for a second round of permission before he reaches in. He seems to understand that it’s one thing to look and another entirely to touch , but you give him that permission, too.
The first thing he extracts is a whip. “Have you ever used this?”
You smile emptily. “On myself, once. Wasn’t very fun. And I didn’t upload the video.”
He sets it back inside gently. “I prefer to use my hands, if that’s okay.”
“Oh.” You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to this. “Sure.”
He spends the next few minutes quietly pulling out a variety of dildos, butt plugs, and vibrators and laying them neatly on the bed, side by side. You grow warmer with each one, unsure what to do with this situation. He also retrieves a stretch of black cloth that you’d used once to blindfold yourself. It hadn’t gone as well as you’d hoped.
He stands with it now, tugging on it experimentally. “I like this.”
“Okay.”
He nods to the items on the bed. “I like all those, too-” He glances down and reaches into the chest again, setting a bottle of lube next to the vibrator on the end.
You approach him finally, standing beside him as you survey the collection. “Okay. Why?”
He picks up his contract, scanning the list and pointing to your bed as he speaks. “Guided masturbation.” He points to the dildos and the vibrators. He points next to the butt plugs. “Anal-”
“Oh, I’ve-” You fidget with your fingers. “I have yet to be successful with that.” He stares down at you in confusion, and then gestures to the fact that there are three of them on the bed, varying in size. You smile pitifully up at him. “I thought the issue was the size.”
“O…kay,” he says with a breath of laughter. “We don’t have to include anal-”
“No, I’m…” You chuckle to yourself. “I’m not opposed… obviously.”
There’s a long moment of eye contact, one where you become incredibly warm and his lips fight to tug into a smirk, but he eventually turns back to his contract. 
“Understood.”
You wonder how much longer this torture will last.
He moves to the couch, sighing quietly and clicking his pen again. You’re starting to get the idea that that’s a nervous tick. “Should we just go one at a time and say yes or no?”
“Okay. Sure.” You close the lid of the chest and sit on it, ignoring the pile of toys behind you. 
You spend the next ten minutes that way, voting on a list of kinks with Akaashi Keiji, as though you haven’t spent the last five years dreading every second with him. You learn that he’s into choking – giving and receiving – but that he prefers giving oral more than receiving it. You tell him that you like being tied up but that you’ve never tried it with a partner before, and then you admit to a slight oral fixation. He jokes dryly that you’d have to settle for his fingers in your mouth, in that case, and you bite back a warning that the oral fixation includes marking your partners up where others can see. He only lifts a brow and asks if he should check off ‘ exhibitionist ’, and you joke that your balcony isn’t visible from the street. You ask more certainly if he’s a dom, because it’s becoming obvious that he is, and he rolls his eyes and asks if you’re always this bratty.
The list goes on and on, and you’re surprised by how honest both of you are being. He checks ‘ dacryphilia ’, and you tell him with waning embarrassment that he can go ahead and check ‘ somnophilia ’ while he’s at it. Even things you’ve never tried but have been quietly interested in make the list, and you wonder if maybe it’s because this is a chance to try all those things without fear of judgment from the person you’re doing it with. There’s no pressure with Akaashi, because there’s no crushing fear that he’s going to find you strange or uncomfortable. 
He’d shrugged and nodded when you’d said the word somnophilia, for fuck’s sake. He utters the words ‘ temperature play’ , ‘ overstimulation ’, and ‘ ruined orgasm ’ with ease, and you rattle off ‘ edging ’, ‘ praise ’, and ‘ dirty talk ’ like it’s nothing. There’s nothing to worry about with him.
Eventually, he sighs, turning to the last page of the contract, which only has the ‘ Agreed Upon Consent System ’ section and lines for your signatures. “And… is it alright if I’m a little mean?”
You tilt your head at him, your embarrassment long forgotten. “Like, degradation? Calling me names?”
He hums and then shakes his head. “Not exactly.” He thinks for a moment. “More like… disinterest.”
“Oh.” You consider it. “I suppose that’s a kind of degradation.”
“I suppose it is.” He shifts. “Just worried, since you mentioned praise.”
You feel a little embarrassment now. “Well, is there a way to do both?”
His smile is surprised, and he ducks his head when he laughs. “Yeah, I think there might be. Disinterested praise.”
“Yeah, see? Just make sure not to smile at me when you say nice things,” you joke.
He shakes his head and then taps the paper. “What’s our consent system?”
You shrug. “I’m only really familiar with the color system.”
“Green, yellow, red?” he asks, already starting to write it down. You hum in agreement, and he holds the contract up when he’s done. “Okay. I’m ready to sign if you are.”
You leave your blank copy on the bed and hop off the chest, joining him on the couch. You watch as he signs his name and marks the date on one of the lines – he hands you the pen after, and you do the same, your name sitting neatly under his. 
“Okay,” you breathe, staring down at the paper with fresh eyes. He nods beside you, and then he turns his head. You feel his eyes on you, so you meet them, and he sticks his hand out to you.
“Let’s get you your rent money.”
You can’t help but laugh when you take his hand, shaking it firmly.
He texts you later that night, after you’ve had time to lie in your bed and process what’s just happened. 
You feel, weirdly enough, more comfortable with him – not completely, and certainly nothing of the friendly sort, but you feel like the afternoon hadn’t been that tense or difficult. It had mostly been awkward and a little funny, which is only to be expected in this situation. It makes you wonder, while you’re showering and making dinner, if maybe Akaashi’s not all that bad outside of an academic context.
Of course, things between you inside an academic context are so hostile that it had always bled over into whatever social interactions you’d been forced into by your mutual friends. You can’t imagine that those things will change anytime soon – it feels strange to picture Akaashi as anything but rude and torturous within the department, and you find that you’re not so enthused at the idea of him suddenly warming up to you. You like how things are between you. You like him just how he is, predictably annoying and cold.
So, when he texts you, you’re unsurprised that your guards go up.
[10:16 PM]
Akaashi: i need your account name + site
[10:18 PM]
Akaashi: please
You feel the floor drop out from under you, and you answer in a frenzy.
[10:19 PM]
You: no fucking way
Akaashi: ???????
Akaashi: i need to study before tomorrow??????
Yes, you’d agreed to spend the majority of the day tomorrow batching content for the week. But you have no idea why you hadn’t anticipated this. 
Aghast, you don’t bother typing, just jabbing down on the button to record a voice note.
“You need to study?! ” You say, exasperated. “My body’s all over that account! I’m doing a lot of things on that account! Naked things!”
You send it and wait, pacing the space around your bed. He sends a voice note back. You click play with a shaky thumb.
“ Are you insane?” he says, and you hear that he’s laughing at you. You swell with annoyance as he talks. “ Did you plan to have sex with me with all your clothes on? ” You roll your eyes, sitting at the edge of your bed. 
“Yeah, that was a stupid point,” you mumble to yourself.
“ I need to see what the general aesthetic of your account is, okay? To see how you film. ”
You press the microphone again to record. “Yeah, but this feels super unfair! You’ll have seen my whole body, and I won’t have seen yours – this is skewed!”
He texts back this time.
[10:23 PM]
Akaashi: oh, sorry. let me link you to my porn account, too, then.
Akaashi: are you hearing yourself???
You groan, throwing yourself back on your mattress. You know he’s right, but it’s terrifying to know that Akaashi will have seen you naked – more than naked, really – and you will have no clue what you’re walking into tomorrow. Still, you just flail on your bed a few times in protest before sighing and lifting your phone to your face.
[10:26 PM]
You: xxxvids .com
You: username tokyolovely
You throw your phone down and roll over to bury your face in the mattress, screaming into the comforter when your phone buzzes with his response.
Akaashi: … no comment.
You want to smack him.
Akaashi: and why couldnt you choose one of the big sites that everyone else posts on???
Akaashi: onlyfans?? pornhub even???
Akaashi: i swear to god if i get a virus from xxxvids .com
Akaashi: rent is not the only expense youll need to worry about
You definitely want to smack him.
Keiji throws his phone down on his desk, shaking his head with a sigh.
“What even is that?” he mumbles to himself, typing the site into his laptop. “ XXXVid- This is so stupid. Just use PornHub at that point.”
He’s accosted immediately by thumbnails of naked women and men with penises that just have to be cosmetically enlarged. He plugs his headphones in quickly, very much not needing any audio surprises from this site, and makes an account, rolling his eyes when he needs to come up with a username.
When he’s done, he types your name into the search bar.
“ Tokyo…lovely, ” he says as he types, and then his middle finger hovers over the Enter key. 
His goal really is just to look at how you’ve set up your account. He just wants to see the general tone of your channel. If you’re loud or quiet. If you’ve marketed yourself as one of those gentle, virginal girls or as a sex freak that makes a lot of noise. He needs to know these things, so he knows how to perform tomorrow. It’s logical. It makes sense.
But still, he sits here, finger hovering over the key while he contemplates it. He’d gone through the entire contract with you and revealed his deepest interests – previously experienced or otherwise. But this feels like a move he can’t take back. Once he does this, he will have seen your body, and that’s irreversible.
You agreed to this, you idiot.
He groans, jamming his finger down on the key before he can think further about it. The website buffers long enough that he wonders about that virus again, and then it loads.
Oh.
His heart jumps, and he finds himself looking away from his screen and glancing nervously around his living room, as though he doesn’t live completely alone. And then he looks back, met with the sight of your body.
He can only tell it’s you because he knows it’s you, and – looking at you in a set of black lingerie in the first thumbnail – this body looks like yours. The next thumbnail has you in a mismatched bra-panty pair, and, in the video after, you’re not wearing anything at all. He sucks in a breath, glancing away every few seconds while he scrolls, because it feels wrong to stare. He focuses on the titles, testing every ounce of his reading comprehension in this moment.
[Oct. 19] Shy Girl Fingers Herself to Orgasm
“Shy?” he mumbles, shaking his head. “Yeah, right.”
[Oct. 18] Virgin Sends Masturbation Video to Boyfriend
“Not a virgin,” he says. “No boyfriend.”
[Oct. 17] Girl Makes Herself Squirt on Friend’s Couch
“Not a friend’s cou-Wait.” He blinks. 
You can squirt ?
The room becomes noticeably warmer as he stares down at the little thumbnail of you curled up on the couch in your spare room. He’d intended to watch one video, just to see the extent of your editing, but he’d meant only to skim through it, skipping parts and examining the video from a purely analytic standpoint.
But… Well, if he’s going to watch one, anyway… 
He drags his mouse over it, about to click into it, when a pop-up banner appears from the left side of his screen.
TOKYOLOVELY IS ACTIVE NOW – SAY HI!
Keiji jumps, feeling as though he’s been caught doing something awful. And then he sighs heatedly and clicks on the banner, watching it open to an empty chat box.
[10:35 PM]
tokyohandsome: stop anxiously scrolling through your own videos
tokyolovely: YOU FUCK, YOU CHOSE THAT NAME ON PURPOSE
tokyohandsome: get offline, tokyolovely
tokyolovely: youre not allowed to watch the one of me with that dildo in doggy
Keiji blinks hard. The what ? Where you’re what ?
tokyohandsome: go to bed, youre driving me nuts
tokyohandsome: wait-
tokyohandsome: can you see which video i view????
tokyolovely: …. if i say yes will you exit this website
tokyohandsome: ill take that as a no.
tokyolovely: YOU HAVE TO TELL ME WHICH ONE YOU WATCH
tokyohandsome: goodnight, lovely <3 
tokyolovely: i hate you.
He laughs to himself, bright and hidden in his hand.
tokyohandsome: do you get paid for interacting with viewers in dms?
tokyolovely: yes.
tokyohandsome: do i decide how much they give you?
tokyolovely: … it’s a rating after i log off.
tokyohandsome: then you better say goodnight to me and log off, lovely <3
tokyolovely: ….. goodnight, handsome.
tokyohandsome: :((
tokyolovely: …. <3
tokyohandsome: :))
TOKYOLOVELY HAS LOGGED OFF
He sighs, pleased, and gives you a five-star rating like he’d always intended, closing the chat. He’s tempted to go looking for that video of you in doggy position, but he respects your hyper-specific request and returns to the video he’d originally seen. He clicks on it now, nerves a bit eased after that absurd interaction with you, and settles back in his chair.
The video starts with you in your underwear, touching yourself gently through the fabric. He watches with distant interest as you squeeze your breasts through your bra and then drop one hand to the spot between your thighs that’s currently hidden by how you’re curled up. You touch yourself vaguely, and he hears the beginnings of a moan, quiet in his headphones.
The sound grows the longer you continue, and he wonders if those moans sound faked because they’re obviously so or because he knows you. From the many years of hearing your voice – albeit never in this situation – he can’t imagine that this is what you would actually sound like if you were feeling good. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he watches you start to slide the panties down your thighs. 
He’s certain he can pull better sounds out of you than that.
He watches a few moments longer, genuinely critiquing the video and your performance, if only to gauge how he should act, too. 
But then you drop your panties on the couch beside you, sighing breathily, and move to unhook your bra. Keiji’s eyebrows lift as you slip the straps off, and suddenly he’s not thinking about things he plans to do differently as your business partner.
You prop your feet up on the couch and spread your legs, and he spreads his, too, unconsciously, eyes dropping to your exposed core. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips, and he shifts in his seat, his sweats becoming suspiciously tight. He watches you on his laptop screen – the way your fingertips swipe over your clit in two tight circles before dropping to your entrance – and he swallows, committing the motion to memory, because he’s here to study. To study .
He blinks hard, shifting again and ignoring the way his cock twitches in his pants and strains against the band. He watches you dip both fingers into your entrance before slipping out, and he has the torturous thought that your fingers look a lot smaller than his. You repeat the motion three or four times, working yourself open until you can fit both fingers up to the knuckles. 
You moan in Keiji’s ears, loud and a little gratuitous – but he moans back.
He palms himself through his sweats, watching you finger yourself. His breath hitches, and his stomach swirls with nerves, and he feels a wave of desire crash over him.
And then he hears your voice, in that note you’d sent him.
‘-feels super unfair – You’ll have seen my whole body, and I won’t have seen yours-’
He groans, throwing his head back against his chair briefly, and reaches for his phone before he can overthink.
“ Fuck it, ” he mumbles in a strained voice, opening the camera and propping his phone up against the stack of books on his desk. 
He presses record.
At 11pm, you get a text.
You’ve sat on your bed the last thirty minutes, scrolling through Twitter absentmindedly as you think about what Akaashi could be watching. You wonder if he’s actually watched anything, or if he’s just skimming the thumbnails and titles, or maybe if he’d just logged off right after you, satisfied with teasing you a little. 
You feel painfully vulnerable in your state of not knowing. You have no clue what you’re walking into tomorrow. At least before, you were partially comforted in that neither of you had seen the other naked, and also in that neither of you had been with someone else in at least a year. There had been an air of safety, knowing that you and Akaashi were on relatively equal ground.
You’re horribly underground, now.
So, when his first text comes through, the banner pulling down over the top of your screen, you think the worst.
[10:59 PM] 
Akaashi : [Video Attached]
What is that? What did he do? Did he record your videos on his phone? Is he commenting on them? At the very worst, he’s making fun of you, and at the very best, he’s offering you tips to improve your filming or editing. You really don’t know which you hate more.
But then his second text comes in, this banner replacing the last.
Akaashi: making it a little less unfair.
“ What? ” you mumble, brows furrowed as you click on the notification. Your phone jumps to the text thread, and you squint at the thumbnail of the video. It’s just him leaning toward the camera with a furrowed brow, seated at his desk in grey sweats and a white t-shirt, with his glasses perched on his nose and his hair slightly wet from what’s probably a recent shower. He’s got headphones in, and there’s something bright on his laptop screen.
It’s the glare in the corner of his glasses, a reflection of his laptop screen, that makes your heart leap.
You know that pale green sheet.
“What… the fuck …?” You bring the phone close to your face, too scared to press play . “Is that asshole live-reacting to my video?” With a trembling finger, your click on the video.
And you realize immediately what’s happening.
Akaashi settles back in his chair with a heated sigh, his tongue darting out as he watches his screen. It’s because he leaned back that you can see properly now – the tent in his pants, the hand he presses over the outline of his cock with a quiet sigh.
Your jaw drops. He’s-
His eyes track your movement on the screen, which you can now see clearly in the glare of his glasses, and his bottom lip catches between his teeth. He breathes hard, palming himself through his sweats as he watches your video. He glances once at his own camera, clearly nervous about recording this, but then his eyes widen and fly to his screen, whatever sound you’d just made in his headphones drawing his attention completely.
“ Oh, f- ” He purses his lips, and you feel yourself leaning in, wanting to hear what he’d been about to say. He blinks rapidly, eyes trained on one spot – you can see exactly which video it is now, and your heart jumps when you recognize the way your own body moves in the reflection of his glasses.
So that’s what he’s into.
You spend so long staring at the reflection in his glasses that you nearly miss the way he starts to move. You drop your eyes in time to catch him lifting his hips just enough to slide his sweats down to his thighs. He tucks one hand into his boxers, and you watch with parted lips as Akaashi Keiji’s eyes roll back into his head.
“ Fuck, ” he breathes, his head dropping back momentarily, and your mouth falls open more, your brain stunned into nothingness as you watch him masturbate to a video of you masturbating. As you realize that this isn’t just anyone watching one of your videos – liking one of your videos.
This is Akaashi Keiji.
Akaashi Keiji’s just given you the confirmation that you’re good at this, after so many weeks of feeling quite the opposite.
“Oh,” you breathe, the sticky heat of understanding washing over your skin. It worsens when he uses his free hand to tug his boxers down, making this ground feel suddenly a lot more equal.
Oh.
Akaashi keeps his eyes glued to his screen, and you catch a glimpse of your on-screen self coming more and more undone. You examine him closely while he watches it, too – his lips are swollen and wet from pursing and biting at them, and there’s a flush high on his cheeks and a hooded, hazy quality to his eyes that makes your stomach flip with nerves. His tongue darts out again, wetting his pink lips just as he’s parting them to sigh. 
Your eyes drop, watching how he slides his palm against his cock, slick with precum and making the most impolite, soft squelching sound whenever he flicks his wrist. Your thighs press together instinctively, a hard throb pulsing through your core when his hips jerk slightly. 
His breathing speeds up, as does the flick of his wrist, and you realize in the reflection that you must be starting to squirt. Akaashi grips the arm of his desk chair with his free hand and presses his lips together, his moan muffled but still audible. His hips jerk and stutter, and then his eyes roll back into his head again as he comes all over his hand and stomach, streaks of white painting the back of his hand and wrist.
His lips part in a gasp and a rough sigh as he’s coming down, and he slumps against his chair, breathing hard as he stares at nothing – the screen is dark in his glasses now. He drags his clean hand through his hair, tugging hard and breathing out a soft ‘ fuck ’. He breathes twice more, and then his eyes flick to his camera, as though he’s only just remembered it’s there.
He sees himself in the video and rolls his eyes immediately, a breathless laugh leaving him as he shakes his head and looks away.
“ Uh, ” he says, still laughing. He leans forward, reaching with his free hand for the phone, and shakes his head again. “ See you tomorrow, I guess.”
The video cuts there, leaving you with silence and a sudden, overwhelming attraction to Akaashi Keiji.
Oh.
471 notes · View notes
kindestofkings · 1 year ago
Text
what came first, the chicken or the dickhead?
[smau]
f1driver!reader x lando norris (eventually, friends to lovers ofc)
authors note: this is so dramatic and for what! sorry to pierre for making you the villian, and lets pretend ferrari isnt as shit as it currently is! lol enjoy, would love to know what you think <333
yourusername
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yourusername tough day in the office today, mexico '22 is just not to be I guess. As always a learning curve and we will grow from todays DNF 😞
See you soon Brazil !!
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ynfan1 we are still so proud of you! keep pushing 👍
f1fan this is literally what you get for trying to compete in a MALE sport
f1fan2 fr she's bringing down pierre and the team f1fan3 too emotional for the big leagues ynfan2 stfu you do realise your favourite MALE drivers dnf all the time aswell
alphataurif1 we come back stronger!!
yourusername 👊👊
alex_albon lily is wondering would going for ice cream cheer you up?
yourusername I love her, yes please 🥹 landonorris I'm coming yourusername nuh huh its for us pointless drivers! landonorris come on it was only 2..
f1fan4 lando norizz trying to make it a double date lollll
f1fan5 bro chill these two have been friends since literal birth
alphataurif1
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alphataurif1 the difference 2 weeks can make! our girl yourusername is starting pole position on sunday here in brazil 🔥
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yourusername woohoo roll on sunday!!
ynfan1 go bestie go !
ynfan2 AT moving up💪
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yourusername great work achieved today, the car and track felt good. hopefully we can convert this position into some points to finish of the season on a high, all we need is team work on the track (and for max's alarm to not go off so he misses the race 😀)
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maxverstappen1 why the personal attack
yourusername WHY do you have to win every week, surely you are bored by it by now ... charles_leclerc I agree, maybe take a week off? f1fan2 hahah these two i'm obsessed
landonorris please do well but not TOO well, just stay behind me 👍
yourusername and look at your ass all race? hard pass
ynfan1 that mention of teamwork is a lil suss...
ynfan2 not really?? it is a team sport ynfan1 yeah but do you not find it weird how unfriendly yourusername and pierregasly are, despite them being on the same team? f1fan tbf I have always noticed how forced their videos are together. and they dont even follow each other
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris and others 
yourusername lollll ruining my career one interview at a time, but at least we hit the clubs looking fire 🔥
p.s. I stand by what I've said I only have apologies for two people 1) my pr manager (who I dont pay enough for this) and 2) charles for linking your name to this hot mess!
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landonorris it's so great being the unproblematic one 😎
yourusername does mcclaren need another golden driver from bristol??? I fear im out of a seat soon .. ynfan1 this is so sad you are way to talented of a driver to be out of a suit
charles_leclerc No worries 😅 Just make sure you buy me dinner next time before dragging me into the chaos. 🍽️🤷‍♂️
yourusername you got it prince of monaco! f1fan2 PLEASE PLEASE DATE ynfan2 ewww no her and lando are so so in love they're just too blind and stupid
danielricciardo absolute legend behaviour mate!!
yourusername learning from the best danny ric 😎
alphataurif1 and yourusername
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alphataurif1 From grid battles to glory laps! 🏁✨ Our unstoppable driver just clinched her FIRST WIN at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix! 🏆 Watch out, world – she's rewriting the history books and leaving her mark on the track. 🚀🌟
#AlphaQueen #AbuDhabiWinner
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danielricciardo What a race! Big congrats, yourusername. That first win feeling is something else! Enjoy every moment!
alex_albon: absolutely smashed it! huge congratulations on your first win!
carlossainz55 felicidades!!
susie_wolff: breaking barriers and making history! huge congratulations on your first win!
yourusername AHHHHH I CANT BELIEVE IT ! I LOVE YOU TEAM !!
ynfan1 lando where is your congrats you are slippinnn!!
landonorris
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Liked by yourusername and others
landonorris I've never been this happy to lose, but it's pretty cool seeing your best friend win in her rookie year. EVEN if she beaten me to it 😞
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yourusername LANDOOOO you are a the bestest friend ever
yourusername would not have gotten here with out you, my partner in crime <3
ynfan1 best friend?? y'all are still so blind
f1fan everytime you call her your best friend you reaffirm the lando NORIZZ name
danielricciardo facts alex_albon facts carlossainz55 facts charles_leclerc facts yukitsunoda0511 facts maxverstappen1 facts landonorris CAN YOU SHUT UP
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scuderiaferrari
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scuderiaferrari oh we thought we should just let you know our driver line up for 2023 👀 say hello to the dynamic addition to the Ferrari family, the wonderfully feisty yourusername! get ready for a season full of speed, passion, and fierce competition. Welcome to Maranello! 🇮🇹
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ynfan1 HOLY F*CK
susie_wolff wow congrats yourusername!! wishing you all the best !
yourusername thank you so much susie! your advice the last few weeks has help me so much ! ynfan1 I love when girls support girls 💓
yourusername can't wait to get started! forza ferrari ❤️❤️
charles_leclerc this is going to be incredible! congrats !!
yourusername thank you charles <33 be prepared to be sick of me lol ynfan1 so happy shes got a teammate who acc is a decent guy
ynfan2 LOLLLL I bet pierre is sick
landonorris slayed 💅
yourusername 😂😂 f1fan watch out mr norizz her new teammate is mr steal-your-girl
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javier-pena · 6 months ago
Text
pull (a joel miller drabble)
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 854
Rating: Explicit
Summary: You discover something new about Joel.
Warnings: unprotected p in v sex | rough Joel | hair pulling | creampie | biting | (allusions to) oral (f receiving)
Notes: lmao I just quickly had to write this, inspired by this first look at season 2 that made me feel like a Victorian lady who needs to go to the seaside for her constitution, @ravensmadreads - I saw your tags and on my post from like half an hour ago, so here it is.
***
"That's it, that's it," he groans, his eyes closed tightly in concentration as he focuses entirely on feeling you around his cock. You want to focus too, on how he fills you, on how firmly you can clench around him, but there is something you want more – to stare at him in wonder and adoration.
That he came back to you today is a miracle, that you are straddling him now while he sits on your couch, legs spread widely, letting you roll your hips against him … you never want to take that for granted again. Usually, when he almost dies or you almost die, you don’t fuck like this. Usually, he takes the lead, more determined, sometimes more violent than you, until he has made sure you will not disappear from beneath him, that you’re real and solid and here. Today is different.
His breath hitches as he moves beneath you, and changes the angle ever so slightly. You clench around him, hard, your mouth falling open to shape a surprised O. That’s when his eyes fly open and he smirks up at you, a look you could paint from memory, one you can see so clearly even in the dimness of the room.
“You’re always so tight for me,” he mumbles against your neck, kissing you first just below your ear, then right above your collarbone. And then he bites down, ruthlessly, right into a tendon jutting out of your neck.
Your breath hitches as pain shoots through you. There it is, that brutal, almost violent side of him you love so much, and your world starts to make more sense again.
He’s licking the spot he bit, the one that will probably show the marks of his teeth for a while, when you raise your hand and dig your fingers right into his curls, pulling him away from you. His neck, stretched by the sudden movement, is all exposed now, his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he assesses the challenge you’re presenting him with.
Like a cat trying not to get caught, he moves his mouth closer to your throat again, not breaking eye contact, silently daring you to do something about it. You let go of his curls, brush them back, relishing how smooth they feel beneath your fingers, how they curl tightly at the back of his neck. And that’s where you dig in next, yanking his head toward the backrest of the couch.
He groans, so lost in the sensation he forgets about your little game. He thrusts up into you, meeting the roll of your hips, coming as close to relinquishing control to you as is possible for him.
You tighten your grip. “Kiss me.”
His hand closes around the back of your head immediately as he brings your lips down for a kiss. You smile, unable to hide your pride.
“What?” You feel the question against your lips more than you hear it.
“Guess you like it when I do this,” you whisper back, and yank his curls a third time, right on the this.
He growls, a sound that makes your hips stutter and your stomach curl tightly every time you hear it. “Careful, sweetheart, you’re playing with fire.”
“What are you going to do about it, big boy?” you ask, knowing full well what will happen if you use those two words.
He rolls you over faster than you can consider the consequences of your own actions so your naked stomach lands against the couch. You hear his belt buckle jingle as he kicks off his jeans, then climbs above you. You shake, actually shake, with anticipation, your whole body charged with an energy that’s impossible to control.
He's so so big when he takes you like that, and you press your face against the couch to muffle your scream as he pushes into you, spreading you so wide you’ll still feel him tomorrow. The whole couch shakes as his thrusts become erratic, chasing his own pleasure while putting yours on the back burner. That's the side of him you love the most – the one that lets go and just takes.
He doesn’t pull out when he comes, doesn’t try to hide the desperate stutter of his hips or the deep pants he makes when he empties himself into you, the ones you love to hear but he always tries to suppress. You lie still, finally in a position to focus on the sensations.
When he pulls out, you expect him to sit down next to you, to tell you, “Give me a minute,” like he so often does. He never forgets about your pleasure, but he needs to collect himself after an orgasm. Today, he glides of the couch onto his knees and pulls on your arm until you sit up, ears still ringing from how hard he fucked you.
“Come here, sweet girl,” he says softly, wrapping your legs around his shoulders, his eyes on the mess he made of you. “I need you to hold on now.” And then he buries his face between your legs.
894 notes · View notes
rosyblooom · 7 months ago
Text
right person, wrong times | cl16
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: a random day each year across 11 years, as they go from practically strangers, to more, to less, and again. (~4.3k) a/n: inspo from 'one day' !! been struggling with writer's block, so sorry in advance if it's rough lool
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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One day in 2018
Y/N glanced across the crowded room, picking out one familiar face amidst the sea of strangers: Pascale. Their families went way back, but with Y/N's parents splitting when she was just a toddler, she'd spent most of her life in Spain with her dad, Switzerland for boarding school, and rare trips to Monaco to visit her mum—hardly ever crossing paths with the Leclerc's.
But today was different. She found herself in Monaco attending a family gathering to finally meet Pascale's sons properly. She couldn't recall the last time she'd spoken to them, but Pascale had insisted today would be the day, especially since her recent move here.
Across the room, Charles stood, his posture slightly hunched as his mother whispered in his ear, urging him to check on Y/N. "Please go see how Y/N is doing. I'm not sure if she'll remember you, but just introduce yourself and keep her company for a while," Pascale pleaded, fixing him with a hopeful gaze. "Please."
"I don’t even know where she is or what she looks like."
"She's at the bar," Pascale replied with a smile. "She's the pretty one—you won't miss her."
"Very helpful," Charles chuckled, shaking his head before stepping back. "I'll make my way over now."
It didn't take long until he found himself at the bar. Surprisingly, his mother's brief description proved accurate, as Y/N stood out for her beauty—quite a departure from the faint memory he held of her.
Drawing closer, he flashed a warm smile and extended his hand in greeting. "Charles."
Y/N shot him a quick, assessing glance, her eyes flitting over his unruly hair and black attire, before meeting his gaze. "Not interested," she dismissed, her attention already wandering back to the room.
Chuckling at her abruptness, Charles shook his head. "No, no, I wasn't trying to... I'm not here to make a move, I wouldn't."
Y/N turned towards him, her curiosity piqued by his response. "Ouch," she teased, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "So you think I'm ugly, then?" Her lips curved slightly as she awaited his answer.
Heat crept up Charles’ neck, and though he couldn’t see himself, he could sense the warmth spreading across his face. With a nervous stammer, he began, “Wait, no! That’s not what I meant—What I’m trying to say is—”
“Relax,” Y/N interjected with a sympathetic smile. “I’m just kidding. Nice to see you again, Leclerc. It’s been a while, huh?”
Charles let out a long breath, his tension easing slightly. For a moment, he studied Y/N with a discerning gaze, as if attempting to unravel her mystery; she was undeniably peculiar, yet undeniably intriguing. “It has been a while,” he finally acknowledged, nodding slowly.
One day in 2019
This marked Y/N’s first ever Christmas market in Monaco. She had wanted to attend last year’s, but the winter season had always been her least favourite. This time last year, it was simply too cold for her—no matter what the news claimed, she was freezing. But today wasn’t half as bad. Sure, she was bundled up in about three sweaters under her hoodie, which she wore beneath her jacket, but well, you could say she was sensitive to weather.
“Y/N?” a voice suddenly erupted from behind her, pulling her attention away from the gigantic, decorated Christmas tree and towards Charles, who now stood before her, holding two steaming mugs.
Y/N narrowed her gaze, appearing lost in thought. “Sorry, do I know you?”
Charles shook his head and sighed, his breath forming a white cloud in the chilly air. “Right, of course. It’s been a year, so it makes sense for you not to remember me…”
“I'm just joking,” Y/N grinned, nudging him cautiously to avoid any spills. “You’re too easy.”
Charles’ mouth dropped open slightly, his eyes widening for a moment before he chuckled, “Okay, I’m not going to believe anything you say from now on.”
"Good idea," she nodded with a smile. Y/N's gaze then drifted down to the two mugs in his hands, and she inquired, "Am I right to assume that one of these is for me?"
A puzzled expression briefly crossed Charles' face, his brows furrowing slightly, prompting Y/N to gesture towards the cups.
As if suddenly remembering, he exclaimed, "Oh, right! I thought you might want something warm, and who doesn't like hot chocolate, right?" With that, he offered one of the drinks to her.
"I sure do." Y/N took the cup, cupping her cold hands around the hot glass, immediately feeling the stiffness melt away from her fingers. The hot chocolate wasn't nearly as scalding as she had anticipated—it was just right, and she savoured each sip, briefly closing her eyes in contentment. When she reopened them, she couldn't help but remark, "Sweet, just like you."
As if someone had turned on a gas stove, heat rushed to Charles' face, though this time he was fortunate; the weather was already giving him a rosy complexion due to the cold.
But Y/N still noticed, and she smiled. "Don't go getting soft on me now," she teased, bumping her elbow into his arm.
Without really thinking, Charles muttered, "You're not making it easy…" His words slipped out, and with their proximity, Y/N heard him loud and clear. Even though it wasn't the first time she'd heard a comment like that, the fact that it came from Charles sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.
"What was that?" Arching a brow, Y/N glanced up at him sideways, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Nothing… Do you want to get inside though? It’s a little too cold for me."
“It’s my first time here,” Y/N said, hooking her arm around his, ignoring the sudden tension in his muscles. “Don’t want to get lost,” she explained, glancing up at Charles, who didn’t object and instead simply nodded. “Right, yeah.”
“So? Lead the way then.”
“Alright, alright,” Charles obliged, skilfully manoeuvring through the crowd, with Y/N beside him.
One day in 2020
“Is this seat taken?” The question caused Y/N to freeze, her forkful of ratatouille dropping onto her plate. She swallowed the remaining food in her mouth and swiftly swept the napkin off her lap, dabbing the corners of her mouth until she was sure there were no traces left.
“Not at all,” she finally responded, turning towards the voice. “I should warn you though—” But the moment her eyes met the familiar pair of Charles’ blue ones, she stopped mid-sentence.
For a brief moment, it seemed as if the rest of the table didn’t exist, as neither of them spoke, both too captivated by the other's presence. With a crooked smile, Charles broke the silence. “You were going to warn me about something?”
Y/N couldn't quite explain why, but the sight of his smile immediately lifted the corners of her mouth, while her stomach somersaulted with a flurry of emotions. She pushed aside the sensation and simply laughed, resting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands. “Just forget it,” she mumbled against her palms, loud enough for Charles to hear.
A gentle breeze wafted over her, carrying a familiar, clean scent of laundry detergent that Y/N had come to associate with Charles. Somehow, it immediately calmed the strange fluttering in her stomach, prompting her to lift her gaze again.
“Hi,” she finally greeted with a smile, reaching for the glass of wine on the table.
“Hey,” Charles nodded, settling back in his seat.
They lingered like this for a while, Y/N's gaze fixed on the side of his face while Charles casually surveyed the room, exchanging greetings with a few acquaintances. Squinting slightly, Y/N blurted out, “Are you stalking me?”
Charles burst into laughter, quickly composing himself and leaning towards her. “In my family's house?” he countered.
Y/N nodded in satisfaction as she took a sip from her drink. “Excellent point,” she conceded.
Gently settling the glass down, she redirected her attention to the untouched forkful of food and remarked, “Can I just say, you have to try this, it's so good.” She gestured towards her barely touched plate. “I don’t know what Pascale put in this, but this is the best ratatouille I’ve ever tasted.” Y/N grabbed her fork and extended it towards him, but noticing Charles freeze, she quickly swallowed her words, saying, “Oh, sorry, I know some people are a little iffy with sharing—”
Before she could retract the fork, Charles' warm hands suddenly enclosed around hers, halting her movement as he guided the fork towards his mouth, taking a bite, and nodding at her with a smile. “It’s been my favourite since I was a little kid.”
Y/N whispered softly, her voice barely above a murmur, yet close enough for them to hear each other perfectly. "A man of taste huh?" Her gaze drifted from his eyes down to where his hand still lingered around hers, now tracing soft circles across her skin.
Charles followed Y/N’s line of sight, quickly clearing his throat when he realised what he was doing. He withdrew his hand, causing both to avert their eyes, suddenly finding interest in everything but each other.
The last thing Charles wanted was to make Y/N uncomfortable, and as for her, she simply didn’t want to blow things out of proportion—see something where there was nothing. For all she knew, Charles was like that with all his friends.
A few moments passed, filled with surrounding chatter, before they both spoke up at the same time.
“Do you want to go—"
“So, do you have any other—"
Laughter erupted between them before Y/N smirked, “Because I’m a lady, you first.”
“How kind of you,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Are you free next week? We could maybe grab lunch or something.” Before she could respond, he added, scratching his neck, “I would offer to cook, but unfortunately, cooking skills don’t get genetically passed down.”
Ignoring the beat Y/N was sure her heart had just skipped, she simply smiled and leaned forward, chin propped on her hand. “You mean a date?”
“Only if that’s what you want.”
Her rapid nods confirmed everything before her words even formed. However, just as Charles’ lips broke into a broad grin, Y/N’s expression suddenly fell as she remembered, “Wait, no, I can’t. I’m travelling to Spain tomorrow to visit my dad. And then after that, I’ll start my internship in New York City.”
Charles sank back into his chair, though his face didn’t betray the disappointment he felt. “I see,” he sighed.
“Rain check?” Y/N asked. She wanted a date with him, to see if they’d hit it off on that level. The only problem was the timing, but she knew her feelings didn’t fade quickly. If they had to wait, then so be it. She was ready to do so. Laughing, Y/N added, “Seriously, I still want that date.”
“Rain check it is,” Charles nodded. “Congrats on the internship though, that’s amazing. Maybe I can come visit, and we’ll—”
The sudden clanking of glass interrupted him, causing both to turn their attention to the woman standing at the end of the long table.
Without breaking eye contact with the woman, Y/N leaned in closer to Charles, her lips accidentally grazing his as his gaze fleetingly dropped to her lips before he refocused on the woman, who had now dropped her glass onto the table.
Y/N whispered into his ear, to which Charles simply nodded, suppressing the sudden surge of desire coursing through his veins.
One day in 2021
Y/N walked through the Paddock with a sense of detachment, like a deer caught in headlights. The US Grand Prix had come to an end, and Max Verstappen had emerged as the victor. It wasn’t exactly what she had hoped for, but she didn’t feel any strong emotions about it. What occupied her thoughts, however, was the meeting spot she had arranged with Carlos.
Pausing in her step, she pulled out her phone, deciding to cut straight to the chase and call him directly. The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity until the sound was abruptly cut off by a long beep, indicating his automated voicemail.
“Not even personalised,” she scoffed, hanging up, tossing her phone into her bag, and continuing, resigned to the idea of either wandering aimlessly forever or eventually finding Carlos.
However, she didn’t get far before colliding with someone. She stumbled backward a bit before regaining her balance, and as she looked up, her eyes widened in recognition.
Charles stood opposite her, his expression shifting from shock to a warm smile, though his eyebrows remained slightly furrowed. “Hi,” he breathed, the warmth of his breath reaching and spreading across Y/N’s face. “You’re… here.”
Y/N’s gaze swept over his tousled hair, a few strands sticking to his forehead adorned with tiny beads of sweat, some trailing down the sides of his slightly flushed face. “You’re sweaty. Very sweaty,” she blurted out, immediately regretting her awkward observation. But it had been a year since their last exchange, so it was understandable that things felt a bit awkward between them.
A few chuckles escaped Charles, immediately bringing a smile to Y/N’s face. “Thanks, I didn’t notice."
She exhaled a laugh, and then Charles added, “Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.” Shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun with his hand, he squinted at her. “Can I ask though, was this meant to be a surprise or something?”
“Ah, Charles, you’ve met my friend, Y/N,” Carlos interrupted from behind as he came to a stop beside her.
Y/N smiled awkwardly. “Uhm... Carlos actually invited me, so that's why I'm here."
“You two know each other?” Charles inquired, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
“My dad lives in Spain, remember?” Y/N reminded him, shrugging. “Our families are pretty close.”
“Right…” Charles nodded, though he couldn’t shake off the slight hint of disbelief in his voice. After all, he knew Carlos was dating someone already, so he wasn’t sure why he felt that way. And as for Y/N, she was free to do as she pleased. After all, that date they had talked about last year never even happened. They had no history, no reason for him to feel jealous.
But he did anyway.
Wanting to diffuse the sudden tension settling between the three of them, Y/N exclaimed, “But it’s good to see you again. And you did really well. Congrats on P4, seriously.”
Charles smiled, and for the first time today, it was genuine. He wasn’t entirely satisfied with P4; he had wanted a podium finish and had come close to it. But for some reason, if she was happy, so was he.
“Thanks—” His smile faltered when an arm snaked around his torso, his girlfriend Amélie taking her place beside him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Without wasting a second, his gaze shifted to Y/N, just in time to catch the way her eyes widened before she swallowed, her expression now impassive.
Shock and confusion swirled through Y/N’s body. She hadn’t expected Charles to have a girlfriend, so when she felt her heart crack slightly, it made sense. But she wasn’t going to show it—at least, not purposely she wasn’t.
Charles furrowed his brows as he regarded the girl standing in front of him. A pang of guilt nagged at him, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why: they were never anything more than friends. And judging by the way neither of them had kept up with one another, you could barely even call it that.
Maybe they were more like strangers with a couple of good memories and unfulfilled promises?
“You alright, mate?” asked Carlos, pulling Charles out of his reverie.
Clearing his throat, Charles replied, “Yeah, yeah... Uhm Amélie, this is Y/N, my… friend.” The word came out almost as a question, but he pressed on. “Y/N, meet Amélie, my girlfriend.”
Charles wasn’t sure what he expected, but Y/N’s cheerfulness was definitely not it. “Hey,” she smiled and waved.
Slowly, tensions began to dissipate as all four of them became engrossed in conversation—though in reality, it was more like three. Y/N found herself too preoccupied with the realisation that Charles had a girlfriend now. It was a simple fact, yet it carried a weight: it meant he hadn't spent the year turning down people left and right, like she had, in hopes of a maybe.
One day in 2022
"Y/N, thank God you’re here!" Amélie's voice echoed the moment Y/N stepped into the living room, causing her to freeze in her tracks. "Uh, hey?" she replied, her eyes scanning the partly decorated room before settling on Charles, who sent her a small wave.
She raised her brows and forced a smile, though it faltered quickly—she and Charles had grown apart. Truthfully, Y/N had contemplated not showing up today; faking an illness or something and making sure to stay at home for a few days—Monaco was too small to risk being accidentally spotted.
But she came.
She came because Charles called.
Two days ago, he had called her in the middle of the night, asking if she was planning to fake being sick to avoid seeing him. And he was right—exactly what Y/N had been contemplating. So, when her first phone call with Charles in two years challenged the very idea in her mind that they had grown apart, it confused her. After all, she was sure she was a blank page now, yet he still seemed to be able to read her.
Snapping out of her daze, Y/N watched as Amélie paced erratically, her brows furrowing with every step. "What's going on with her?" Y/N asked, turning to Charles for an explanation.
He chuckled, approaching her. "It's the cake," he explained. "Amélie ordered it, but now it needs to be picked up sooner than planned because they're closing earlier than usual for some reason. So, now we have a problem, obviously."
"Why don't you just go pick it up?" Y/N leaned into him, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes still fixed on Amélie, who was now engaged in a fervent phone call.
"Apparently, I'm too clumsy."
"You are."
Charles chuckled, but his laughter was cut short when Amélie suddenly gasped, her eyes darting between Y/N and him as she rushed towards them. “Okay, guys, everyone will be here soon. If I stay and finish all this off, you two can quickly go collect the cake. So, if one person drives and the other holds it really tightly, that should work, right?”
“Sounds good,” Y/N chimed in.
“I agree,” Charles added.
“Alright,” Amélie beckoned them out of the living room and towards the front door. “Go on.”
“I love you,” Amélie said, leaning in for a kiss. But as she moved closer, Charles instinctively turned his head, causing her lips to land on his cheek instead of his mouth. His gaze had shifted to Y/N, who stood in the front yard, seemingly fixated on the grass.
“Yeah... love you,” he muttered absentmindedly, his attention still captivated by the girl just a few feet away from him.
Normally, Charles had no issue displaying affection for his girlfriend in front of others, but Y/N made it difficult. Whenever she was around—whether at family gatherings, parties, or Grand Prix events—his eyes always seemed to gravitate towards her.
“Please, don’t take too long!” Amélie shouted as the door slammed shut.
Amidst the occasional chirping of birds, a palpable silence settled between them. Y/N stared into the distance, while Charles observed her from the corner of his eye, noticing subtle changes since their last encounter. Her hair, for instance, was slightly shorter—a minor detail, yet one he couldn't help but notice.
With a loud clap, Charles gestured towards his car, parked discreetly to the side. “That way.”
Following his lead, Y/N entered through the passenger seat. However, as the car sprang to life and its dashboard lights flickered on, Charles let out a frustrated groan.
“What's wrong?” Y/N inquired.
Charles shook his head for a moment, muttering, “I told him to fill up the gas…”
“Oh,” Y/N exhaled, resting her head against the soft leather headrest. “So, what now?”
Charles' eyes lit up with excitement as he sat up eagerly, turning to face her. "We've got some old bikes in the shed, so if you want to—"
"You want us to ride rusty old bikes, while carrying a cake?" Y/N interjected, her serious expression quickly giving way to laughter.
"...Yeah?"
Y/N narrowed her gaze, appraising Charles for a moment before rolling her eyes and pushing the door open. "This is so going to backfire. I can't believe I'm doing this."
Charles couldn't help but smile as he watched Y/N exit the car. He had a feeling she wouldn't turn this idea down, and he was glad he was right. It meant that despite the years, things hadn't changed too much between them. She was still the same Y/N he knew, and he hoped he was still the Charles she was willing to have a date with.
"Don't tell me I'm going to have to do this by myself now. You coming or what?" Her yell pierced through the car, prompting him to jump out and hurry towards the shed.
By the time he finally reached the shed, Y/N had already claimed a bike—and surprisingly, it was his. Charles used to guard that bike fiercely when he was younger, not allowing anyone, not even for a few minutes. But now, as he watched her mount it, he felt no trace of that possessiveness, not even a hint.
Perhaps it was because he had outgrown that childish behaviour, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, he couldn't deny the genuine happiness that bubbled up within him at the sight.
Now, if it were Amélie riding his bike at that moment, he wasn't quite sure he would feel the same way.
“Race you to the bakery?” Y/N grinned mischievously.
A wide smile immediately spread across Charles' face. “Sure, once I get my hands on a bike.”
“No,” she retorted, already starting to pedal. “You snooze, you lose.”
Racing to grab Lorenzo’s bike, Charles jumped on it, yelling, “Cheater!”
When he finally caught up to her, Y/N was no longer riding her bike but pulling it alongside her, causing him to slow down beside her. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you riding?” One corner of his mouth curled upward as he fixed her with a knowing look, coming to a full stop. “Oh, did you finally realise that cheating isn’t the way to go?”
“Says you,” Y/N retorted, though her chuckles rang loud and clear as Charles fell into step with her.
“Anyway,” she pointed down at her bike, “the chain’s come loose. So yeah, I was right, this was a bad idea, and Amélie is going to kill us, and poor Pascale won’t have a birthday cake.”
“Wow, don’t be too optimistic now,” Charles teased, earning an elbow to his side. “We’re not too far from the bakery now, so I say let’s not worry until we get to the ‘how do we get back home in time’ part. What do you say?”
Y/N turned to Charles, her eyes lingering on his features longer than necessary. “Okay,” she finally nodded, “sounds like a plan.”
But her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. In the time she spent gazing at Charles, he had been doing the same, unwilling to move on from that moment quite as quickly as she had.
Stopping in his steps, Y/N continued a few more feet before finally noticing his hesitation and halting her movements, turning back. “Do you want Amélie to murder us?” she joked, but her humour faded when she saw Charles’ serious expression remain unchanged.
“Okay, what’s the matter—”
Charles cut her off with a sigh. “Why don’t we talk anymore, Y/N?”
“What do you mean? We’re talking right now.”
“Come on, seriously,” Charles walked up beside her.
Y/N just shrugged, her mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara desert. “I don’t know…”
“Well, I don't either, so can we please just start over then?” Charles proposed, his tone tired of the tension and the walking on eggshells. It was too much when all he wanted was to be close to her, to laugh like they used to before everything went haywire.
Y/N looked off to the side, musing over his words for a moment, before meeting his gaze again with a small smile. “Okay, fine, I guess.”
“Wow, you seem really excited,” Charles remarked, flashing a wide grin.
“I really do, don't I? Now, if you don’t mind,” Y/N started walking again, “I really do not feel like being killed today, so let’s fucking go.”
“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”
2:31 ──────ㅇ────── 4:45
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