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jarofstyles · 29 days

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Stacy’s Mom

Stacy’s mom has got it goin’ on… and Harry’s definitely been noticing for a while.

We haven’t seen a lot of reverse age gap fics and figured it was our time to contribute to the cause. We hope you enjoy!

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Warnings- age gap, unprotected sex, teasing, creampie, soft dom!H

———————

His lip was bitten as he watched her walk across the backyard, sunglasses hiding his gaze. The back of her sundress brushed the softness of her thighs, her hair pulled up in a claw clip as she placed snacks down on the glass table for the group of friends that often frequented the pool at her house. The very house she had won in the divorce just three years ago.

Stacy’s parents had always been generous when it came to letting their home be the epicenter of their friend groups’ hang out. It didn’t stop when they all came home from uni for the summer, everyone falling back into their routine with the hometown group, or after they’d graduated and some had stayed in town. Drunken food at the diner, pub crawls- legally this time-, the mall, the summer carnival, and movie nights and pool days at Stacy’s house. It was spacious and clean and it had only changed a little bit since the divorce. Her hotshot lawyer father paid a nice big chunk of change in alimony keeping the comfortable lifestyle afloat, one Harry was aiming to get for himself. Hopefully after he opened up a garage or two, he’d be able to grab a house like this. Make someone happy.

The problem is, the last three summers all he could think about was someone he definitely shouldn’t be.

It was no secret that she was incredible. Everyone loved Y/N from the start and not just because she was the ‘cool, young mom’ who didn’t make them call her by her last name. She was genuinely kind, loved to make them snacks, would pick up anyone who needed it, let them nurse their hangovers at their house and made them the greasy breakfasts they needed to get through the mornings. The woman was an angel- and she had an exterior to match.

It seemed like in the last few years though, she had been rediscovering herself and her body. Dressing in ways she hadn’t before, ways he knew Stacy’s father wouldn’t like. Denim shorts and tank tops, sundresses, the like. Things that made Harry’s crush morph from minor to major. Y/N had become the centerfold to his wet dreams, the woman he compared other girls to, the one he closed his eyes and imagined in the shower when he was stroking off. He watched her in her kitchen while she chopped up fruit for them, her back turned and imagined approaching her from behind and placing kisses on her neck, hiking the dress up and offering her all the fun she could want.

There was something so tempting about the older woman. Harry’d always sort of had that preference, but it had intensified as he grew up. His friends liked to prod at him about being into MILFs and he couldn’t deny it. He was. There was certainly one mother he’d love to fuck, and it was Stacy’s. In all honesty, it was half the reason he kept showing up here.

“I hate to say it, Stace- your mom is banging.” Jeremy said what Harry was thinking but got a smack upside the head with a waterlogged pool noodle, making him yelp.

“Do not talk about my mom like that you freak!” She hissed. “She’s a beautiful woman but none of you are going to even think about her in any way but my mother.” Her warning glare did little to deter Harry, though he merely shrugged at her to get her to think he agreed. There was no way in the world that he would ever turn away a chance to be alone with Y/N. He would beg on his knees for a chance to touch her.

“Don’t look at me! I’m just saying it. Harry’s the one who’s the MILF Hunter.” Jacob snickered, making him raise an eyebrow. It was true and he wanted to smirk- because yes, he’d fucked a few older women before. Being a mechanic during the week and a bartender during the weekend had their perks, including women who found him to be more than a bit interesting. There had been a few instances he’d taken them up on their offers, quelling their loneliness and lack of orgasm with his own brand of fun. But none of them had ever appealed to him quite like Y/N.

The forbidden fruit theory, maybe. He really, really shouldn’t even entertain it. A crush turned into an obsession though, he was fucked. The moment he thought he had a chance, he would be taking it. As cocky as he could be, he knew he would be able to handle her.

“Yeah, but Harry’s not going to say stupid shit to my mom.” She huffed.

With a smirk on his face, Harry gave a half ass nod before watching the woman of discussion shoot them a beaming smile across the yard before she turned to go back inside. Harry’s eyes ate up every curve, every drop, every inch of skin he could see before she closed the sliding glass door to the deck.

If only she knew.

——

Harry was sitting at home when he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. People usually gave his number out to people who had car trouble, knowing he was reliable and could always use a bit of cash. It wasn’t something he minded, but he was exhausted tonight. Sitting down in his apartment, he exhaled slowly before clicking the green button to answer the phone.

“Hello, who’s this?” He asked gruffly, his slight agitation bleeding into his tone.

“H-Hi! I’m so sorry to call you so late, but it’s Y/N. Stacy’s mum.” She said shyly. “I’m sorry to bother you Harry, but my car… it’s not starting. I was meant to go to the grocery but it’s just making this noise and-“

His whole body shot up straight as he got confirmation as to who it was. Was it some sort of joke? Or were the angels smiling down on him for once? Any ache in his body and heaviness in his eye disappeared as he stood up from the sofa, making his way towards the door.

“M’on my way. It’s no trouble.” He said in a softer tone, thankful he had already showered. Maybe he’d need to do it again, but he wanted to look halfway decent for Y/N. “It’ll be about 15 for me to get over there.”

“Oh-are you sure?” Her voice was slightly hesitant. “You sound tired and I can order groceries if I need to, I really don’t want to put you out.”

“Promise, it’s not a big deal.” He assured her, tucking his wallet into his jeans before opening his front door. “I’d always help you with whatever you need. Didn’t mean t’’sound so grumpy, I didn’t know it was you calling.” He’d have been halfway to her house if he had known. “Give me 15 and I’ll be there.”

“As long as you’re sure.” He could tell she was doing the worried thing she usually did with her fingers touching her bottom lip. There had been a lot of silent observing on his end towards the woman and he could almost see her in his head. “I’ll make sure to make it up to you.”

Even though there was nothing suggestive in her tone, Harry could feel his prick stiffen up at the mere thought of it meaning something more. It took the whole drive there to will it down.

—-

Harry arrived to the house to see the garage doors open- and Stacy’s car gone.

Was this his divine intervention? He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he knew she had to be gone. Harry was the one who did all the work on their cars, so it wasn’t in the shop. More than likely they’d be all alone.

The summer night was cooling off a bit but there was still a decent amount of daylight left. The stickiness had subsided and it was far more comfortable than he had been at work all day in his damn coveralls. He’d sweat up a storm and cringed the moment he’d had a moment to himself, hating how hot the garage got in the summer months. His own garages would have proper AC one day.

He was thankful for the heat though when he saw Y/N come out from the garage, her lavender dress obviously a swimsuit cover up. The straps of a bikini were underneath it, the halter top of the dress tied behind her neck. It was shorter than her normal dresses making Harry peer up at the sky and ask anyone who was up there to lend him some strength in order to not pop a stiffy in front of her- at least not yet.

“You really didn’t have to come out so quickly. I didn’t think before calling you.” Y/N crossed her arms as she walked towards the younger man who was fishing his toolbox out of the back of his pickup truck. She couldn’t help but admire how much of a man he’d truly become. Tattooed now, shown off by his black tank top. Hair a bit unruly and curled. Stubble on his upper lip and jaw. He was a man now, not a hint of boy in the slightest, and it was a little intimidating. She remembered him when he was far more lanky, 19 and shy. Now he was 23, with larger arms and broadened shoulders, a pretty set of lips and a husky voice. Things she shouldn’t have been paying attention to.

There had been a bit of tension between them somehow, tension she hadn’t been able to pinpoint where it had begun. The one thing she did know is that he was an observer. His eyes were watching her when she came out and he kept eye contact as they spoke, like he was giving her every bit of attention he had when she was talking. Maybe it was the heart sickness she felt but it was so nice to feel listened to, appreciated. Harry always helped clean up, always told her daughter to be respectful to her mum, always asked her how her day was. He was a complete gentleman every time he came over and she had to wonder how much of a problem it was for her to sort of wish for that attention all the time.

Ever since she had found out Patrick had been cheating on her, she’d felt a bit used. Dirty. Of course marrying a man 10 years her senior who was a hotshot lawyer had probably been her first sign something would go wrong, but he used to dote on her. That was until she began to age. It wasn’t like she was old- she could probably still have a kid if she wanted! But she’d gotten pregnant at 17 and Patrick had been quick to marry her on her 18th birthday. A problematic union at best, but she’d tried to be happy. She was provided for and had a beautiful home and daughter, one so smart she was able to skip around in school! But… she’d never felt truly loved. Not that toe curling, soft eyed, tummy turning love that she’d always imagined.

Not even the passion she wanted. All she wanted at this point was for someone to want her. To make a move, to show her she was sexy and prove that her newfound revelations were true.

The last three years had been tearing herself down to build back up. There was some part of her that felt 22 again, wanting to live the life she hadn’t been able to as a young mum. But that didn’t mean she had to look at Harry the way her brain was trying to.

“Stacy is at a concert a few hours away otherwise I would have just asked her to borrow her car.” Having him here now made her feel all the more ridiculous for calling him over for such a stupid reason. Tomorrow would have at least been during normal work hours.

“Y/N.” Harry’s hand rested on her shoulder, making her breath catch quietly. “S’fine. I’m more than happy to help you. Alright?” His thumb rubbed over the cuff of her shoulder before he gently lifted his hand away, carrying his toolbox further into the garage.

She felt a bit buzzed, as pathetic as it was. It had been so long since a man had touched her, let alone a younger, attractive one. It made her feel like her brain had fogged up.

“Keys in the ignition?” He murmured. “Want t’see what we’re working with.”

It was enough to shake her out of her fog, nodding a bit too eagerly as he gave her a soft smile, sitting himself in the driver’s seat. She leaned against the garage door as she watched him turn it over a few times to no avail, making her worry her bottom lip between her teeth. She had no idea about anything car related and luckily it had all been minor stuff until now. Her ex had the cars serviced every few months and she had been dropping the ball. What if it was bad? What if she needed a new engine and Harry thought she was an awful car owner? What if-

Her train of thought was snapped out of it as he let out a chuckle, standing up from the seat. “I know what it is. Isn’t a big problem at all.” He walked over to his toolbox. “Battery is dead. You may have accidentally left the key in, or a door open, maybe a light on. Not a big deal. I’ll just give it a jump.”

While he didn’t seem annoyed about it at all, Y/N felt very, very dumb. How could she have not known that’s what it was? Something so easy to fix. Her cheeks burned as she cringed, feeling the guilt well up in her body for making him come out when she could have just asked a neighbor for a jump.

It took him just a few tries with her following his instruction to turn the car on when she said so in order for her car to turn on as if nothing had happened. It was slightly humiliating.

“Oh, god… Harry, I’m so sorry.” She groaned. “I’m not… I’m not good with cars and I thought the engine was dead or something big happened to it. I made you leave your house for no reason. I can’t begin to say how awful I feel.” It felt even more embarrassing because it was such a quick fix and he was an expert in cars. She probably seemed like a bobble head.

“Woah- S’okay.” He closed the hood of her car and detached the jumper cables. “It’s actually a good thing. I’d rather it be a quick fix than something that would cost you thousands. That’s the ideal. No one is an expert in cars right away and m’sure that the whole thing was probably be a bit troubling if it’s the first time it’s happened to you.” His voice tried to soothe her worries away. The man truly looked unbothered by it all, happy to help- but still.

“Well… if you’re sure.” It still felt hot around her cheeks as she made her way towards the door leading to the kitchen. “Come inside, I’ll get you something for helping me.”

Harry let out a sigh as she waited at the door for him, tucking his toolbox and cables back into his car before following her inside. A mixture of giddiness and nerves rocked through his system as she led him towards the kitchen where her handbag was. Alone with her at last- and with a good excuse. No one would question him coming over to help with the car. Surely, Stacy had given her his number. He had every right to be here.

So why couldn’t he extend his stay?

“How much do I owe you?” Her hair fell in her face as she looked down into her bag, fishing around for her wallet. It was always a bit of a mess with receipts she needed to toss, makeup she needed to put away, a first aid kit she’d only really ever needed once- all the things making it more difficult to find her wallet. So difficult that she didn’t notice how close he got until his warm, slightly calloused hand closed over hers, gently pulling it out of the bag.

Her heart stuttered as she raised her head to look at him. Tanned skin from being out in the sun, a few freckles here and there. A birthmark near his mouth she’d never noticed. He had more scruff than the last time she had seen him too, making her mouth dry a bit as she blinked up at the man, her hand suddenly feeling much smaller in his own. He was a bit too close but there was no desire in the slightest to pull back.

“You know me a bit better than t’think that I’d charge you for a jump.” His voice was low, soft. A volume it didn’t need to be for it being just the two of them. He also didn’t need to be this close to her, close enough to smell a warm, woodsy soap on him and mint from the gum he was usually chewing. Her body felt hot under where he touched her, heartbeat quickening at his unforgiving eye contact.

“B-but you came all the way out here.” She whispered back. It wasn’t necessary to talk that low but it was following his tone, the tension palpable in the room. “I’d feel awful for making you come for nothing. I really should pay you.” His stare was intimidating but also… a bit addicting. He didn’t look away from her- no, his eyes looked over her face. Maybe she had imagined the lingering at her lips, but part of her hoped she didn’t.

“Have you had dinner yet?” His question made her slightly confused, not the response she had been expecting.

“No, why? Did you want me to cook for you?” That made her perk up a bit. She had to do something to repay him. It wouldn’t be right not to.

“No. I want t’cook for you.” His words were matter of fact. There was no way she didn’t believe his desire to do so, considering he looked so sure of himself. It just was a bit confusing. Her brows furrowed, head tilting a little as she turned more towards him- all too aware he hadn’t dropped her hand from his grip yet- giving him that questioning look. “You have the ingredients for chicken teriyaki? Rice?” When she nodded, his eyes glanced over to the pineapple in her fruit bowl. “Saw a recipe on how t’make it in a pineapple bowl. Was going to do it this weekend but I’d like to make it here. A bit more room in this kitchen and… it’d be nice to eat with someone.” He wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d like to eat with her. “May I?”

“I- I mean of course you can, but it doesn’t… how is it payment for you? For you to be the one to cook me dinner?” It was a bit hard for her to understand. She was the one who did the cooking for everyone else and it sounded like he was doing her yet another favor.

“Because you’re fun to be around, nice to talk to, I won’t have t’shop for the ingredients, and m’starving.” It was self explanatory to him. He wanted to get away with spending as much time with her as possible. Especially when she seemed to be so shocked at the idea of someone being nice to her without the thought of repayment. It sort of pissed him off. “Just sit and talk to me while I cook. It’ll be nice to hear you without people interjecting.”

Y/N hadn’t realized he had noticed that. His back was already turned, going through her fridge to get the chicken out along with some of the ingredients for the sauce but her brain was still on that. Had his shoulders always been that broad? Harry had always been quiet and observant. The nice guy, sweet and thoughtful but he didn’t seem to take any of the friend groups shit. Stacy was the youngest out of them all and he’d always been thoughtful about her. Protective over her feelings- to the point Y/N had assumed Harry had a bit of a crush on her at first. That proved to be false when she’d heard about Harry being set up with one of the mothers of the kid’s Stacy taught swim lessons to.

One of her faults was indeed being nosy, and she’d listened in on her daughter when she dropped off lunch to the pool talking to said mother. She was definitely younger than herself with a much younger child but she apparently had one good night with Harry before he politely decided not to see her again.

She wasn’t dumb. Y/N heard their teasing of Harry liking older women… and perhaps that’s why he made her a tad bit nervous. It wasn’t like he’d ever made a move, but he had a sensual air around him. He’d been gentle with her today, but never inappropriate. Was it bad to wish he would?

The answer was a resounding yes, it was not at all something she should ever want- but that didn’t mean that’s what her brain was thinking.

She pulled out a pineapple wine she’d gotten as a gift, never a more appropriate time. A glass was poured for each of them as Harry went about the motions, preparing and chopping and starting the rice. Maybe adding alcohol into the mix wasn’t the smartest idea, but she needed something to take the nervous edge off.

“Is it lonely in a big house like this?” Harry asked as he dropped the chicken into the pan. “When Stace is gone, does it feel a little daunting?”

“Sometimes.” She pursed her lips. “It’s been my house for a while now so I’m used to all the noises and I know all the neighbors. You can hear the kids playing outside, lawnmowers, or people getting home from work.‘At night it can be… it can be a bit unnerving. Cold. But Patrick was gone a lot of nights at the office, so it’s nothing I’m not used to.” A bitter scoff left her as she took a sip of wine before shaking her head, face falling. “Sorry. I know that’s the last thing you want to hear about.”

“No.” He said simply. “I’d like to. I don’t mind.” His tongue ran over his bottom lip before he met her eyes, placing his wine glass on the counter. “Everyone needs someone to vent to sometimes, Y/N. Know m’younger than you and all but I’m not clueless when it comes to relationships.” A gentle smile softened the blow of the words. “Tell me about it if you want. You don’t have to censor yourself. Not around me. It’s just us.”

There was a burn in her belly at the last few words. It felt… really fucking nice to be told that. That he wanted to earnestly hear her talk. He was an incredible listener, she found. It made her wonder how much of what she said in the past he had really heard.

“Uh… well…” twirling the glass in her hand, her fingers tightened around the stem as she had to break eye contact with him. It was making her feel a little light headed. “He was cheating, as I’m sure you know. Stacy didn’t take it well. She’d cut up all his ties by the time I found her.” Her smile quirked on her lips. Her daughter had a thirst for revenge. “It was worse when I found out it wasn’t just one person but multiple women. All at his job. It’s why he moved firms.” Her lips tightened as she looked towards the sliding glass door that was open to let the air in, the sun having started to set just a bit ago. A golden glow ran over the kitchen and she had a hard time not staring at the man in front of her.

“I… I’m not sure how much you know of myself and Patrick, but we were in a relationship when I turned 17. He was 27. I thought it was very impressive and I was so mature for my age that he chose me, but it wasn’t. It was wrong. And when I got pregnant, we had to hide it until I turned 18 and he could marry me. His parents were lovely grandparents to Stacy but awful parents to him in the way they enabled his behavior. So for a long time I just thought it was a big star crossed love story when in reality, he stole my youth from me. I don’t ever regret my daughter- don’t get me wrong.” Her look was desperate for him to believe her, but he didn’t seem to have any judgment on his face. It was a breath of fresh air considering people usually gave her pitying looks this far along.

“I love her and I wouldn’t change it. Everything happens for a reason but… I’m just a bit bitter now. My best years spent on him and he’s fucking other women because I’m ’showing my age’ and I’m essentially aged out.” Her face curled in disgust. “I work hard on my body! I keep up with my appearance! You know? I’m not lazy. I didn’t let myself go which- even if I did, that’s no fucking excuse for cheating. Marriage was supposed to be for love, for better or for worse. At least that's what I naively thought.” It had been so long since she had someone to talk to, someone who didn’t seem to fucking judge her or try and tell her it was okay. Harry merely nodded, keeping his eyes trained on her face as she got it out.

“It should be what marriage is for.” He replied in a bit of a lull. “I mean, I’ve never been married but… S’a simple enough concept to understand. I don’t think you were naive in thinking that. He was just a dick for taking advantage of you.” Harry didn’t like Patrick much from the start. He’d been a show off, obviously trying to compensate for something. He’d sort of steamrolled over things Y/N used to say, and even though he’d only seen them married for a few times he came over. It was a good thing they divorced in his humble opinion, and not just because he was a bit obsessed with the woman standing in front of him. She seemed to grow from it, her confidence rising tenfold. He’d been holding her back. “I don’t think there��s much wrong with an age gap… as long as the parties are both of legal age.” He chopped the pineapple in half, making sure to make it even. “So, m’sorry you had to go through that. Stacy is great, but I wish you didn’t have to feel that way. It’s shit.”

Y/N felt a bit validated with his words. Maybe it was the wine, but she had a feeling it was just his presence that had her relaxing. He was right on all counts, but it was a little hard to accept at times after being manipulated her whole adult life. Someone was agreeing with her that weren’t her own parents. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I’m glad at least you think so. People kept telling me that marriages have bumps in the road and I was being a bit rash, filing for divorce so quickly after I found out but… Cheating is just not something I can stomach. I think they were thinking about his money, his reputation. Cared more about how he would be seen than if I was happy. I had to do a lot of cleaning up after the divorce. Friends I had for years chose his side and… yeah. I’ve been a little lonely.” A sad laugh left her before she cleared her throat. The man probably didn’t want to hear about that. “But luckily I’ve found more fulfilling things. It’s nice when you guys come around.” Her smile grew genuinely. “I’ve always liked taking care of people. That was one perk of being in the situation I was. Being a mum was great. It’s a bit jarring now though, with her out of the house the majority of the time. So, in the long roundabout answer to your first question- yes, the big house is a bit daunting sometimes.”

Y/N had rambled and babbled. Harry had been happy to listen, attentive even while cooking. She knew she may be embarrassed later about spilling her fucking guts out to him when he had only come over to fix her not so broken car and decided he wanted to make her dinner, but it was so fucking refreshing to have someone in her kitchen with her.

It was embarrassing how much she missed male attention. She’d wanted to clench her thighs together when he grabbed her shoulder earlier and it was pathetic, but it was hard not to notice how wonderful Harry was. He was hardworking, intelligent, sweet, charitable, understanding and stupidly fucking handsome. He could cook too, apparently. Something her ex husband could never even attempt.

“Thank you for sharin’ all that with me.” His voice was even and smooth as he gave her a gentle smile. “I, for one, am glad you divorced him. I think you’re incredible. You don’t deserve someone who’ll step out on you. Let out multiple times.” It truly did piss him off. The man had a woman who was willing to give the world and still managed to be greedy for other women and fucked it up. “I’ve never really understood that sort of thing but, I think you’re too good for him anyways. Know you said you feel like you wasted your youth and by the risk of sounding a bit cliche, age is just a number in this instance. You can do anything you want now that you think you would have wanted to do back then. And..” He smirked slightly. “You look like you could still be in your twenties. So I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Him acting like aging is a sin in any situation is fucking dumb considering it’s something unavoidable and sorta beautiful if you ask me. Older, wiser, more experience. It’s a good thing. To me, at least.”

Y/N did know of his taste for older women and though she had no intention of bringing it up, she seemingly couldn’t keep her mouth shut tonight. Without permission from her mouth, the words fell out like a tumble. “Is that why you go for older women?”

The room fell silent for a minute and she could feel the return of the heat under her cheeks, eyes widening as she snapped her hand over her mouth. It wasn’t something she wanted him to know that she knew, but too fucking late now. His head tilted back up, eyes falling on her own wide ones before he let out a laugh. A reaction she hadn’t expected in the slightest. Her hand fell in a motion to try and apologize but he lifted his own to stop her, calming from the laughter as he shook his head.

“Fuck, M’sorry. I didn’t mean t’laugh, but you looked like you scared the shit out of yourself.” He giggled, running his fingers over the corners of his mouth as they curled into a smirk. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize. We’re both adults here.” A clear definition that he was definitely seeing himself on her level. “It’s okay t’ask me about, love. I’m fine talking about it. You just told me details about your divorce so this seems a little tame in comparison.”

As much as she hated herself for it, her stomach flipped at the term of endearment. Harry and her hadn’t spent much time alone before but he had never called her that before. Maybe it was a bit of a bond forming being alone with him. He’d always been a bit ahead of the others in terms of maturity. Not in a creepy way like Patrick used to say about her, but in a genuine hard working way. He’d taken his jobs, career, and promises seriously. It was hard not to know how reliable he was when people constantly used that word to describe him. Seeing him as more of an equal instead of his daughter’s friend was easy when they weren’t around. There was that old soul type of thing she liked.

“I obviously did not mean for that to come out of my mouth. But uh-” She ran a hand over her dress to self-soothe. “I heard them teasing about you and one of the mum’s of the kids Stacy teaches had been bragging about…” The woman didn’t need to finish her stance before Harry laughed through his nose, trying to hide his smirk.

“Ah.” He nodded, turning the heat off on the stove and pouring the sauce onto the chicken. “Yeah. I do, I’ve always preferred older women. I get teased for it but it’s just what I’m attracted to.” There was that thought in his mind though, wondering what the woman had been bragging about. He’d sure as hell fucked her well and thoroughly, but at the end of it he had opened his eyes and it wasn’t Y/N. It’s his common problem these days. Falling out of interest when he realized he was chasing a feeling from people that weren’t the object of his affections. “I went out with her once… went back to her place.” He shrugged. “It was alright. I was pretty up front about not being sure we clicked but she wanted me to come in, so…” He shrugged. The girl didn’t seem to have hard feelings when she texted him a few days later asking for a repeat and he declined because he was going to be here for a get together.

“Can I ask why?” Morbid curiosity, that’s what she would call it. It was killing her since she had found out though. Why does a young man, almost in his prime, go for older women specifically? Not that she didn’t think they weren’t worth that, but it wasn’t the norm. “If it’s not too personal.”

“You can get personal with me, Y/N. I don’t mind.” He clarified, dishing some rice into the pineapple bowls he’d carved out. “I think there’s a few aspects to it but I appreciate maturity. One of my first experiences was with someone a few years older than me and it kept going from there. I enjoy intelligent conversation. Someone who can keep up and not just talk about the things girls my age talk about. Nothing wrong with them at all, but every time I’ve tried dating someone my age it’s fallen flat. I enjoy dates at nice restaurants or at home. Cooking for them, listening to music. I work a lot, I’m not much for clubs. Even pub crawls have been a lot for me at times considering I work at a bar on the weekends, work all day in a garage. People my age don’t usually seem to understand or appreciate my work ethic but.. I want a house like this one day.” He motioned around the kitchen. “I’ve been saving loads of money, staying in my apartment and making sure I don’t spend crazily. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic, so I want t’provide for someone one day. Maybe that’s a little old fashioned but It’s fulfilling to me. Want to open my own garage, maybe multiple and… I dunno, older women have always been more receptive to my plans, to the way I am. And I’m not a huge texter. I like phone calls, seeing someone in person. Dating my age is a lot of that.”

It wasn’t a shock to her that his ethics would be a turn off for younger women who sometimes got a bit in their head about the attention they needed. It wasn’t a drag or anything of that nature, but a lot of younger women relied on that sort of thing. Texting all day that he obviously wouldn’t be able to do. They deserved the relationships they wanted but so did Harry. It was a surprisingly nice answer from him. He had lots of decent reasons that made her feel a little more intrigued than she should be, but she couldn’t help it. The man was alluring.

“And… permission to overshare a little bit?” He asked, wanting to test the waters. Y/N looked intrigued, nodding as she leaned on the counter. “Older women tend to be a bit more.. Compatible with me sexually. A bit more eager. Some are experienced but it isn’t really about that, it’s about knowing what you want. Being a little less shy in asking for what they want. Everyone’s different of course, but I find that a disappointing amount of men aren’t giving women what they want, and I’ve been happy to provide that. I’m a giver, it’s what I like. So…” His pink tongue ran over his bottom lip as he kept eye contact with her. “There’s that aspect of it too.”

Y/N could feel the slight throb between her legs as he spoke. There was no hint of shyness in his face as he spoke to her, just matter of fact. He had no shame, if anything he seemed.. A little smug. Something that oddly made her stomach flip and flutter as he pushed her plate towards her and settled on the opposite side of the island, sitting on the stool.

“I.. I can see that.” She murmured, knowing she must look a little flustered. Considering it had been years since she’d had sex, just the way he was looking at her was working her up a bit further than she would ever want to admit. “I think..” If he was oversharing, maybe she should too. Or maybe that was the slight buzz the wine had provided. “I’m still trying to learn what it is I want. I was only with one person my whole life and then… After the divorce I had a one night stand and it was not at all satisfying. I’ve meant to try and go on dates more often but the few I’ve been on just didn’t feel right.” It wasn’t something she talked about often at all. She had her two girlfriends she talked to about sex- or lack thereof- and the toys they got in order to satisfy what their dates couldn’t.

This little tidbit had Harry leaning in a bit closer, chewing the first bite of his food. It was surprisingly good for a recipe he’d found on a social media site, but he was far more interested in what Y/N had to say. “I mean it’s only natural, isn’t it? To be curious?” He waved his fork in the air. “Was he satisfying you in your marriage?” The look on her face was all he needed to see for an answer. Her lips pulled in and her gaze averted, he did feel a seedling of pity for the woman- but hope for himself. One man’s loss was another’s gain, wasn’t it? He would be able to actually pleasure her. He knew he could. He hadn’t failed yet, and there were genuine feelings there for her so… he had a lot of faith he’d be willing and able to please her. Half of the battle was just listening to her. Knowing what she wanted. “It’s okay, I can tell what your answer is. But m’sorry to hear that.” He frowned. “You deserved better than all of that. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, but you deserved a hell of a lot more for what he put you through.” Personally, Harry would never drop the ball like that.

Realistically, Y/N was his dream woman and this was without knowing what she liked in bed. Everything about her was perfect to him, all except the pesky fact that she was the mother of one of his friends- but honestly? He was willing to risk it. She was worth that sort of risk. She had the demeanor, the charm, the intelligence, and so far, the sort of lifepath that aligned with him. He had to talk his way into it a little bit more than likely, but he was ready to try.

“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N knew she probably looked a little flustered. She was. He was saying all the right things and she felt a weird level of comfort with him that she hadn’t experienced before. He was a man. Maybe he was younger than her, but he had a level head. He could cook. He worked multiple job, had ambitions, he knew what he wanted and he wanted to be a provider. Something that she found to be overwhelmingly sexy. She was noticing him in less than appropriate ways more and more. Like how cut his jaw was as he chewed his food, the scruff on his face, his strong, big hands. So fucking big, making the fork he held look small. His arms were built, flexing as he leaned against the countertop. The memory of his broad shoulders wasn’t too far from her brain either. “You’re… I haven’t spoken to a lot of people about that stuff. I don’t mean to take up too much of your time tonight, I know you must be tired after work but… I really appreciate you coming here, fixing my car, cooking. Talking to me. You’re great company.”

“Like I said earlier, I like being around you.” It felt like he could see into her soul. Green peering inside of her, spreading her open. “If m’being honest, there aren’t many other places I’d rather be. M’happy to help you with whatever you need.”

If Y/N was crazy, she’d think it was a double meaning. She’d overthink and imagine that he was implying something not so appropriate. Things that had her tummy flipping and cunt weeping. Pathetic, she knew that. Here she was, lusting after the younger man as he stared at her from across her kitchen. The sun had now set and the darkness was beginning to set in, and she wanted more than anything to take his hand and drag him upstairs to her bedroom but she had to clear her brain before she did something rash. “I enjoy spending time with you too.” Her smile was soft as she took her plate and brought it to the sink. “Just let me clean these dishes and then I’ll walk you to your car. You’ve been such a help tonight.”

Y/N felt a little shaky as she turned the water on and let it run over the dirty pan and the other dishes she hadn’t quite gotten to. As much as washing dishes was something people usually hated, the girl found it a little therapeutic. She’d just gotten into it, relaxing just a bit when she felt a hand curl around her hip, a cleared plate set into the sink and the other hand shutting the water off on her. “What-”

“I think we’re dancing around it now, Sweetheart.” He said lowly, cuffing his other hand on her waist. Her body stilled as he pressed himself into her, his confidence high as he watched her shaky hand drop the sponge. “I think there’s something we both want and you don’t know how to ask for. And that’s okay.” His nose brushed the shell of her ear as she closed her eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know that you haven't been taken care of. I know you weren’t satisfied in the ways you deserved. I meant it when I said that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Y’know that, right?”

“Harry, what are you doing?” Her voice was breathy as she clenched her over the counter but making no move to leave his grip.

“I’ve been after you for a while, Y/N. I think you pretend to not notice how I look at you. I think… you were a little jealous when you found out I took that mum from the swim group out and fucked her, because you wanted it to be you. But let me assure you… I wanted it to be you, too.” His heat spread along her back as his fingers moved to splay over her tummy, the same tummy that was a mess of butterflies just under his fingertips.

“You did?” While she should have been shutting this down considering this man was friends with her daughter… she couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel more listened to, more desired, more aroused than she had been since… well, possibly her whole life.

“Of course, love. To be honest, I was tryin’ to give you time to adjust. To be single, to find more of yourself. You’ve blossomed so much since I’ve known you. I knew you’d probably want t’reject me because of how you know me, but I just need a chance to prove to you that I can be what you need.” The chills on her skin were unavoidable as his lips smeared over her neck, groaning quietly as he inhaled. “You smell so fucking good, y’know that? Makes me crazy. No one else smells like you… I knew touching you would ruin me.” He pulled her further into him, laying the first kiss on the hinge of her jaw. “I’d be fucked. But I’ve been fucked for a while now. No distraction took away from the fact that any body under mine wasn’t you. Wasn’t the voice I wanted saying my name. I just want to show you that m’worth the risk.”

The low baritone of his voice was making her want to whimper. Soft, hot lips pressed a trail of gentle kisses down her throat that got progressively more wet, making her cunt follow. Leaning back into him, it was hard to fight when her body felt like it needed him. His hand pressing on her stomach, pushing her all the way back until she felt him. Her gasp was wet, a chuckle vibrated against her throat as he ground himself against her ass.

“I’d fill you up. Make you feel it all the way in here.” The pressure on her stomach suddenly made a flash of heat boil in her belly, imagining it. Craving it. It always felt like something was missing during sex anyways. “I know you need it. You need someone to worship you, to make you understand just how irresistible you are. I’ve been dying to do that for you. Makes me so fucking angry t’know the people who’ve had you haven’t pleasured you, made you unsatisfied while I was dreaming about just a fucking lick of you. Just a squeeze.” Her hand fell on top of his own, breathing a bit more labored as the length of him against her ass taunted her further.

“You were?” The woman knew she probably sounded a bit wrecked but she was. Harry was making her needy, desperation filling her chest in a way that almost overwhelmed her. She was hungry for more, more of his touch, his lips, his confessions.

“Mhm. Had t’get my fill in those little touches you’d give me. Running you hand over my back, brushing past me in the kitchen, grabbing my hand. I’ve been wanting to hold you like this. Kiss you until you can't breathe. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock, make you melt just for me. S’that something you’d want, baby?” His teeth grazed her jaw getting a little whimper from her throat. “Hm? I’d like some words from you. I don’t mind doin’ most of the talking, but don’t leave me hanging.”

“I would- yeah. I would like that.” She was indeed panting. If she was a different woman she’d probably be ashamed over how much she was actually gagging for it, but there was something that made her truly believe that Harry could back up every single claim he said. “I haven’t been touched in so long but… you’ve made me feel so good already.” The admission made him smile against her skin, she could feel it. “Is this- do you just want sex?”

“No.” Her neck felt cold as he pulled away, manhandling her a bit and making her enjoy it far too much as she was turned and reversed in position to be facing him now. Her chin was grabbed between his fingers and his now dark eyes pinned her own. “S’not just a fuck to me. I like you, Y/N. Know it’ll be a little complicated considering the situation but to put it bluntly, I don’t give a fuck.” There was no room left for doubt with his words. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for fucking years, and unless you don’t want me, there’s nothing and no one else that’s gonna keep me from getting what I want.” When she failed to reply, he coaxed it from her. “C’mon, baby. Words.”

“I-I want that. I just didn’t know it was so serious for you.” She felt her cheeks flush at the intensity of it all. “It’s a good thing though… You’re making me a little dizzy.”

“Yeah?” He crooned. “A little dizzy? So fucking cute. I intend to do more than that, though.” Without another word, he took her mouth. Took it like he owned it, kissed her like it was already his.

Y/N melted into it immediately. Fell into the kiss and clutched his shirt to pull him closer as he made her brain empty of any thoughts but ones pertaining to him. How big his hands were, how easily he moved her around, how soft his lips were, how he tasted, the slight smell of motor oil underlying the fresh, clean smell that followed him over here. It was pathetic, maybe, to completely resign herself, to hand herself over to the younger man but… could anyone blame her?

Yes, he was younger. But he kissed like he had been hand plucked to be attached to her lips. His tongue brushed into her mouth and she moaned out loud, allowing him to kiss her any way he wanted. Y/N was touch starved and she knew it, but there was something electric about the way he held her. The way he kissed like he was starving, like he couldn’t get enough of her. His hand slipped down her back and greedily palmed her ass, squeezing it tight enough to make her whimper. It had been so fucking long since someone touched her like they knew what they were doing, like they knew what to do to make her feel good. Harry acted like she belonged to him already, pulling her leg up over his waist as he pressed her into the counter. “Hop up.” he whispered against her lips, using his hands to cuff her waist and tug her right up on the countertop.

Immediately her legs were spread and his body was between them. While he was somewhat lean, he was broad. His arms were big, his hands were too. She had to spread a bit and let her dress ride up as he manhandled her, yanking her back so she was right up against him. The sweetest whimper left her lips and translated to his, making him pull back to look down at her. Her smeared lip gloss and wide, glossy eyes looking up at him. Hair a little messy when it was usually styled, she looked… alive. The way he wanted her to feel with him. “M’gonna spread you open and get a taste, because I’ve been fucking dying for it for years.” He told her bluntly. “But just a taste. I’ll spend hours between these perfect damn thighs tonight… but I need to be inside of you.” He felt like he toed the line between unhinged and the most control he ever had. The man knew what he wanted, he told her what she was going to get, and yet he felt like he had never been more passionate about something in his life. Finally getting the chance to be with the woman he wanted was something that he had been counting down the days for. Nothing could stop him from doing this.

“Yes, please. I want you… I want you to take over.” She swallowed. It wasn’t always this way. Sometimes Y/N enjoyed the idea of being on top, enjoyed teasing, enjoyed the thought of being in charge for a little bit- but never in her life had she wanted a man to just do whatever the fuck he wanted. It was because she knew he would know how to please her.

That assumption wasn’t wrong.

Seeing the man get on his knees in front of the counter, ordering her to take the dress off and toss it to the side to expose her plain cotton bra and underwear, maybe she should feel a little apprehensive- but the only thing she felt was needy. Desperate. Wanted. The look in his eye told her that he wanted her and he wanted her more desperately than she even knew. His lips kissed over her knees and upper thighs, obviously pacing himself as his fingers tugged the waistband of her panties and slowly peeled them off her body.

Harry wished he spent a bit more time admiring her. He wished he had the self control at this point to not just pull her to the edge of the counter and take a thick lick over her glistening cunt and nuzzle his face into it regardless of the fact he was getting wet- but he didn’t. He pulled her up and onto his tongue, getting the delicious little gasp he had been dying to hear. Manicured nails gripped the countertop behind her and buried in his hair, wet gasps leaving her mouth. Garbles of his name and calling to god, but he was busy. Getting her flavor on every inch of his taste buds and committing it to memory, dipping his tongue into her entrance and lapping up to her clit where he sucked lightly, he was self serving. This was for him and she was reaping the benefits.

“Oh my f-fucking god.” Y/N said in disbelief, watching green meet her eyes as his nose nudged her clit. “Oh, you’re so fucking good, Harry. Holy fuck.” It was hard to comprehend that this man was on his knees for her when just a few nights ago he had been helping her set out snacks for their friend group as they had a hang out at the pool. Seeing him as the man he was, she couldn’t believe she’d never seen him in this light- not seriously. He had completely blown her expectations out of the water as his tongue flicked over her entrance, pressing against it and making her curse repeatedly.

The sound of a belt clanking on the floor was mostly ignored- but his fingers inside of her weren’t. In fact, she teared up slightly at the feeling. “Yes, fucking… finger me, feel me.” She growled, her thighs pressing him closer. He had no problems, humming against her as he played with her clit and opened her up with his fingers- surely for her benefit considering he had felt quite impressive against her ass. “Shit, I can’t believe this.” The laugh was quickly melded into a moan as he pulled her clit back into his mouth and added a second finger.

Harry shook his head into her cunt. He felt her clench around his fingers and the sounds of pleasure above him, and he didn't want to stop but if he didn’t, he was positive he was going to blow his load all over the kitchen floor. There was no bothering to wipe his chin as he stood back up, gripping her face for another deep kiss. “M’obsessed. Tastes even better than I expected… You’re never going to get me away from it.” He wasn’t even joking. He would gladly call off his shift from the bar tomorrow if it meant getting to spend that time tasting her. “But I need to get inside of you. I need to make you cum around my cock.” He went to get his wallet from his pocket but was surprised when she stopped him.

“I’m clean. I’ve- I’ve been tested and I’m on birth control-” Harr interrupted her with a loud groan, fisting his cock in his hand as his pants fell to his ankles.

“Thank fuck.” He laughed. “This may be over quickly, but this isn’t the last time I’m in you. I want to make you cum over and fucking over- but I don’t want to waste my load on the floor when it’s better suited inside of you.” He watched her to answer, but he was pushing in before she got a word in.

“Oh- shit.” Y/N clutched him, looking at him with wide eyes as he sunk into her. Mouth hanging open, she adjusted to the stretch as his head dropped against hers and he kept her eye contact as he sunk in inch by inch. Their breathing mingling as the feeling encompassed both of them. “Oh my god- you’re so fucking big.” Her voice was unfamiliar to herself, sulky and whiny with the pleasure she felt from being stretched.

“I know, baby.” He grinned, holding on to the nape of her neck. “You’ll get used to it.” Without another word, he pulled out to thrust back in. The process was repeated as her hot, slippery cunt clenched around his cock and tried desperately not to give it up each and every time.

It was, again, better than he imagined. Nothing could have prepared him for how good it would be to sink into the perfect hole, how she would grip him and suck in deeper. How she’d soak him and how her fingers would dig into his arm, how all he’d be able to see and smell and taste was her. It completely engulfed him and he had no urge to do anything but stay right here. “Okay?” He checked on her as he ground himself into her, her clit brushing over the hair right above his cock and getting it wet.

“I’m so good.” She slurred, lost in how good it felt to have him inside of her. “I’m so full.” It was insane to her, knowing how she had been treated last time. Even with his direct approach, she’d never felt more cared for, more appreciated. He was working with her, checking in, all while making the first moves that made her feel like he had been hand made for her. “Go harder. I can take it.”

Y/N had never been fucked the way she wanted and that had been apparent to Harry. He just had a feeling and he knew that she was going to need him in ways she hadn’t experienced. Ways he was more than happy to deliver. “I’ll give you anything you want, Baby.” His nose brushed against hers. “Just make sure to scream my name nice n’loud when you cum for me.”

It was unlike sex that she thought was real. Y/N held on to Harry as he plowed into her, his grip on her tight as his eyes looked down at where they were connected. It was wet, so fucking wet and creamy all over the base of his cock that she hadn’t known she could do. Her thighs were spread out and over his forearms as he fucked into her like it was his one and only job, whimpering out his name as he gave it to her the way she’d needed. “I knew you’d b-be able to give me what I wanted.” Her words were jostled as her body was, but he replied with another hot kiss.

Messy, full of tongue and wet, she relished in his desperate need to taste her again. It didn’t matter that her chin was wet or she was getting bruised on her hips, she’d finally felt fulfilled in sex. “Yeah? Y’knew I’d be able to give it to you?” He crooned. “M’glad you knew, because I plan on being the only one doing it.” The words were completely serious and possessive and Y/N loved it. Feeling this level of desire was brand new to her and she didn’t want to give it up.

“Uh-huh, I- I want you to be the one to give it to me.” As wrong as some people may see it, this was the epitome of a man. Even if he was younger- he had a plan, he had two jobs he’d held for years, a place of his own… He had more than some people her own age. Dedication and loyalty like his were irreplaceable. Maybe she was crazy in indulging in this, in allowing him to have her, but after wasting years with a man who didn’t want her- she wasn’t going to turn away someone who obviously desired her, wanted to worship her- and made her feel like she wanted to do the same back.

“Good. I wasn’t planning on letting anyone else get a taste. You’re going to be my woman, this is going to be my pussy, M’gonna keep making you feel good. I don’t care who has shit to say about it.” He grunted, pressing theirs mouths together again as he felt her get close. The rippling around his cock and her soft whimpers against his mouth, her hand gripping him hard, he was close to finally fulfilling his fantasy. His dream girl letting go around him and making a mess. “I can feel it, y’know. Feel how you’re gonna cum for me.” He panted against her mouth.

Y/N felt lightheaded in the best way, her body tingling and the pressure in her stomach building with each scrape of his tip against the spot no one else had reached- or even bothered to look for. Harry was perceptive and keen on her, about to make her orgasm from penetration for the very first time. In all her years she had thought something was wrong, but it turned out that she’d just been with shit people. Her ex husband, the attempts at hook ups, they had no idea how to work her body… But Harry? It seemed like he’d written the manual from the first time he touched her. The only thing she could think about was the pleasure and how good he looked giving it to her.

Lips swollen and teeth grit, vein on his neck visible, his arms flexed as he railed her. It was like fucking her was his purpose, and fuck- he was fulfilling it. “I am.” She breathed, the tension getting tighter in her stomach. Again, those tears rose in her eyes as each thrust jolted the pleasure inside of her. “I am, I’m gonna cum for you Harry.” Remembering at the last minute that he wanted her to say his name, she sure as hell gave it to him. “Please, Harry…. Just keep fucking me, give it to me, you’re right where I n-need.” It was right there, she could fucking taste it. “Harry, Harry-”

“Cum for me.” He coaxed. “C’mon, baby. First of many, show me how you cum on my cock. Get me nice and wet- fuck, you’re gorgeous.” The man was in awe of how beautiful she was, but even more about how good it felt as she began to finish on his prick. Her mouth dropping and her eyes watering as she let out a slew of cusses, the quivering of her cunt making it hard to hold on. “Fucking beautiful, that’s my girl. F-Fuck.”

Y/N felt like she was floating. Pleasure hit every nerve, white hot and tingling. She had no idea what was coming out of her mouth but she felt the burn in her eyes as a tear fell down her cheek, clinging to him as each thrust got that sweet spot and made her tremble in his arms. He didn’t stop, the dark noises he made only spurring her on further. She was wet and she knew she must have completely soaked him. The wet sounds had gotten louder and the way he had groaned let her know she had to have gushed around his cock. “Harry, Harry- H, oh my god.” She bleated, nails digging into his arm. The constant stimulation was only making her more wet and he seemed to be loving it.

Harry was drunk on the feeling, his own orgasm trailing right behind hers as he worked her through it. She’d made a mess, one he was happy to have all over his skin. The scent of her on him would be his reward, her marks even more so. “M’gonna cum.” He growled. “Where? Where do y’want my cum, baby? Tell me where you want it.”

“Inside. Inside me, please, give it to me there.” Her legs wrapped around him tighter, making it nearly impossible for him to pull out- like he’d ever want to. His balls tightened at the words, eyes blazing as he looked down at her face. She seemed just as far gone as him, the suction of her soaked channel making him feel borderline insane.

“You- Fuck, Yeah? You want me to give you my load in that perfect cunt?” His grip on her tightened, sure to leave bruises but that was a problem for a later time. It had been a fantasy of his forever, his spunk dripping from her swollen pussy and now she wanted it- was begging for it. There was no mistaking her rapid nod, head tipped up at him as she whispered ‘please, please, please, give it to me’ and fuck, Harry was only so strong.

He did exactly as asked, his sloppy thrusts hard as he grunted while coming to his end. It flashed over his vision as the loudest groan left his swollen lips, hips stuttering as he buried deep and let loose. Spurts of cum leaving his tip as he unloaded inside of her, the pulsing of his prick felt by both of them as he emptied his balls of every drop of cum. Claiming her, marking her in a symbolic way and the way he’d always been desperate to do.

There was little hesitation as he took her mouth again, giving her a deep kiss. Tongue running over the roof of her mouth before sucking on her tongue, the most unhinged kiss he’d felt in his life as she clung to him and her cunt continued to milk him of every little bit. “Fuck.” He laughed in disbelief against her mouth. He was coated in a light sheen of sweat, Y/N’s hair was a mess and he was still snugly wrapped up in her as he gently moved her back so she was more comfortable on the counter. His hand came up to stroke her cheek, watching her hazy eyes look back into his own. This was his wet dream come true, but Y/N had no idea the man she had just unleashed. He was just… happy. Satisfied, motivated and fucking happy. This wasn’t just a fuck for him. “Meant what I said.” His voice was hoarse as he fawned over her, adjusting her hair so it didn’t stick to her forehead. “M’gonna keep you. This isn’t a one and done and I plan on treating you the way you’ve always fuckin’ deserved.” His lips sampled hers again, feeling her arms come up over his shoulders as she reciprocated. “You’re my dream woman, Y/N. M’gonna make sure m’your dream man.”

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aemondsbabe · 4 months

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Making Amends

summary: a fancy party & praising || you finally see why michael hates going home for the holidays and treat him the way he deserves

pairing: michael gavey x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, breast/nipple play, heavy praise, riding, brief cockwarming, cursing, brief mention of daddy kink but it’s not used, dirty talk, angy michael (not at reader), angst but happy ending, parents being stupid, choking, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.4k

a/n: happy day twelve of 12 days of smuff!!! we did it!!! a very merry christmas to all those who celebrate; i hope your holidays are full of love and fun! I hope y’all enjoy this one & i look forward to writing many more stories in the new year! also, a very very big thank you to my sweetie pie @officerbrowneyes for editing michael into a lil suit!

TAUNT | Part 1

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

this one can be read as a continuation of taunt & praise or as a stand alone!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Ohh, Michael!” An older woman croons, making you and your boyfriend turn your heads at the same time, “How lovely to see you!”

“Nice to see you too, Aunt Janet.” Michael says, his voice monotone, and gives the woman an awkward half-hug. You give him a sympathetic grin when he rolls his eyes at you over her shoulder.

“And who is this?” She asks, turning to look you up and down with a smile.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Michael explains, taking a second to introduce the two of you, “We met at uni.”

“Nice to meet you.” You smile politely and shake her hand.

“How wonderful!” She turns to you and puts a hand on your forearm before leaning in slightly with a grin, “We were beginning to give up on this one ever finding someone to put up with him!” She grins, giggling like it’s the funniest joke in the world.

You merely awkwardly chuckle, though it only takes one glance at Michael to know he’s fuming. You can’t really blame him, this is how it’s been all evening, ever since you’d arrived at his parents house. Michael had tried to talk you out of accompanying him to their annual Christmas party, claiming that hell would be a lesser punishment, but you’d insisted, saying it couldn’t be that bad.

When you’d first pulled up to the Gavey’s home, you’d been excited! They’d gone all out with the decorations, though Michael claimed they usually did, but that didn’t stop you from marveling at all the garland, lights, and wreaths that adorned every inch of the house. And since this year’s party was apparently more formal than usual, that just gave you the chance to ogle at your boyfriend in a tux, which was an automatic win in your book.

And yet, here you are, listening to yet another joke at Michael’s expense and hating every second of it. It seemed like every relative and family friend had one in store, if it wasn’t about finally finding someone to put up with him, it was about what he must’ve done to bribe you into it, or that he must be paying you to be here. Not to mention the backhanded compliments; you’d grown so tired of hearing remarks about how they’re so happy that Michael had finally found someone or, “Oh, finally! Took him long enough!”

“Old fucking bat,” Michael mutters under his breath as Aunt Janet totters off, “Knew we shouldn’t have come.” He grumbles, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“M’sorry, babe,” you sigh, giving him a small half smile as you place a comforting hand on his leg, “I don’t understand why they can’t simply be nice.

He scoffs next to you, rolling his eyes with a sardonic smile, “Wouldn’t be a real Gavey Christmas without snide comments, fucking losers.”

The evening continues in the same fashion and suddenly you understand why Michael has always been so defensive and eager to prove himself, you would be too in a family like this.

You can tell your boyfriend is operating on a very short fuse and offer him a placating smile every time you notice him clenching his jaw or notice his breathing pick up, chest heaving under his black suit jacket.

However, it’s finally a comment his father makes during dinner that sets him off. You’ve hardly started eating when it happens, with everyone sitting around the Gavey’s impressively large dining room table passing various dishes back and forth.

“So,” Mrs. Gavey started, giving Michael a pointed look as she refilled her glass of wine, “How were your marks this term?”

You glance down in time to see your boyfriend white knuckle his fork and quickly stroke a hand over his knee, which seems to help lessen his tension somewhat, thankfully.

“Distinctions,” he answers dryly, keeping his eyes fixed on the table, “Obviously.”

His mom simply nods, not offering any praise or even a generic, “Well done,” much to your surprise.

And a few seconds later, everything blows up.

“How’s that friend of yours doing?” Mr. Gavey butts in, setting his steak knife down as he speaks, “What was his name? Owen… Oscar, maybe?”

“Oliver.” Michael corrects him, so quickly and quietly that you’re surprised his dad even catches it.

“Oliver! Of course, and how’s he doing? Hm? You haven’t mentioned him in some time.”

There’s a beat of silence in which you fight the urge to kick Mr. Gavey under the table, knowing exactly where this would go.

“We don’t… talk anymore. I haven’t seen him for ages.” He grits out; his leg tenses up under your palm once again when his mother lets out a disappointed sigh, as if she were getting ready to scold a small child.

“Michael, honestly,” she starts with a small shake of her head, “It’s not good for you to be so socially isolated all the time.”

“I’m fine.”

“What about that other boy you used to go around with, hm?” His mom continues on, seemingly oblivious to his foul mood, “The one you were so close to in primary school, oh, he was lovely.”

“Felix, wasn’t it?” Mr. Gavey quips, “Whatever happened to him? I always thought he had such a good head on his shoulders.”

“He’s a cunt.” Your boyfriend seethes lowly, all but vibrating with rage as he spits each word out.

“What was that, dear?” His mom asks, none the wiser.

“He’s a cunt!” Michael exclaims, his fork clattering across the table as he tosses it down, scraping his chair back across the floor.

“Michael!” Mrs. Gavey chides, a horrified look on her normally placid face as she, quite literally, clutches at her pearls.

“If you’ll fucking excuse me.” Michael mutters, tossing his cloth napkin down onto the table with a dull thud before retreating from the table with a growl.

The silence that follows is deafening as everyone stays frozen at the table for a moment; you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the shell shocked expression on his grandmother’s face.

After a beat, Mr. and Mrs. Gavey begin falling all over themselves to apologize, awkwardly laughing as they make excuses for Michael, as if their bullying hadn’t made him snap.

“I’m gonna go check on him,” you say after a moment, giving polite smiles to his parents as you stand from the table, “Just to make sure he’s okay.”

“Of course, dear,” his mother nods sagely, ever the beacon of motherly wisdom, “We know how sensitive little Michael is.”

As soon as your back is turned you roll your eyes, nose wrinkling in disgust. Little Michael? What the fuck?

It only takes you a minute to locate him upstairs as you quickly spot the door to his childhood bedroom tightly closed. You smile sadly as you walk over to it, you pause for a moment before knocking softly.

“Michael?” You call, pressing an ear against the door, “You in there?” Your brows furrow when you hear a small sniffle from the other side of the door and your hand automatically goes to the doorknob, a sigh of relief leaving you when it easily turns.

Your heart breaks when you push the door open and peek inside, quickly spotting Michael on his bed, head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

“Oh,” you breathe, hastily closing the door as you let yourself into his room, “Michael.” You sigh, sitting beside him on his small twin bed and slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“M’fine…” He says softly, dejectedly.

“You are not,” you pull him to you, rubbing a hand over his bicep as you hold him closely, “No one would expect you to be, not after all that.”

He merely nods and tucks his head into your neck, sniffling sadly as his blond hair tickles your chin, one arm wraps around you while he busies himself with plucking lightly at the hem of your dress, running his finger over the smooth satin seam.

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask softly, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of his head.

“Not tonight,” his voice is muffled slightly against your collarbone as he speaks, “Please.”

You nod, opting to stay quiet and simply hold him for the time being.

You don’t know how much time passes but eventually, he seems to calm down, at least his shoulders stop trembling and he stops rubbing at his eyes and sniffling.

Finally, once his breathing has evened out, you decide to speak up.

“They don’t deserve you.” You murmur, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your heart twisting when you see his beautiful blue eyes rimmed with red.

“Love…” He sighs, ready to fight you on it.

“That’s all I wanted to say,” you assure him quickly, “They don’t.”

You hold his face in your hands gently, studying him with a soft smile. He really did look delectable in his suit, so smartly put together and polished.

Michael must be feeling the same way, no doubt riding the small high that usually came after a solid rush of emotion. His eyes darken as he looks back at you, Adam’s apple bobbing enticingly in his throat as he swallows thickly.

You don’t know who moves first, unable to find it within yourself to care as his warm lips slot perfectly against your own.

A relieved groan sounds from his chest and his hands immediately come up to cup your waist, his thumbs rubbing appreciatively over the soft material of your dress as you shiver, already getting lost in his touch.

“Mikey,” you murmur, biting into your lower lip as he kisses down across your jaw, his hands scrambling to pull you into his lap, “S-Should we?” Your voice trembles as he gently sucks at the sensitive spot on your neck, drawing your mind further and further from the party taking place downstairs.

“Need you,” he rasps, unable to stop himself from smirking as you keen against him when he skirts his hands up your form to cup your breasts through your dress, your nipples already hard and wanting against the satin, “Just – I need you, love.”

He’s so desperate, you couldn’t say no and finally decide to throw caution to the wind. You smile triumphantly as you run your hands over his trim waist, tucking them under his jacket to get closer to him, savoring the feel of his warm skin even through the thin material of his button down.

Finally, you push the suit jacket off his shoulders and, needing to feel him against you, waste no time hastily undoing the buttons on his shirt, yanking it out from under his trousers and belt before quickly dropping both to the floor.

Apparently just as impatient, Michael chooses to simply push the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders and growls deeply when your dress falls down your chest, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. Without missing a beat, he pulls you closer to him, groaning as your core presses tightly against his still-clothed erection. As soon as your chest is level with his face, he mouths at the underside of your breast, cupping the other in his hand. He peers up at you through his glasses, already fogging up against his cheeks, as he wraps his pink lips around your nipple and gingerly sucks it into his mouth, groaning against your supple skin at the breathy moan you let out.

You hold his head against your chest, fingers gripping tightly at his short hair as your head tilts back, small whimpers and whines escaping past your lips as you try your best to stay quiet. Your hips seem to move of their own accord, rocking against him as he worships your breasts.

“Michael,” you whimper, your core clenching tightly when you look down and take in his flushed face. You press your lips against his again, frantically kissing him as your tongue invades his mouth, “What do you want?”

“You.” His reply is automatic, his hands kneading greedily at your tits as he stares up at you, bare chest already heaving.

You can’t help but chuckle a little, pride blooming in your chest at the fact that he’s already this strung out. Nevertheless, you give a quick shake of your head, smirking when he whines impatiently.

“How do you want me, Mikey?”

The desperate look behind his eyes softens instantly, his pink lips parting enough to reveal the tiniest sliver of his front teeth. Somehow, he blushes more and just barely shakes his head at you, swallowing thickly like he always does when he’s flustered.

“Can you be on top?” He asks quietly, blue eyes flitting between yours behind his gold-rimmed glasses, “I just – I don’t have it in me to be daddy tonight, love.” He confesses quickly.

You chuckle again, always impressed with him when he shows his more vulnerable side, and instantly you nod, cupping his soft cheeks again.

“Of course I can do that,” you keep your voice soft, even the small kiss you give him is soft, “Lay back for me, yeah? I don’t wanna wait.”

Nodding eagerly, he doesn’t waste time and leans back on the narrow bed, helping you climb atop him as he does. He groans appreciatively as you settle on his hips, licking his lips as he stares up at you. He watches as your breasts heave with every breath while his hands trace down over your hips to cup your ass.

“You’re so beautiful, love,” he murmurs, tugging your dress up over your bum before kneading the supple flesh, watching intently as you whimper above him, “So soft and pretty and fuck– fucking perfect.” He finishes with a growl, blue eyes rolling back when you rock down against him.

Heat courses through your veins at his words and you hurry to undo his belt, the metal buckle tinkling softly in the quiet of his bedroom as you push it to the side, too frantic to bother to pull it off him entirely. Your fingers quickly find the button of his trousers and you all but yank them open the second you have the zipper undone, sighing happily as his hard cock bobs against his stomach, the head already flushed and steadily leaking.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, his back arching a little with the relief of his erection finally being freed, “Y’gonna ride me, princess?”

“Mhm,” you nod with a smirk, wiggling on his lap as you situate yourself perfectly above his length, “You deserve to be taken care of, Michael.” You coo softly, bending forward a little to pull your lacy underwear to the side, not having the patience to properly remove them.

Your comment seems to have gone to your boyfriend’s head and you smirk when you feel his cock jump up, twitching against your center as a soft groan leaves him. You bite your lip when you grab his length, loving how warm it felt in your hand. Carefully, you position him at your dripping center and slot the head against your entrance.

Both of you moan in unison as you sink down slowly, his thick length filling you completely as your hips finally press against his.

“Goddammit,” he curses, roughly grabbing your ass as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself anchored even though he knows in the back of his mind it’s useless with how tightly you’re gripping him, “You feel so fucking good, pretty girl, fucking love this sweet little cunt.”

His praises go straight to your core and you clench around him, somehow tighter, making him grunt underneath you. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you start moving your hips over him, using your thighs to push off of his lap before sinking back down, whining when you feel the head of his cock press perfectly against that delicious little spot inside you.

“You’re so good, Mikey, fuck,” you pant, fighting to keep your eyes open to savor each expression that crosses his flushed face, “Y-You feel so perfect, holy shit, everything about you is perfect.”

He groans deeply, lower lip trembling as he stares up at you in awe, brows furrowed as he takes in every inch of you. Blue eyes trace slowly over your form, lingering on your face before looking over your breasts. He swallows thickly as he pauses to watch them bounce tantalizingly, matching every one of your thrusts against him. Eventually, he looks down and moans softly, watching your slick pussy move over his length.

“Yeah, princess?” He encourages, making you smile softly as you realize how badly he needs this, how badly he needs to be told how good he is.

“Y-Yeah, shit,” you whimper, head spinning when he leans up to lick over one of your nipples, gently suckling at the bud as you continue, “You’re the best, Michael, fuck – best boyfriend, you’re so smart and s-so precious and f-funny and – and God!”

You practically squeal when his thumb comes down to rub at your clit, your eyes crossing at the sudden jolt of pleasure that washes over you.

“I love you, holy fuck,” you huff, thighs burning as you move somehow quicker over him, “I love you, I love – oh, shit – everything about you.” Your voice is hoarse as you breathe through soft pants, practically squirming on top of him as your head spins every time he circles his thumb over you.

“I love you too, princess,” he hums, pulling you down for a quick, desperate kiss, “You’re so damn good to me.”

“You deserve it,” you say quickly, swallowing as you pant above him, your heart hammering wildly in your chest, “You deserve everything, Michael, you’re so, so good.”

He growls at that, lips parting as he watches you. He keeps circling a thumb over your clit but fans the rest of his fingers out, holding your hip more securely. You hardly have time to think before you squeak in surprise, gasping as he begins rutting his hips up into you, the tip of his cock hitting your sensitive spot at a dizzying speed.

“O-Oh, shit!” You huff, eyes wide and wild, “Michael, Mikey, I –” You cut yourself off with a loud cry, too loud given the circumstances, but your brain whites out the second he reaches up and wraps a hand around your throat, not tightly enough to choke you but enough to hold you steady above him.

“Y’close, love?” He pants, smirking when you quickly nod, “Fucking cum with me, princess, shit, you fucking deserve it.” He hisses through clenched teeth.

All you can do is obey, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders as your high finally washes over you. You freeze, tensing up above him as you cry out, uncaring for the party below as your cunt clenches tightly around his length, rhythmically milking him.

“Shit, shit, fuck,” he grunts beneath you, eyes rolling back as he feels your walls contracting around his cock, drawing his own high from him as well, “Good girl, good girl.” He praises before finally cumming with a snarl. You whimper when you feel him twitch inside you, coating your walls with his thick spend.

The two of you lay panting for a while, neither of you wanting to get up or break the spell of the safe little bubble you seem to be stuck in as you lazily press kisses against whatever bits of skin you can reach.

Eventually, the sound of holiday music seems to float up to you from downstairs, along with the sounds of laughter and loud conversation. In the background, you can just barely make out the sound of wrapping paper tearing and taped boxes being pulled open.

“Sounds like it’s time for gifts,” you muse, tracing shapes on Michael’s chest as he holds you to him, softening length still buried within you, “You wanna join them again?”

He hums softly and shakes his head no with a small smile before tilting his head to look at you, his glasses sitting slightly crooked on his nose as he studies your flushed face. One hand rubs soothingly over your back as he holds you tightly to him, relishing the way your soft skin feels against him.

“Don’t need any gifts from those entitled idiots,” he laughs softly and leans down just enough to press a soft, sweet kiss to your forehead, “I have the most perfect gift right here with me already.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolfdressedinlace @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc

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#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey smut #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fanfic #saltburn smut #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #my writing #12 days of smuff

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asahicore · 9 months

Text

love calculator - pjh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!jihoon x fem!reader

synopsis. You were sure that Jihoon only took care of you so well because your brother had tasked him with looking after you when you started university, so you tried not to read too much into his actions until you couldn't deny your increasing sensitivity around your best friend anymore. What you didn't know was Jihoon was going crazy, finding ways to make his feelings for you more obvious than they already were.

genre. f2l, brother's friend, slight childhood friends action, college au, slow burn?, fluff, smut (mutual first time, they do it raw, dirty talking, very soft dom!jihoon)

warnings. jihoon is a menace, jihoon has a hot bod, junkyu is mean to everyone, mc is a bit slow, side romance but i dont actually ship idols i have a life, omegle, ok theres no actual stuff to be warned about its all good in there

word count. 28.2k dont ask me why or how idk either

a/n. there she is... i spent SO much time on her pls love it lots or i'll cry.. it was sm fun writing for jihoon omg i hope u love hoonyn as much as i do !!! @zreamy my dear sweet little zo ty for betareading this and freaking out over jihoon u rock

1K follower trope event - requested by @mosviqu, tysm for requesting and i really hope u enjoy it !!!! - listen to the playlist!

Oddly enough, it was Jihoon’s biceps that first made you think something was wrong with you.

It was the fourth week of the spring semester, that odd in-between when you knew midterms were creeping up but were still far away enough to be ignored. This meant that you could party guilt-free.

The plan for tonight was to pregame at one of those huge uni dorms where ten students shared a kitchen then head to an overpriced club downtown that always had the best music on Friday nights. You didn’t have any classes on Fridays, so you’d headed to Jihoon’s place around four p.m. to get ready together. Usually, that was something you’d do with Minjeong, your roommate, but that weekend, she was away for an excursion with her Geography course.

He was in the shower when you rang the doorbell, so his flatmate let you in, and you made yourself comfortable on his bed while waiting for him. You were so engrossed in the romance Webtoon you’d started that morning that at first, when he came in, you didn’t even look up from your phone.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said casually, unfazed by your sudden appearance in his room. The soft smell of his body wash filled the room, and you noted with smugness that it was the one you had jokingly given him for Christmas after you’d gotten fed up with his strong, ever-present Axe scent.

“Hey, Hoonie. You smell nice. For once.”

He chuckled. “It’s all thanks to you.”

“What would you do without me?” you said with a sigh, then looked up. You shouldn’t have. “Oh.”

The sight you were met with was unlike anything you’d ever seen in real life - Jihoon in all his post-shower half-naked glory, a simple white towel hanging low on his hips. Small beads of water fell from his hair and dripped down his chiseled chest and onto the plush carpet lining his bedroom.

You were pretty sure you’d seen at least five scenes like this in your romance comics.

“Oh?” he parroted.

You squinted your eyes at your friend before turning your attention back to your phone. “You’re naked.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw his grin widen. “I’m wearing a towel.”

“A towel isn’t clothes.” He turned around to rummage through his closet, and you took that opportunity to observe him more closely. This was the first time you saw your friend without a shirt, and you were trying your very hardest to not freak out, but it was a bit hard not to. Who would have known that under his baggy shirts and sweaters, Jihoon was hiding firm abs, broad shoulders, defined back muscles and protruding biceps?

His arms were what really got you, because you felt like you should have noticed them before. You’d already caught yourself staring a little bit too hard at the veins on his hands and forearms during a lecture before, so you could’ve conjectured that the upper part of his arms was well-defined as well. As mesmerizing as the shifting of his shoulder muscles was, what you really couldn’t look away from was the bump that formed his bicep.

“Jihoon, have you always had… arms?”

You had barely even realized you’d said this out loud until Jihoon turned around, a confused look on his face. His lips drew into a smirk when he saw how fixed your gaze on his biceps was.

“No, they just grew recently. Thank you for noticing.”

“No, I mean… arms. Muscles.”

“Oh, these?” he said, flexing his arms and pecking his biceps in such a cheesy way that it snapped you out of your reverie and made you burst into laughter. “I started working on them last year so, yeah, they’ve been around a while.”

“Huh,” you said, then picked your phone up again and resumed your reading. “Well, you should work harder, ‘cause it’s the first time I noticed them.”

Jihoon scoffed. “Don’t act like you weren’t just drooling over my dream bod just seconds ago.”

You looked up, outraged. “I wasn’t drooling, I was observing. And don’t call it a dream bod, that’s gross.”

“My bod is a dream bod.”

“Stop it.”

“Can you look away from my dream bod for a sec? I need to put some pants on.”

“I’m already actively not looking. This dude is way hotter than you, by the way,” you said, waving your phone.

“Let me see him,” Jihoon said, heading towards you after successfully putting a shirt and sweatpants on. Gray sweatpants, you realized with a frown. He took your phone and looked back and forth between the character on the screen and you, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Y/N, this is a two-dimensional fictional character that exists in a fairyland. It hurts my feelings when you call him hotter than me.”

A lip grew on your lips. “Yes, but he has pointy ears and doesn’t refer to his body as a dream bod, so he’s a ten in my books.”

As you spoke, Jihoon lay down on his bed, stretching his arms behind his head and resting it on his palms, looking up at you with a grin. You didn’t know what to make of the sudden flip of your stomach.

“Will I be a ten in your books if I stop calling it a dream bod?”

You laughed. “Dream bod doesn’t even sound real anymore.”

“I don’t think it ever was, to be honest,” Jihoon replied, laughing along. “Or maybe they invented it for me.”

After that riveting discussion, you watched the show you’d been watching together (which, you had been surprised to find, Jihoon had the discipline to not watch ahead for), then finished getting ready. That night out hadn’t been particularly extraordinary. Pre-gaming had been fun and chaotic, but the line at the club had been so long that you’d all sobered up by the time you were inside and none of you felt compelled to pay for six dollar shots. At least the good music and nice DJ that took all of your requests made up for it.

The interesting bit happened on the bus ride back home.

By some miracle, Jihoon had run into some of his friendly course seniors that apparently liked him so much, they decided to pay for all of his drinks. Only an hour after getting into the club, he was nothing short of wasted. In your five months of being at university with him, you’d not once seen him in such a state - disheveled hair (from dancing too hard or from getting his hair ruffled like a cute dog by all of his seniors, you weren’t sure), deep red blush staining his cheeks, forehead, ears and neck, unfocused eyes and constant lopsided grin. When he almost tripped over his own feet during Gimme More by Britney Spears, you knew it was time to go home.

Jihoon was usually the one that had to deal with a drunk you, so you didn’t mind taking care of him this time. It was actually kind of fun, seeing this new side of the person who had become your closest friend in the past months.

Luckily for you, a night bus ran directly from the downtown area you were in to the street you and Jihoon lived on, and you managed to lug him to the bus stop. Getting him onto the bus and into a seat was an arduous task, but you made it, and were enjoying a calm, uneventful ride home until you felt Jihoon’s head drop onto your shoulder. You thought he’d just fallen asleep, but then the unmistakable sound of his voice made itself known to your ears.

“Y/N, Y/N…” Jihoon murmured with a muffled voice, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You tried to ignore the prickly feeling down your spine when his lips moved against your skin.

“Yes, Hoonie?” you asked, a tilt of amusement to your voice. You really had never seen your friend so intoxicated.

He sighed, lifting his head from your shoulder and resting it against the window with a bang. He didn’t even wince at the impact of his head against the glass - the alcohol had apparently rid him of the sensation of pain.

“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled, voice so quiet you had to ask him to repeat himself. “I said don’t call me that!”

You were taken aback by his sudden burst of irritation, but he sounded more like an upset child than anything.

“Call you what? Hoonie?”

“Yes.”

“Why? I’ve always called you that.” You tilted your head at him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road outside.

“Exactly. You’re the only one who calls me that. Everyone else says Jihoon,” he said, annoyance clear in his voice. It sounded like this had been bothering him for a while, but it was complete news to you. “Can’t you even be bothered to say my full name, or something?”

You chuckled and brushed some hair out of his face. Like an angry cartoon character, he puffed air out of his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. His frown deepened and a blush spread over his face that was already red from the alcohol. “Should I call you Jihoon from now on?” you asked softly.

His reaction was immediate. He whipped around, almost knocking your head with his, a look of total alarm on his face. His eyes were almost teary. “No!” he exclaimed loudly, garnering glares from some of the other passengers in the bus who probably wanted some quiet this late at night. “No,” he repeated, this time more quietly, and turned back to the window.

In slight disbelief, you chuckled again. “What am I supposed to call you, then?”

“Just-” he started, but cut himself off with a sigh. “Just call me whatever.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’ll stick to Hoonie, then.”

He groaned as he lifted his head from the window and let it fall back against your shoulder. The angle must’ve made it highly uncomfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. He only stayed still for a few seconds before shifting slightly and burying his face in the dip between your shoulder and your neck once more, then let out a low hum of satisfaction.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled. Your breath caught in your throat. He was too close, his lips were too soft and his breath was too warm against your skin. Your whole body felt hot, like the bus driver had suddenly cranked the heat up and turned the bus into a sauna. “Like almonds,” he added, pressing his nose deeper into the base of your neck and inhaling there.

You tried to laugh, hoping it would dissipate the tension in your body, but it only came out as a choked sound. “It’s my body lotion,” you explained, voice weaker than you’d intended.

“Hm.”

You didn’t know what it was about Jihoon’s proximity that made your head spin so - no one had ever made you feel this way, and the fact that your body was reacting so intensely to someone you had considered your best friend for the past months made it all the more confusing.

“Are you asleep?” you asked him in a small voice after he’d been silent for some minutes.

“Just sleepy,” he murmured, shifting in his seat again. You tried not to shiver at the tickling sensation of his hair against your neck.

A pause. “Jihoon?”

“Don’t call me that.” You smiled, but there was a slight whine to his voice that, for some reason, made your heart ache.

You corrected yourself. “Hoon?”

“Mmh?”

“Why did it bother you that I call you Hoonie, all of a sudden?”

He took so long to answer that you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. “Because… every time you call me that, it makes me love you more,” he answered, voice getting gradually lower until it became a whisper.

Everything seemed to disappear around you. The other passengers, the seat underneath you, the blinking lights and the night sky outside the window. It was just you and Jihoon, his body warm next to yours and the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth.

“Makes you… love… me?” you echoed tentatively.

But no answer came. When you bent your head down to look at Jihoon, it seemed like he had fallen completely asleep, mouth slightly agape and the blush of alcohol still red on his face. You didn’t know what to make of his words, but there was no point asking him about them now. So you let him sleep on your shoulder, only waking him once you were nearing his stop.

Jihoon woke up the next morning with a pounding head and a bruised ego.

He had always prided himself in his ability to drink copious amounts of alcohol and yet only end up tipsy. Sure, it wasn’t exactly good for his body, but it meant that he never had to turn down a drink or watch on the sidelines as his friends did shots, and he could still get home just fine and not wake up with a head-splitting hangover the next day. Unlike you, who started giggling for no reason after one pint of beer and who tore it up on the dancefloor or talked to strangers like you’d been besties for years after two shots of tequila.

It only made his state of the previous night that much more embarrassing. He wished he had your amazing memory-erasing superpowers - but sadly, he didn’t, and what happened in the bus was glued to his brain.

Before he could even lift his head or get a cup of water, his phone rang, the sound invading his ears and splitting his head in two. He slid a thumb across his phone to accept the video call and was greeted by a close-up of Junkyu’s smiling face.

“Rise and shine! I heard someone got their party on last night.”

Jihoon groaned loudly, chucking his phone somewhere on his bed so he didn’t have to see his friend’s face anymore. His was definitely not the face he wanted to see first thing in the morning. Unfortunately for Jihoon, Junkyu had been blessed with an extraordinarily loud voice that still rang clear even when the speakers of Jihoon’s phone were stifled by his blankets.

“Y/N sent me a video of you. You looked ridiculous, man.”

“I hate you. I hate your face, I hate the way you talk, I hate how mean you are to me-”

“I can’t hear you. What was that?”

With another groan and a lot of difficulty, Jihoon raised his upper body and retrieved his phone. “You suck.”

Junkyu’s smile widened. “Well, that’s all from me. Have a glass of water!” he said cheerily before hanging up. Jihoon had never wanted to kill someone so badly.

His murderous feelings softened when he turned his head to find a plastic bottle of water and a headache pill along with a handwritten note on his bedside table. Have this and text me when you wake up! with five hearts at the bottom. It wasn’t signed, but he knew it was from you.

When the two of you met up for brunch sometime later, he kept searching your face and reading into your actions for any sign that what he’d said last night had made you uncomfortable. He’d expected you to be awkward around him, but your attitude almost made him think he’d imagined the whole thing. You joked around with him as usual, as if he hadn’t practically confessed to you last night, and he was desperate to know what might be going through your mind.

Had you forgotten? Had you chalked it up to him being drunk and talking nonsense? Had he had just thought it very hard, and not actually said it out loud? Or, worst of all, had you heard it all and understood him and decided to just ignore it for the sake of your friendship?

Jihoon was going crazy. He could barely taste his chicken and waffles.

The truth was, you just had no idea what to make of his words, and you were scared bringing it up might make things awkward. Jihoon could have forgotten all about it, or he could have meant something entirely different from where your wild, romance-comic-filled imagination went. Save for his tired eyes and groggy voice, he was no different at breakfast than he usually was, so you dropped it.

“Okay, Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go home now.”

Different Friday night, different party. A week had passed and neither of you had mentioned what Jihoon had said on the bus - it wasn’t quite out of your minds just yet, but you’d both separately decided to pretend nothing had happened.

This time, Jihoon had found you in the hallway playing beer pong and downing the cup of beer your opponent had thrown the ball into. Everybody cheered you on as you gulped the cheap liquid down before lifting the empty cup over your head, eyes screwed shut at the unpleasant bitterness in your mouth. Jihoon wasn’t sure why you were playing - you hated beer, and you had one of the worst throws he’d ever seen. But even he, who was supposed to look after you, couldn’t suppress a smile at your attempt and inevitable total fail at scoring a point for your team. Even with all the concentration in the world, the sheer amount of alcohol in your system would’ve made it impossible for you to make it.

Back against the wall and arms crossed over his chest, he watched amusedly as you squinted your eyes at the cups across the table from you, even sticking out your tongue as if that would make your aim any better. After a few tense seconds, you threw the ping-pong ball and hit Lee Jeno right in the chest. You’d giggled at your own failure, letting people pat you on the back for trying and reassure you that it’s okay (even though you really didn’t care) before stumbling right into Jihoon.

As soon as you’d recognized your friend’s face, you’d thrown your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a hug as you yelled his name happily; his hands had come up to your hips and gently pushed your body away from his. Then, he’d said the words you always hated to hear at a party.

“But we just got here!” you cried, the same answer you always gave him when he wanted to leave. You started walking away from him and back into the kitchen for more alcohol. He sighed but was quick to follow you.

“We got here three hours ago. Plus we did pres at Yoshi’s place. You’ve had way more than enough to drink,” he said, snatching a cup you’d just filled with punch from your hands.

“I was gonna drink that!” you complained, leaning against the counter for support.

Jihoon took in your swaying body and your dazed eyes and knew he had to get you home. Any more alcohol and you’d pass out in this stranger’s apartment. Usually, he’d let you drink to your heart’s content and just make sure you got home safe afterwards, but midterms were coming up, and you’d planned on studying the next day - he was just trying to minimize the severity of your hangover.

You mustered your most pitiful expression - to drunk you, there was no way Jihoon could resist your pouty lips and sad eyes. “Do we really have to go?” you asked, and Jihoon had to read your lips because of the loud music.

He smirked, seeing right through your little act. He bent his upper body so that his lips were right next to your ear. “You’ll thank me tomorrow,” he replied, making you drop your fake sad expression.

“I should go say bye to Minjeong and the others first.”

“I’ve already told them we were leaving.”

You rolled his eyes at him and his stupid smile and lifted yourself from the counter, immediately losing your balance. Maybe you had drunk too much. At least Jihoon was there to catch you and prevent you from falling. He tried to put his arm around your shoulder to support you but you stepped away from him and fixed him a pointed look.

“I can still walk, you know.”

Jihoon smiled but said nothing, gesturing at you to go on and walk. You turned around and started making your way out of the place, ignoring Jihoon’s snickers as you bumped into various party-goers and pieces of furniture.

When you reached the front door, you decided that actually, no, you couldn’t walk. Sliding against the wall, you let yourself drop into a crouching position. Your head suddenly felt like it was twice its normal weight and you regretted those last few shots of whatever it was you had drunk.

Jihoon sighed as he lowered himself and grabbed you under your armpits to lift you up. He had never been more thankful for an elevator and a bus stop only a minute’s walk away from where you were. Standing under bright lights in a desert and quiet street, it appeared like an oasis to Jihoon. Whoever’s party this had been, they lived in a really calm part of town. At this time on a Friday night, Jihoon’s street would be teeming with drunk students deciding which bar or club they should head to next.

You had never been more thankful for a bus stop with seats. You plopped yourself down on one of them, resting your head on the glass behind you and tightening your jacket around your shoulders. You closed your eyes, deciding this was the perfect time for a nap.

“Are you cold?” Jihoon asked, his voice keeping you from nodding off. You let out a non-committal hum in response which he wasn’t sure how to interpret. He chuckled and you heard a rustling sound before feeling an added weight on top of your body. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, then sat by your side.

Next thing you knew, Jihoon was making you stand again, and your feet moved of their own accord as he led you inside the bus. As soon as you were seated, you drifted back off to sleep. You jolted awake when your head drooped over, making you feel like you were falling. You sat up straight and looked around the empty bus, frantically asking Jihoon where you were.

“I’m taking you home,” he answered, laughter clear in his voice.

“Oh, okay,” you mumbled, and closed your eyes once more, falling back asleep in a matter of seconds.

Jihoon watched with a tender smile as your mouth opened slightly and let soft snores escape it. Scooting closer to you, he placed his palm on your cheek and pulled your head towards his shoulder so it could rest there.

“Why do you drink so much if you can’t handle it?” he asked quietly, even though he knew you were already in dreamland.

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt like a kid who had fallen asleep in the car on the way home from a distant relative's wedding and mysteriously woken up in their bed. You stretched out your limbs, enjoying the softness and warmth of your sheets covering your body until a headache and pasty mouth hit you like a ton of bricks. It felt like the alcohol had made your brain shrivel inside of your skull - your whole body was screaming for water.

Some kind of miracle had made a large glass of water appear on your bedside table, and you gulped it down in mere seconds. The hour on your phone read 10:24 a.m. - so much for getting up early and going to study at the library.

You’d have rather stayed curled up under your blankets and slept the rest of your hangover off, but some rustling noises from the kitchen (and an intense need to pee) forced you out of the comfort of your bed. You stumbled into the kitchen to find Jihoon placing a pancake atop an already dangerously high stack.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he greeted you, glancing at you with a smirk on his face as you made your way towards him. You stood behind him and rested your forehead at the base of his neck, as if catching a few last seconds of sleep.

The feeling of your hair against his skin sent shivers down his spine and he hoped his shaky intake of breath had gone unnoticed by you. His pancake was ready and he had to put it on the plate behind him, but as if a cat had fallen asleep in his lap, he couldn’t get himself to move. This was a moment he wanted to cherish - although you never particularly kept your distance from him, he was still always greedy for more of your touch.

“Hey, Hoonie,” you replied in a groggy voice. “Thank you for breakfast,” you said, moving to rest your lower back against the counter next to the stove. He missed you immediately. “And sorry for being a nuisance last night.”

Jihoon smiled at you as he turned to place the pancake on the stack. Then he leaned in slightly and you made sure not to breathe through your mouth so he wouldn’t smell your morning breath.

“You always apologize, and yet who’s dragging you home every single weekend?” he asked with an amused grin that let you know he wasn’t actually bothered by it.

He turned back to his pan and ladled more batter into it, forming a perfectly circular pancake. “Sorry,” you repeated guiltily.

He shook his head. “I’d rather be there and make sure you get home safe. And it’s not like I don’t have fun at those parties.”

A small smile on your lips, you nodded and let his words assuage your guilt. “I’ll make coffee as a token of my gratitude.”

“How kind of you,” Jihoon teased, beaming.

No matter how many times Jihoon reassured you, you still felt bad that he thought it his obligation to do those things for you.

Although you’d only grown closer at the beginning of your first year of university, now six months ago, you and Jihoon had known each other since you were thirteen, and he fourteen. You still remembered his braces, wide boba eyes and round cheeks from your teenage years - when you saw him again five years later, you couldn’t deny your surprise at his much… manlier appearance. Sharper jaw, broader shoulders, taller figure, deeper voice - it was hard to recognize the Jihoon you’d known and the Jihoon in front of you as the same person.

His parents’ job made their family move around a lot - your town had been their fifth home since Jihoon’s birth already. The year and a half they stayed went by far too quickly, and before you knew it, you already had to say goodbye. Jihoon and Junkyu had grown really close in that year, and since you were always in your older brother’s business at that time, you’d developed a liking for your brother’s best friend, too. You liked the way he’d ruffle your hair whenever he came over to your house, the way he remembered strawberry milk was your favorite, and the way he’d wave at you in the school hallways, effectively making you cooler than all of your friends for knowing someone who was in the year above. At the time, you hadn’t known if what you felt for him could be described as a crush - all you knew was that for the rest of high school, you missed him.

When you found out that he had not only come back to South Korea to study, but that he was attending the university of your dreams, you couldn't have been more excited. But you chalked it up to the relief of knowing someone in an otherwise unfamiliar place.

Jihoon had been even more welcoming than you’d expected. He had come to get you at the airport with a big, colorful Welcome Y/N banner, helped you move into your dorm and treated you to a meal the night you arrived in town. Over the following weeks, he’d introduced you to his friends, showed you around campus, and kept inviting you out “so you would know where the good spots were.”

Thanks to him, settling in had been a much less stressful and emotionally exhausting process than you’d expected. But no matter how grateful you were, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was going to these lengths to welcome you.

Somewhere in the town center, there was a square that was extremely popular among skaters for a reason beyond your understanding. But at almost any time of the day and night, you could find people practicing their skating there. You’d just left a bar nearby with Minjeong, Jihoon and his friends, and to an intoxicated you, skating, something you had never attempted before, seemed like the thing to try out right then and there. You ran up to the first skater you found and asked him if he could show you how to ride.

Minjeong had run after you, finding a skater of her own while Jihoon’s friends either watched or talked about something else amongst themselves. Of course, the inevitable happened, and as soon as the skater let you try skating on your own, you’d fallen on your hands and knees. In a flash, Jihoon had been by your side, frantically asking if you were okay and making you show him your palms. They were only grazed, and one of your knees was bleeding very faintly, but Jihoon acted like you’d just broken something. He got you to get on his back so he could carry you to the nearest pharmacy, leaving his friends and Minjeong to wonder what the hell was going on. You tried telling him you were okay and could walk on your own just fine, but he wouldn’t listen.

He’d sat you on the curb in front of the all-night pharmacy and asked you to wait as he got disinfectant and bandages. You watched his face closely as he rubbed medical alcohol on your wounds. A crease had plagued his eyebrows ever since you fell, and he would not stop mumbling something about you needing to be more careful and you’re lucky you didn’t get hurt badly.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until one of your tears fell on Jihoon’s hand, hot against his skin, and he looked up at you with worry, any of his previous frustration with you wiped from his expression.

“Y/N? Why are you crying?” he’d asked, voice soft, as if trying not to scare you.

You sniffled. “Why are you so nice to me?”

His eyes softened and a small smile grew on his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his smile, and the more you cried, the sadder you felt. Inexplicably, your tears just fell and fell and fell. Under the bright white lights of the pharmacy, in the cold of a particularly chilly September night, Jihoon wrapped an arm around you and let you cry on his shoulder. He didn’t ask any further questions, just waited for you to calm down as he rubbed a hand up and down your back and whispered in your ear that it was okay.

When you thought back on it now, you knew that it had just been the alcohol making you unreasonably emotional - you weren’t actually sad about Jihoon looking after you, if anything, it made you happy. But once you’d started crying, you couldn’t stop.

“I’m just looking out for you,” he’d said once your sniffling had somewhat lessened. You’d leaned back to look at him.

“But why?” you’d whined.

Your frown had deepened as his smile had widened. “Because we’re friends.”

“Is that it?”

“Well, Junkyu also asked me to look after you,” he admitted sheepishly.

You gasped in affront. “He what?!”

“Y/N-”

“So he’s been forcing you to do all of this?” you asked, voice breaking at the end. Your anger had lasted two seconds - you’d gone back to being sad at the thought of Jihoon only being nice to you because your stupid big brother had asked him to.

“No, no, it’s not like that, listen to me-”

“I can’t believe the two of you! I’m not a child-”

“Nobody said you were-”

“So you don’t actually even care-”

“I do!” Jihoon had exclaimed, louder than you’d expected, and it shut you up. “I do,” he repeated, voice softer. His hands were still on your upper arms, and he leaned in closer. “You’re his little sister. Of course he was worried about you leaving home. He just asked me to make sure you don’t get into too much trouble,” he explained, lightly tapping the tip of your nose with his finger.

He sighed, smiling as he watched you try to keep an upset expression on your face. He took the bandages out of the pack he’d just bought and stuck them with caution on your wounds. “But I wouldn’t be doing all of this if I didn’t care, Y/N.” When your eyes met again, you hadn’t known what to make of the look in his. “I missed you, you know.”

Just like that, the ducts behind your eyes filled up again, and large, hot tears streamed down your face as you rested your forehead against Jihoon’s shoulders again. He chuckled at your dramatics but placed a reassuring hand against your hair. “I missed you, too,” you replied between broken sobs.

He’d texted his friends to take Minjeong with them and go on without the two of you, then carried you back to his apartment, which was thankfully only a five-minute walk away.

Ever since that night, you and Jihoon had been inseparable. He continued checking on you consistently, bringing you food and coffee without you even asking and, of course, getting you home safe from nights out.

You were thankful to have a friend like him.

“Pancakes?!” your flatmate exclaimed as soon as she walked through the door, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, Minjeong,” you and Jihoon greeted in unison.

She was wearing her clothes from last night and her hair was a mess, but she had a bright expression on her face (despite the faint mascara stains underneath her eyes). You narrowed your eyes at her but she made a beeline for the food, completely ignoring you.

“Hot,” she mumbled as she held a pancake between her fingers, but threw a piece in her mouth anyway. “You’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like him, Y/N,” she said around her food.

“Isn’t she?” Jihoon replied before you could say anything.

You rolled your eyes at the pair in front of you and poured a cup of coffee for Minjeong. She referred to Jihoon as your boyfriend so often that you didn’t bother to correct her anymore. “Not my boyfriend. And even so, he’s more like a bodyguard than anything.”

“Being a bodyguard is just one of the many duties of being a boyfriend,” Minjeong declared, easily ignoring you. “Don’t you agree, Jihoon?”

He nodded, a serious look on his face. “Absolutely. I take what I do very seriously.” When his eyes found yours, he shot you a wink. Your frown deepened.

“Anyway, care to share why you’re coming home so late?”

A blush creeped on Minjeong’s cheeks. “Well, Yoshi’s place is quite a ways from here…” she murmured, looking down at her half-eaten pancake.

“Called it!” you yelled, just as Jihoon let out a loud “no” of shock and defeat.

“Next takeaway is on you,” you told Jihoon with a proud smile. In a mature response, he stuck his tongue out at you.

Minjeong frowned at both of you. “You guys bet on this?” she asked, vexed. Jihoon exchanged a look, glanced back at her, and shrugged. “Not cool. I didn’t even know something would happen with him. How did you guess?”

You smiled. “You always go for the cute ones.”

She hummed in agreement, her expression almost a pained one. “He’s just the cutest little thing ever, I couldn’t help myself.” She took a sip of her coffee, cringing at the bitter taste before getting up to fetch sugar and milk.

You sighed at your friend. “You’re gonna break that poor boy’s heart.” You knew Minjeong wasn’t to blame for the boys that got attached to her when she made it clear she wasn’t looking for a relationship - but if it happened to Yoshi, you’d feel guilty. You’d met him in a tutorial for one of your Digital Media courses and he seemed like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’d invited you to do pres at his place, and you’d dragged Minjeong and Jihoon along, so they’d met through you. In a way, if Yoshi fell for Minjeong and got hurt, it’d be your fault.

“I told him I didn’t want anything serious,” she said, pouring as much milk as there was coffee in her mug.

“He doesn’t seem like the type to do casual stuff,” Jihoon chimed in as he placed the last pancake on top of the stack. But it was one pancake too many, and the whole stack fell over. Jihoon wasn’t rattled - he placed a few on his plate then rebuilt the stack.

Minjeong ate her last bite of pancake and got up from the stool. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“We? This is your problem, babe,” you said.

Minjeong smiled at you, eyes crinkling as she pressed a wet kiss to your cheek. You were sure there was some pancake left on her lips. “You’re such a good friend, Y/N,” she said, making you laugh. Of course you’d help Minjeong if she needed - but you were starting to feel bad for all the hearts she kept breaking. “I’m going back to bed,” she announced. Then, she put her hand next to her mouth as if telling you a secret, but spoke loud enough for Jihoon to hear anyway: “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, is all I’ll say.”

Jihoon choked on his food and you let out a groan of disgust, but you both burst into laughter anyway. “I want details later!” you called out.

“You won’t be disappointed,” she said between giggles as she closed her bedroom door behind her.

Just then, your phone buzzed with an incoming video call, Junkyu’s face taking up your screen. “Hey, ugly face,” you greeted, propping your phone up against the milk bottle.

“Hey, stink.”

“Hey, Kyu!” Jihoon called out and took a seat close next to you - you knew he was just trying to squeeze into frame, but the sudden proximity still made your breath catch in your throat for a second.

Your brother’s eyes narrowed. “What are the two of you doing together on a Sunday morning?”

You looked at Jihoon, then back at your screen. “Is there something wrong with Sunday mornings?”

“Not inherently, no…” your brother conceded. “But still.”

You rolled your eyes at him and his meaningless suspiciousness. “We just went to a party together last night and he crashed here afterwards.”

“She was so wasted I had to bring her home. And I made pancakes this morning.”

“Y/N, if you don’t marry this guy, I will,” Junkyu said with all the seriousness in the world, and Jihoon made a kissy face at him.

“What’s up with everyone today?” you sighed. “I’m going to shower. You two have fun.” You knew your brother probably didn’t have much to tell you anyway - he liked calling you for no other reason than to bother you.

“Oh, we will,” Jihoon said with a suggestive tone, and you made a vomiting noise before disappearing into the bathroom.

“When I told you to look after her, I just meant to make sure she doesn’t drink too much or get involved with weirdos. I didn’t mean to make her pancakes on Sunday mornings,” Junkyu teased, a knowing smile on his face.

Jihoon looked down at his place, a small smile growing on his lips as well. “I know, but I like doing those things for her.”

Junkyu let out an odd noise, half out of disgust and half out of annoyance. “I can’t believe you. Just ask her out, already.”

“So you don’t like me at her place on a Sunday morning, but you want me to ask her out?”

Junkyu rolled his eyes (Jihoon thought this was a family trait, at this point). “I’m trying to help you out here, buddy. I know she’s my little sister, but you’re also my best friend,” he started, ignoring Jihoon’s aww, “and I don’t know how much longer I can stand you being in love with her but not making a move.” He paused to sigh. “I know you’re a good guy, so you have my approval, or whatever.”

Jihoon smiled somewhat sadly, picking at his food with his fork. “I appreciate it, Kyu, but I really don’t think she feels the same way.”

“How do you know that? Have you asked her?” Junkyu asked, not even trying to hide his impatience.

“No, but-”

“Do I need to do it for you? Do you want to hide behind my back while I tell my little sister, hey, my friend here has something he wants to tell you? Hey, my friend thinks you’re pretty, do you want to talk to him? Are you a big baby who can’t do anything, Park Jihoon?”

“No, I just-”

“You know, if this were a k-drama and you were the main lead, everybody would get Second Lead Syndrome. Me included. You suck.”

“Supportive as ever, Kyu,” Jihoon said, sighing.

“If you don’t ask her, you’re a bitch. I’m hanging up now,” Junkyu said before Jihoon could get another word in. He just shook his head, chuckling as he dug into his pancakes again.

The two of them had had this conversation about a thousand times, and they always came to the same conclusion: Junkyu thought Jihoon should confess his feelings to you, and Jihoon dismissed the idea, knowing he’d never have the guts to do it. To him, making jokes about being your boyfriend and relentlessly flirting with you was sign enough of his affection for you - you just needed to figure out that he wasn’t actually kidding at all. He was already doing half of the work for you, really.

An hour later, the two of you were sitting on the fifth floor of the library, where nobody ever dared to venture because of its dark corners and maze-like rows of bookshelves. It creeped Jihoon out, but it was your favorite place to study, so on days he couldn’t convince you to go to a nicer spot, he sucked it up and followed you to the table you liked by a window that overlooked the park next to the campus. The window let some light in, but to get there, you had to go through dim hallways that looked like they hadn’t seen a human soul in years. Jihoon didn’t know how you’d found out about it in the first place. It felt like something a fourth-year would keep as a secret, not something a first-year would have discovered in her first months of attending uni.

As he observed your sleeping figure, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed. You’d gotten about twenty minutes of work done before resting your head atop your crossed arms, claiming you would just take a “power nap.” He couldn’t believe you’d emotionally manipulated him (pouted up at him and gave him puppy eyes - with that look on your face, Jihoon would agree to murdering someone for you) into going to this creepy part of the library only to sleep almost immediately after getting there.

He bent down onto his arms, mirroring your position, and let himself have this moment. Even though he saw you all the time, it wasn’t often that he could shamelessly stare at you and get away with it.

He watched as your shoulders rose and fell to the consistent rhythm of your breathing, as the sunlight pouring in from the window made your eyelashes cast shadows against your cheeks. You looked so peaceful that any trace of his irritation towards you vanished. It wasn’t like he could ever really be mad at you.

Jihoon loved how little you had changed in the years you’d been apart. Of course, you’d grown into your features and didn’t quite look like the thirteen-year-old version of you he’d known, but still, you had the same face and same habits he’d fallen in love with in the first place.

He still remembered the way his heart had swelled when he’d found your face amongst the crowd at the airport, how his whole body had buzzed with excitement at the idea of finally seeing you again after all these years. When you’d received your admission email from your university, the first thing Junkyu had told Jihoon was that he’d better look after you. It wasn’t like he didn’t think you couldn’t handle yourself, but it reassured him, knowing someone he trusted so much would be there to help you adjust to university life, since he couldn’t do it himself.

Jihoon had taken this seriously. Junkyu hadn’t given him any sort of instructions - the picking you up at the airport, introducing you to his friends, making sure you were well-fed and well-caffeinated, that was all him. At first, he tried convincing himself that he was doing this in an old friend, big brother fashion - he knew how close you and Junkyu were, so he fancied himself a sort of Junkyu 2.0 for you to rely on.

It had been when he saw your red, puffy eyes, trembling lips and tear-stained cheeks that he realized his old feelings had resurfaced. After all, don’t they say you never really forget your first love?

Truth be told, that whole night had been a dead giveaway. From the moment you met up at the bar to his little nurse moment in front of the pharmacy, his heart had not stopped racing. He kept checking on you, making sure you were having fun and handling your alcohol, and stuck by your side the whole time, like a bee to a flower.

He remembered standing arms crossed over his chest and observing you with narrowed eyes as you tried out skating. He was telling himself he was just watching in case you got hurt, but he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach twisted with a hot, unpleasant emotion as the skater guided you, hands on your waist. He didn’t like that you held that stranger by his shoulders, relying on him and not Jihoon for support, or that you laughed together like you’d been friends for years. Jihoon was your long-time friend, not this random long-haired, baggy-shirted, vans-wearing loser skater that probably had a name like Mark or something.

When you’d fallen from that skateboard, his heart had dropped in his stomach. He’d been sick with worry that you’d gotten badly hurt, and even upon seeing your barely-grazed palms and knees, he hadn’t been reassured.

Seeing you cry had made him panic like crazy. He tried his best to comfort you, but had no idea whether he was doing a good job. For days after that night, he’d replayed the conversation the two of you had under the lights of the pharmacy.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just looking out for you.”

“But why?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Is that it?”

Jihoon hadn’t known whether you meant, is that the only reason, or, are we only friends? But he’d thought the second question was wishful thinking on his part. So he told you about the promise he’d made to Junkyu, and that had somehow made you even more upset. Even though he hadn’t said it outright, he’d thought he had made it clear that he wasn’t only doing this because Junkyu had told him to - he also wanted to be there for you. He did care, more than he wanted to admit.

Over time, his feelings for you had grown far bigger than simple teenage nostalgia - he loved your present self impossibly more than fourteen-year-old Jihoon had loved thirteen-year-old you. He thought he made it obvious - he always made sure to compliment you, remembered your coffee order and favorite dishes from your favorite restaurants, rushed to your side whenever you needed him, and did everything he could think of to support you. Sure, he relentlessly teased you as well, but that was just Jihoon.

If you noticed him, you didn’t show it. He wasn’t sure whether you genuinely didn’t know he wanted you as more than a friend or were playing dumb, but he knew you saw him as something like a second older brother. But Jihoon had come to terms with that - he’d rather be in your life as a friend than not at all.

This was why he was grateful for moments like these, when he could just look at you without you knowing.

After five minutes, Jihoon quietly got up and bravely made his way through the dark hallways and back outside to get you a drink - in case you woke up grumpy from your nap, he knew a matcha latte would appease you. He almost got lost on his way back, but when he found your table again, you were still sleeping. He couldn’t help himself - before rousing you, he snapped a quick picture of your sleeping face, making sure to get the drool pooling at the corner of your lips in frame. The photo went into his Y/N folder, full of pictures and videos he’d both secretly and not-so-secretly taken of you, which, no, wasn’t creepy at all, thank you very much.

When he pressed one drink to your cheek and the other to your forehead, you woke up with a gasp, then immediately winced at the pain in the side of your neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position.

“I wasn’t sure whether you’d want a hot one or an iced one, so I just got both.”

“Ooh, iced, please,” you said. “Thanks, Hoonie.” But before you could grab the drink, he snatched it away.

“No drinking until you get at least one thing done,” he said, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

You frowned. “But the ice will melt and it’ll taste all watery.”

Jihoon didn’t want to give in so easily.

“Hm?” you hummed, tilting your head at him.

Jihoon gave in, handing you your drink with a tut. Seeing your excited grin and hearing your sigh of contentment after taking a sip made it worth it.

About two (surprisingly productive) hours later, your stomach started demanding nourishment, and who were you to deny it? Your hangover was strong that day, and even the pancakes and coffee hadn’t completely rid your mouth of its sour taste. You needed something salty and greasy, so you pitched going to the fried chicken place a few blocks down to Jihoon, who agreed immediately.

On the way there, you tried to recollect some moments from the party yesterday, but quickly realized that not much was coming to mind. Pre-drinks at Yoshi’s were clear in your head, and so was walking to the other party - but the better part of your memories after that were fuzzy or non-existent.

“Hoonie?” you suddenly asked.

“Hm?”

“Did I do anything embarrassing last night?”

Jihoon chuckled. “Not more than usual.”

You groaned and pushed his shoulder, making him laugh even more. “I mean, you just kinda danced like crazy and talked to absolutely anyone. At some point you were gone for like twenty-five minutes, and I found you in the bathroom taking selfies with girls I’d never seen before in my life.”

You pulled out your phone and checked your gallery - indeed, there were about fifty pictures of you and some random girls. “Who are they?” you asked, more to yourself than to Jihoon, in disbelief at how comfortable last-night-you looked with these strangers. “They seem nice enough, I guess.” You laughed with Jihoon before sighing. “Well, that’s not too bad. I’ve done worse things.”

Jihoon made a face as if to say, Yeah, I know, and you rolled your eyes at him. You returned your gaze to the path in front of you, but if you’d kept on looking at Jihoon, you’d have noticed the smirk growing on his lips as a joke formed in his head. After some time, with a shit-eating grin on his face, he broke the silence. “Oh, well, there was also that moment when you confessed your undying love for me, tears streaming down your face, begging on your knees, all the works. That was pretty embarrassing. But I get it.”

It was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help yourself from laughing as you slapped his shoulder. “You wish,” you said between giggles.

I do wish, he immediately thought, but kept it to himself. He laughed instead and could only hope his real thoughts weren’t so obvious.

Two things happened in the fried chicken shop restaurant.

Well, three, if you counted their promotion on their chicken rice cake coleslaw menu, which was your favorite and which Jihoon always chided you for ordering (“Anyone who likes coleslaw is not human”), but in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t so important.

First, your mom called. Now, this wasn’t anything huge in itself, but it was Jihoon’s behavior that got to you.

You had gotten maybe five words before he snatched the phone from you and lifted it to his ear. “Hi, Mrs Kim!”

You heard a faint but enthusiastic “Hi, Jihoon!” on the other side of the line. They made small talk for a bit, and you couldn’t believe your mom could have forgotten about her only daughter so quickly. You’d dived back into your fried chicken, pretending you didn’t care about whatever it was they were talking so energetically about, until you heard your name on the other end.

Your and Jihoon’s eyes met. A mischievous smile spread across his lips and your gaze hardened. “Yes, well, you know her, she’s a bit of a nuisance, but I’m keeping her out of trouble and all that. I saved her from joining a cult the other day,” he said, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh dear!” you heard your mother exclaim.

“You didn’t save me from anything, I knew what that woman was up to.”

You’d been waiting for Jihoon outside of the movie theater when an older woman approached you. She seemed friendly enough, and you thought she was just a lonely grandma in need of a nice discussion - which it was at first, until it veered towards religion. Next thing you knew, she was telling you stories about the upcoming end of the world and how we had to beg for salvation. You didn’t believe any of it, but you found it captivating, so you stood there listening to her and egging her on until Jihoon showed up and forced you out of there. You thought it’d have been funny if he’d listened along, but knowing Jihoon, a small part of him might have actually believed her and started freaking out.

“I didn’t know you and my mom were so chummy,” you said when the phone call was over. She hadn’t even asked to talk to you again.

“Your mom’s awesome. I can’t believe such a lovely woman gave birth to two gremlins like you and Junkyu. Are you sure you’re not adopted?”

It had seemed like nothing at the time, but when you played the scene over again in your mind that night as you lay in bed, the fact that Jihoon got along with your family filled your heart with an unexpected warmth. It was almost like he was part of the family himself - not in a third child way, but more in a if you brought him home to your family, he’d fit right in, a thought that had made you panic as soon as it’d appeared in your mind. Because why were you thinking of bringing Jihoon home? Why did it make you so happy, knowing he’d be welcomed with open arms?

You shook your head against your pillow, hoping it’d make those thoughts vanish. You reassured yourself by telling yourself that you’d be just as happy bringing a friend like Minjeong home, and that you were sure she’d get along just fine with your brothers and parents.

The other sign had been much more straightforward. You weren’t afraid to eat messily in front of Jihoon, so some honey barbecue sauce had spread over the corner of your lips as you wolfed down one of the wings. As soon as Jihoon started to lean in across the table, you knew you were in trouble.

Not only did he wipe the sauce off your lips with his thumb, but he licked it off of his finger, never breaking eye contact throughout the whole ordeal. Your whole body tensed and you swear you stopped breathing for a second.

It only really lasted maybe five seconds, but felt like hours to you. You glared at him for a bit before diving back into your chicken, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. But Jihoon and his stupid, proud smirk probably knew what he’d done to you. As if that wasn’t enough already, he even had the audacity to whisper cute under his breath. Your eyes snapped back up to his face, but he just smiled and nodded towards your food, telling you to keep eating.

Over the next week, the word cute refused to leave your mind. You kept replaying that scene over and over - the feeling of Jihoon’s thumb on your lips, the sight of his own lips around his thumb, his gaze through it all. It wasn’t the first time such thoughts of Jihoon plagued you - once, he’d guided you through a crowded club with a hand on your lower back and the way the warmth of his hand against you had made you feel prompted you to ignore him for the rest of the night. Another time, he’d kissed you on the forehead after dropping you off at your apartment and you hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes for the following week.

You took the small but meaningful events of that day as your second sign of your new odd feelings directed towards your best friend, feelings that you didn’t know how to name just yet.

Crazy rich Yoon Jaehyuk was having a pool party at his house, and basically everyone was invited. If you knew about the party, you could go - all Jaehyuk had to do was to tell maybe ten people and let them spread the word. As his partner for an English Linguistics class you had together that semester, you were one of those privileged people who’d known firsthand about the event and had made sure to tell everyone you knew to come. You shouldn’t have been so surprised to find what must’ve already been a hundred people on the front lawn, inside the house and around the pool when you showed up with Jihoon and the rest of your friends there.

Coincidentally, this was when the third sign occurred. Third time’s a charm, as they say, and the events of that night and those following cemented your growing hunch that something really was up.

Pre-drinks at yours and Minjeong’s place had already taken quite a toll on you. Jaehyuk lived at the edge of town, quite a ways from your flat, but the vodka cranberry you’d snuck in on the bus prevented you from sobering up during the long ride. When your group arrived at the party, both you and Minjeong were ready to dance. But before you could rush to wherever the dancefloor was, Jihoon caught you by the wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes went from his fingers around your wrist to his smiling face, a surprised look on your own.

“We’re gonna head directly to the pool. Don’t drink too much, okay?”

Your lips blossomed with a smile. Typical Jihoon. “Okay.”

The alcohol probably had something to do with it, but a surge of affection for your friend hit you and you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before taking Minjeong’s hand in yours and making a beeline in the direction of the music.

I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas was calling your name and you didn’t think to turn around to look at Jihoon, so you missed the way he watched your figure retreating into the mass of drunk students as he tried to commit the warmth of your lips against his cheek to memory.

You and Minjeong made your way to the center of the crowd, shrieking with drunken excitement when you found a group of girls from one of your shared classes there and exchanging very brief pleasantries before falling into the rhythm of one of your all-time favorite party songs. In your humble opinion, no one understood partying like The Black Eyed Peas did.

You only leave the dancefloor on one occasion, which is to take a round of vodka shots with your new best friends for the night - Jihoon had said not to drink too much, not not at all. One of the girls (Yunjin, you thought, but she showed up to class so seldom you weren’t sure) had a trick of pouring a lick of strawberry syrup before the alcohol, so that you wouldn’t be hit with the nail polish remover aftertaste of vodka. You were delighted to find it worked (almost) like magic.

It’s about an hour later when you and Minjeong reach the pool, not quite sober but more so than when you’d arrived at the party. For a pool party, there were definitely less people there than inside the house, maybe due to the fact that it was the end of February and most people didn’t want to risk getting hypothermia from the temperature difference between the heated pool and the cold outside.

The relatively small number of people makes it easy to spot Jihoon, in nothing but his swimming trunks and a towel around his shoulders, sitting on a longchair a dozen or so meters away from you. Something about half-naked Jihoon, you’re not sure what, makes you want to walk over to him and do… you’re not sure what, but Minjeong frantically slapping your arm and whispering your name stops you from doing whatever it was you wanted to do.

“Y/N! Y/N! Yoshi is right there,” she whisper-yelled. Indeed, Yoshi was in the pool, not far from where you stood, playing with his friends you recognized from pre-drinks at his place the other day. Minjeong’s face was redder than you’d ever seen it, and you recalled a conversation you’d had earlier that day.

“Will Yoshi be there?” Minjeong had asked, trying to sound innocent.

You’d looked at your flatmate with an incredulous look on your face. “Yes, he’ll be there, you slut. I thought you never went for a second time?”

She’d shrugged, an unusually shy smile playing on her lips as she looked down at her feet. “I don’t know, we’ll see.”

This was very unlike Minjeong - in your six months of knowing each other, it was the first time you ever saw her even consider getting with someone a second time. You didn’t know what sort of spell this Yoshi guy had cast on your friend, but it must’ve been very effective.

“Go talk to him,” you simply said.

“What?! No way, I can’t- Oh my God, he’s looking at us,” she said, words rushing out of her mouth, “he’s looking right at us, isn’t he?”

You just laughed at your friend and waved at Yoshi who was already waddling towards your edge of the pool. “Hey, Yoshi!” you called excitedly. At the sound of your voice, Jihoon’s head snapped towards you. He wasted no time in yelling your name, motioning for you to come over, so you gestured back that you’d be there in a minute.

“Hey, Y/N!” Yoshi called back with the same tone. “Hey, Minjeong,” he added, tone somewhat quiet, but the blush that grew on his cheeks told you you weren’t the one he was most happy to see.

“Hey, Yoshi,” she said so quietly, you weren’t sure the boy could even hear her.

“Nice to see you guys here,” he said, talking to you but glancing nervously at Minjeong.

“You too!” you replied, and before he could add anything, you placed a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about. See you later!”

You grinned innocently at Minjeong as she called your name, eyes wide in panic. She was a big girl, and Yoshi was clearly into her - she could handle herself. Jihoon eyed you amusedly as you made your way towards him.

“Are you setting them up?” he asked when you were within earshot of him.

“I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t at least try. I’ve never seen Minjeong blush over a guy, so this must be serious.”

A few of Jihoon’s friends were hanging out next to him, people that you knew from the many parties you attended together but that you rarely saw outside of drinking contexts. You waved at them before sitting on the deckchair next to Jihoon’s. He pivoted in his seat to face you, seemingly not minding that he’d just turned his back to his friends, then scooched his chair closer to yours so that your knees touched. You rested your palms next to your thighs and kept your gaze down. Something about Jihoon kept you from meeting his eyes, tonight. Maybe it was the half-nakedness.

Jihoon eyed you for a little bit, wondering what was making you so unusually quiet, before looking behind his shoulder to check whether Minjeong had been able to make progress on her own.

“Looks like it’s going well,” he assessed.

You followed his gaze to find Minjeong sitting at the edge of the pool and kicking her legs in the water while Yoshi stood next to her, water up to his belly button. You smiled as they giggled and splashed each other - it was going well, indeed.

“Have you been in the pool yet?” you asked, shifting your gaze to the party-goers playing in the water. The echoes of people talking and water splashing were quite loud, but Jihoon was so close that you didn’t need to raise your voice too much.

“No, I just took my shirt off for the hell of it.”

You had meant to bring your eyes up to his face, you really had - but somewhere on the way, they stopped on his abs, and got stuck there. It was probably a full five seconds before you could look away from the well-defined muscles on his stomach and finally meet his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything - the smirk playing on his lips and the slight surprise in the raise of his brows were enough to tell you he had not missed your stare.

You looked back to the pool, eyebrows slightly creased in shame at having been so obvious. Thankfully, you had brought a drink with you and took a swig of it there. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

You were trying to ignore the way Jihoon’s eyes burned into the side of your face, the way they followed your every move, but with each passing second, you felt more conscious of them. Not unlike one would try to escape a wasp, you thought that going into the pool might tear Jihoon’s eyes away from you at least for a little bit. It’s not that his gaze made you uncomfortable, like that of a random old man in the street would, but it definitely made you feel… things. Things that you didn’t necessarily want to dive into.

The problem was that, to go into the pool, you’d need to get into your swimsuit. You’d thought ahead and had come already clad into your bikini underneath your clothes, a black, strapless tube dress that was easy to take off so you could jump into the pool at any time. But getting rid of that dress right in front of Jihoon and his watchful eyes was more nerve-wracking than you’d imagined.

You downed the rest of your cup for some liquid courage and shot up from your seat, releasing a deep breath as you did so. You thought it was better to just get it over with than make it last any longer than it needed to. Jihoon’s eyes glinted with amusement as they followed your every move.

“Let’s go back in.”

Your plan had been to lift your dress off of your body and head straight to the pool, but Jihoon’s gaze made you freeze in place after stripping. You couldn’t quite describe it as lustful, or as hungry, because there was a hint of surprise there that softened it. It was like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and loving it at the same time, if the slowly growing smirk on his lips was anything to go by. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a fire that made your knees turn to jelly and that rendered you close to breathless.

You let his curious eyes travel your body for a few seconds before clearing your throat. “Do you want a picture or something?” you asked ironically, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt.

His smirk only widened. “No need. The real thing is so much better.”

You tried not to cower under his shameless gaze, instead stood up straighter and stared right back at him. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

“I know,” he replied, but his eyes stayed trained on your body. You watched as they slowly made their way up your legs, took in your stomach and waist, then paused on your chest, which was quickly falling and rising with your shallow breathing. It was only when you scoffed and crossed your arms that he looked at your face.

Still that lopsided smirk on his lips, he stood up and languidly made his way towards you. He came so close that you had to slightly crane your neck to meet his gaze.

Your heart raced as he let a few seconds of silence stretch between the two of you, keeping his eyes locked in yours. “Nice eyes,” he murmured after a pause, the sudden depth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

After six months of seeing him almost every day, one would think Jihoon’s flirty personality would not have such an effect on you anymore. And most of the time, it didn’t - even back in the day, he was already fond of teasing you, so usually, him telling you how pretty you looked, patting your head or him tucking stray strands of hairs behind your ear went somewhat unnoticed by you. Or at least, it was easier not to freak out over “small” things like these.

But this was one of the times when you thought he was really pushing it, and you lost the ability to even eye-roll, which was your usual defense against his flirting attacks. You hated to admit, but you just couldn’t pretend it didn’t have an effect on you. You hated it because you knew he was just flirting as a joke, not because he was actually interested or anything of the sort, and you felt stupid that it still did something to you - although you sometimes doubted whether he really was doing it just for fun. You wanted to think he was acting the way he was on purpose, to get a reaction out of you. It’d make you feel less of a fool.

Before you’d even had time to understand the meaning behind his words, he’d already walked away from you and to the pool. When your senses had come back and you spun around, he was already inside the water. He looked like a cute wet puppy with his hair sticking out all around his head, especially when he shook it and let droplets of water fall off his hair and splash around him, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man that had essentially called your tits nice just moments prior.

The raging butterflies in your stomach were your third sign.

You must’ve stared long, because after a while, your eyes met again, and a smile reappeared on his face. An actual smile, this time, not a smirk or anything of the sort. As if nothing had just happened - as if it was absolutely natural for your best friend to practically devour you with his eyes like that.

He waved you over and you noticed Minjeong and Yoshi were with him, seemingly waiting for you as well. When you reached the edge of the pool, someone entered the room with a platter of shots of God knows what, and you immediately reached out for one and downed it. Sambuca, you realized with relief as the sweet liquid burned its way down your throat. That way, if your body kept buzzing the way it had been around Jihoon, you could blame it on the alcohol and nothing else.

Minjeong and Yoshi were already back in their new little world, but Jihoon watched with an amused grin as you measured the temperature of the water with a foot, then, deeming it warm enough, made your way towards your friends. There, the water reached up to your shoulders, and the fact that it got up to just a little bit under Jihoon’s chest only marked your height difference further, which shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did.

“Didn’t I tell you not to drink too much before going into the water?” Jihoon asked, laughter clear in his voice.

“How about you let me drink as much as I want, and make sure I don’t drown?” you bit back, even though you knew it wasn’t much of a comeback. You had spoken in an irritated tone that, going by the way his smile softened, Jihoon found cute.

“Okay, I will,” he said, and the sweetness in his tone only served to further unnerve you.

If he noticed your annoyance, he didn’t say anything.

You let yourself be convinced to play a game of chicken fight against Minjeong and Yoshi, which (along with that shot of Sambuca) made your competitive streak kick in and allowed you to, at least momentarily, forget about your irritation towards your friend. The reason behind that irritation was something you didn’t even want to think about.

Somehow, you endured the prickling on your skin as Jihoon kept your thighs tightly pressed around his shoulders with two big hands. Even when he squeezed the flesh there or craned his neck to look up at you with those big, round eyes of his, you managed to not let the way your stomach flipped get to your head.

You weren’t sure how you won all three rounds of chicken fight, if it was thanks to Jihoon’s devotion to the gym, or yours to the free weekly Sunday morning pilates class your uni gym offers. It might’ve been down to the level of complicity you and Jihoon had built over the months that Yoshi and Minjeong hadn’t reached yet (if that can even be a factor in chicken fight success) - all you know, is that you do, and that even underwater, Jihoon’s hands burn as they snake their way around your waist, and press your body flush to his in a celebratory hug.

Some time later, you sit at the edge of the pool by yourself, having been deserted by the two lovebirds who not-so-sneakily snuck away under the pretext of getting some drinks, as well as by Jihoon who was called by some friends to join him back in the pool. You were at the level of tipsiness that made you want to self-introspectively sit on your own and people-watch for a little bit.

Until someone broke your peace.

“Hey, Y/N,” you heard a vaguely familiar voice say. Before you could respond, Kim Sunwoo was sitting next to you, a bit too close in your opinion for your level of acquaintance, clad in black swimming trunks that let the band of his Calvin Klein underwear peek through.

He wasn’t half bad-looking, you decided in that instant.

“Oh, hi, Sunwoo,” you replied, smiling as you unquestioningly accepted the drink he offered you and thanked him for it. You peered at the orange liquid and decided it was the right color for alcohol before taking a sip. It being orange vodka didn’t come as much of a surprise. “I didn’t know you knew my name,” you admitted.

You recognized Sunwoo’s face from the Introduction to Literary Theory lecture you’d had last semester, and had learned his name when the lecture had to be online due to the professor falling ill, and he was one of the few brave students who had turned his camera on. With a face like his, you understood where the confidence came from.

Then, one night out on the town with Minjeong and other friends, you’d run into him at the counter of a bar, and had exchanged a few (flirty, if you recalled correctly) words, but not your names, hence the slight confusion.

He chuckled and you watched as two deep dimples appeared on his cheeks. “I did my research before coming here. Sadly, no one knew what kind of drink you liked, so I went for something basic and prayed.”

“This is perfect,” you said, laughing.

“To be perfectly honest,” he starts after a slight pause, “I’ve seen you around campus, and we even saw each other at a bar once, didn’t we?” he asks, and grins when you nod. “I felt stupid for never asking for your name, or your number. So when I saw you sitting here, I thought it must be fate that brought me to this party.”

You had barely registered his words, let alone formed any sort of response in your mind when Jihoon suddenly appeared in front of the two of you, placing a hand right next to your thigh on the pool edge. You hadn’t noticed him swimming your way.

“Hey, Sunwoo. I see you’ve met my girlfriend,” Jihoon blatantly lies as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The shock is apparent on Sunwoo’s face, and if it wasn’t for the sweet, convincing smile Jihoon was looking at you with, you might’ve let your surprise show more.

Sunwoo didn’t know Jihoon like you did, so you didn’t know whether he noticed the tightness in his grin, the challenge in his slightly raised eyebrows, or the general way he was holding himself that screamed Leave. But he must’ve noticed something, because it only took him a few seconds to start nodding slowly and rise from his seat.

For some reason, you stayed quiet, letting the word girlfriend and the way it had rolled off Jihoon’s tongue so easily repeat over and over again in your head. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he had said it so convincingly that you almost questioned whether you actually were Jihoon’s girlfriend. Before you could think any more about it, however, Sunwoo broke the increasingly tense silence.

“My bad, man, I didn’t know she was taken. I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he said with a smile, and that was that.

You watched his retreating figure for a bit, eyebrows creased in confusion, before snapping your head towards Jihoon. Head tilted, he was fixing you with a questioning look, as if to ask, What are you up to?, when he was the one that had just acted strangely.

“What was that all about?” you asked.

Jihoon shrugged. “I chased him away for you. I’ve only heard bad stuff about that guy, like he sleeps with a new girl every weekend and doesn’t treat them right.”

You thought for a second, bottom lip slightly jutting out in concentration. “Well, couldn’t you have told me about his reputation then let me make the decision for myself?”

“I-” Jihoon started but stopped himself. He seemed to mull over your words for a bit, then sighed. “You’re right, I guess I could have, but you’ve been drinking, who knows if you would’ve made the right decision?”

This made you furrow your brows. “So what if I did? Getting drunk and going home with a rando is not unheard of, I would’ve been fine. Just maybe ashamed tomorrow morning.”

A flash of annoyance swept across Jihoon’s features, and your curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued. The two of you had had your fair share of aimless arguments over the months, but he’d never actually gotten cross with you. For some reason, you were suddenly itching to know what angry Jihoon was like.

“I wouldn’t be fine with it, though. I’d hate knowing that I let you go home with a prick like that.”

This wasn’t the first time Jihoon had fended off guys for you during a night out, but to his credit, they weren’t ever guys you wanted to talk to. And, well, admittedly, after learning what he was like, maybe you didn’t want to talk to Sunwoo either, but Jihoon’s protectiveness tonight was bothering you more than it ever had.

You let a silence stretch between the two of you before speaking again. “You- you can’t just do that, you know,” you declared, not meeting his eyes.

“Do what?”

“Act like you just did. Pretending to be my boyfriend just to get a guy away from me.” Jihoon was just staring at you silently, so you felt compelled to add, “You’re not actually my boyfriend, you know.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because his jaw locked and a coldness you had never seen before appeared in his eyes.

“Aren’t I basically?”

That caught you off guard. Where was this coming from? Jihoon had never entertained the idea of being your boyfriend, ever, so why was he suddenly acting like he was? Like he had always been?

And yet, you found yourself toying with the idea of dating Jihoon once more. The one question that pervaded your thoughts was, would things be so different? You’d never had a boyfriend, so you weren’t sure what they did, but you thought it wouldn’t be too far off from how Jihoon treated you now. Keep you safe, bring you food, buy you random keychains or pencils that reminded him of you, text you throughout the day, compliment you. The only difference would be…

Your eyes drifted down to his lips, and you swore you heard a shaky intake of breath coming from the man right in front of you.

The thought had barely crossed your mind that panic rose in your chest. You could not be thinking about kissing Jihoon. You couldn’t think about him being your boyfriend, either. You weren’t sure why, but your sudden heart palpitations at the mere idea told you that you just couldn’t.

“No, you’re not.” You had wanted to speak firmly, but you feared your voice had come out shakier than intended.

To your surprise, Jihoon scoffed. “So if I went off and started dating someone else, it wouldn’t bother you?” he asked in a disbelieving, almost mocking tone.

“No, it wouldn’t,” you answered, and as soon as the words were out, you knew they were a lie. You scrambled to your feet, suddenly wanting to be away from this conversation and the way it made you feel. “I’ll, um, I’ll head back inside.”

You ignored his call of your name and picked up your dress, hastily sliding it back on as you made your way back towards the living room where most of the action was. You quickly found that it was too loud, too hot, too packed in there. You headed back outside through another door that led to a part of the backyard far from the pool, where people sat in small groups around a big fire, either nursing a drink or passing round a joint, the smell of weed heavy in the air. At least it was quiet here.

You walked around some before spotting Jaehyuk, the man of the house himself, sitting on his lonesome on a swing bench in a dark corner of the garden, looking down despondently into a red solo cup. A couple hours into the party, this was the first time you saw him, you realized. It made you wonder how long he’d been sitting out here on his own.

“Hey, Jaehyuk,” you greeted, catching him by surprise. You took a seat next to him, sliding your hands underneath your thighs to keep them warm.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Nice that you came.” He mustered a smile for you before taking a swig from his cup and cringing at the taste of what must’ve been alcohol.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” you asked softly. You were used to cheery, smiley Jaehyuk, and even though you weren’t very close, you couldn’t help but be saddened by seeing your friend in such a state.

Jaehyuk sighed deeply. “The girl I planned this party for isn’t here.”

“The girl you… planned… this party for?” you echoed, and he nodded. “You mean this,” you said, gesturing to the house and backyard full to the brim with people, “is all for one girl?”

He sighed and nodded again, taking another sip from his cup. He tutted at the drink, or maybe at himself for drinking it when he knew how awful it tasted. “I wanted an excuse to see her outside of class.” He chuckled. “I realize now that I might have gone slightly overboard.”

“Just a bit,” you laughed along, watching as a group of stoners cheered at their friend who had found marshmallows and sticks God-knows-where. “It’s not even midnight yet, she might still be coming.”

Jaehyuk shrugged. “I’ve stopped hoping. I think I just need to get into the party and forget about it for tonight.”

You smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

“What about you, what made you escape out here? The music not to your liking?”

“Are you kidding? This is the Danish alternative pop playlist of my dreams,” you said, earning a chuckle from him. “No, I just…” You realized you didn’t even know how to talk about this. What was making you so upset?

“I got into a bit of a… squabble with my friend, if you will. He-”

“Oh, so it’s a he?” Jaehyuk cut in, a knowing smile on his face.

“No- I mean, yes, he is, but it’s not like that, it’s- it’s…”

“It’s?” he egged on.

“Ugh, fine, it might be like that,” you finally admitted, as much to Jaehyuk as to yourself. Your irritation made him laugh.

“It’s okay, it happens.”

“I didn’t think it would happen to me, though.”

“Why not?”

You sighed. “Just ‘cause… him and I, we’ve known each other for such a long time, it feels weird that things would start changing now.”

“How long have you known each other?”

“We met when we were thirteen and fourteen. Then he moved away and we only met again in September last semester.”

“Did you keep in touch?”

“Not so much. I just heard from him through my brother, they’re much closer.”

“So… what I’m hearing is, you’ve known each other a long time, but you’ve only really become friends since September, right?”

“Right,” you echoed dubitatively, wondering where Jaehyuk was going.

“Y/N, that’s just a bit over six months.”

“...So?”

“So, that’s not nearly as long as you make it out to be. It’s not like you’ve been best friends for years and things are suddenly changing. Six months… aren’t that short, I’ll give you that, but I think it’s a reasonable time for people to get closer as friends and then start developing feelings.”

“Feelings?” you immediately echoed, panic evident in your voice.

Jaehyuk let out something like a chuckle, looking at you like he was figuring out whether you were joking or not. “Is that not what this whole thing is about?”

You dropped your gaze down to your thighs, frowning. “Feelings just sound so serious…”

“They can be, but they don’t have to.” After a few seconds of silence, he noticed your upset expression and nudged your shoulder good-naturedly. “What’s worrying you so much?”

“It’s just confusing. I… It’s not like I’ve been totally indifferent towards him up ‘til now, but there’s something about him lately, especially tonight. It makes me actually wonder about… you know. Whether I want him as a friend or not.” You sighed. “And even if I am feeling… feelings, I don’t know how he sees me. I could still be a sort of little sister in his eyes, for all I know.”

“What makes you think that?”

A small smile grew on your lips as you blew air from your nose. “Junkyu - my older brother - tasked him with looking after me when he learned I was going to attend this university with him. So, while I go crazy trying to figure out why he acts the way he acts and why I feel the way I feel, he might just be keeping a promise to my brother.”

“But have you ever seen him as an older brother?”

“No,” you replied immediately. Your surety almost took you aback. “Jihoon is… Jihoon. He’s definitely not Junkyu.”

Jaehyuk smiled. “Then I don’t think he would see you as a little sister, either. The way you act with a sibling and with a friend, potentially someone you like, is very different. I don’t think there’d be room for question if he treated you as a younger sister, you’d just know. Most guys I know are very obvious when they like someone, me included, so if you’re thinking about this so much just because of the way he acts with you… well, you’re probably onto something.”

“You think?”

“I do.”

You and Jaehyuk stayed outside chatting for a few more minutes until you decided to go back inside for some warmth and a refill of your empty cups. In the kitchen, you ran into some of your classmates, so you joined in their animated discussion on which version of The Sims is better (Asahi offended everyone by saying the mobile app was the best) instead of going looking for Minjeong and Jihoon like you had intended to.

A few minutes later, as your phone buzzed with six consecutive texts from your roommate, you found out where both of them were.

minjeong girl do u know how many bedrooms there are in this goddamn house??!!!! yoshi and i are spending the night here xxx ask jaehyuk if he has a room for u or get home w jihoon whos that girl he’s talkin to in the kitchen btw??? love yaa xxxxxoooo text me if u need anything!! i’ll be busy but i’ll keep my phone on ;)

Usually, you’d have rolled your eyes at the exorbitant amount of x’s and the cheesy winky face, but something else had got your attention. Suddenly stepping away mentally from the conversation (which had turned into an interrogation on Asahi’s suspected addiction to mobile games), you looked around the crowded kitchen until your eyes settled on your culprit.

From where you were, you only had a view of his side profile, just as Minjeong had said, Jihoon was talking to a girl, red solo cup in his hand and stupidly attractive smile on his lips. She was leaning against the wall while he stood in front of her, both looking as relaxed as if they had known each other for years. What was up with all that eye contact? What was making them smile so hard?

You hadn’t realized how hard you were staring until Jaehyuk’s voice broke through your thoughts, asking if you were okay.

“You look like you want to kill someone,” Sumin joked, not knowing she was closer to the truth than she thought.

You tried to laugh it off, saying you were just deeply disturbed by Asahi’s predicament, but you couldn’t keep yourself from glancing back at Jihoon and the girl every thirty seconds. Another girl arrived, and Jihoon shifted to make room for her so that he was now directly facing you. Over the chatter of the kitchen and music booming from the speakers in the living room, you couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but it seemed like Girl #1 was introducing Jihoon to Girl #2, placing a palm on his bicep as she did so. You counted - that hand stayed there for four whole seconds, and when she finally took it off of him, your eyes drifted back to Jihoon’s face.

Jihoon, who was staring right at you. Jihoon, who raised his eyebrows at you as if to say, What about it? while yours were creased in - confusion, anger, you weren’t sure what, but an ugly feeling you weren’t accustomed to. Jihoon, who, you decided, had to know what he was doing, had to know how this was making you feel.

The only thing on your mind was getting out of here and taking Jihoon with you. Without thinking much, you fished your phone out of your sweater pocket, texted Jihoon Let’s go and said bye to your friends, lying that your friend had suddenly asked you to leave.

After a few minutes of waiting by yourself outside in the cold, crouching to maximize body warmth, you started to wonder if Jihoon had decided to not follow you. But when you felt a weight drop on your shoulders, you snapped your head up to find him smiling down at you.

“Where did you get this?” you asked, meaning the blanket he had given you.

“I stole it from the living room.”

“Jihoon,” you scolded.

“You know the guy right? Just give it back to him this week,” he said, lowering himself down to your level. Similarly to your eye contact in the kitchen, you were still frowning while he kept on smiling. “Not like you to want to leave before one a.m.. Is something the matter?” he asked, and you debated whether he was faking his innocence or not.

For about ten seconds, you tried to stay quiet, not wanting to betray your feelings to him. You glared ahead of you, watching your breath form wisps in the late February night air.

But then he called your name so softly, it undid all of your resolve. The sound of it made you sigh.

“Who was that you were talking to?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm? That was just Shuhua, she’s a Tawainese exchange student from one of my classes. Then she introduced me to her friend Yuqi.”

You nodded slowly, still not meeting Jihoon’s gaze. “I didn’t know there was a Taiwainese exchange student in one of your classes.”

“Y/N?” The unexpected seriousness with which he had called your name forced you to look at him.

“Hm.”

“I have something to tell you.” He must’ve noticed your sudden inability to speak, so he continued, lowering his head to be at eye-level with you. “There’s a Taiwainese exchange student in one of my classes.”

A smile broke through his serious facade and you had to look away to hide your own growing grin. “You’re stupid,” you said, but it only made Jihoon laugh.

“So is that what this is all about? A little bout of jealousy from my Y/N?”

You didn’t know what to focus on - the fact that he had finally put a name to what you were feeling or the face that he had called you his. It made you frown. “I wasn’t jealous,” you said, aware of how unbelievable you sounded.

“No? Then what made you want to leave so suddenly?”

“I- You-” you started, glaring at Jihoon when he snickered. “How come I can’t talk to guys but it’s okay for you to talk to girls?”

“So you are jealous.”

“No, I just think you’re being unfair. I’m calling you out on your hypocrisy, Hoon. Double standards and all that.”

Jihoon grinned. Had he known that he’d get such a reaction from you after talking to a friend that happened to be a girl, he’d have done it much earlier. And yet you had never had a problem with any of the girls in his usual friend group - if anything, the bunch of you often ganged up against him - so he wondered what was wrong with Shuhua in particular. Was it because you didn’t know her, and misunderstanding could arise?

His smile and eyes softened. No matter how adorable you looked to him right now, he wasn’t one to play games with feelings, his or yours. It was hard enough to make you realize how much he liked you (although he hoped that scene at the pool had made things more apparent), so he wasn’t going to make it even more confusing by letting you think he might like someone else.

Earlier, when he’d asked you if him dating someone else would bother you, and you’d answered no, he hadn’t formed any plan whatsoever to go off and talk to another girl right in front of you. Things just happened in his favor. He’d been talking with a whole group of people in the kitchen, but save for Jennifer, they’d all left for a game of spin the bottle (at their grown college age). Shuhua had a boyfriend back home and he had you, so they both had no interest for it. So it was just the two of them bonding over their love for Taylor Swift’s music when you appeared in the kitchen with Jaehyuk.

Did he also feel a pang of jealousy seeing you with another guy, even though it was just Jaehyuk and he already knew of your friendship? Perhaps, but this wasn’t anything new with Jihoon. He didn’t think he’d be able to get rid of it until he had the surety that you were his, which had felt like a faraway goal until recently. Maybe it was due to his growing boldness or maybe you had managed to piece everything together yourself, but he was sure he’d felt a shift in your attitude towards him lately. There were times you would get shyer than usual, refusing to look him in the eyes; other times, like tonight, you’d defy him, as if trying to prove to both him and yourself you didn’t feel any sort of way towards him. But he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had drifted down to his lips and stayed there for a few seconds, hadn’t missed your panic when things seemed to get too real.

Just like you, although he didn’t know about that, he also found that there was something different about tonight, some tension between the two of you that was bound to explode. The fact that you were both in swimsuits had probably not helped. As soon as he’d seen you in your black tube dress, his imagination had started running wild. The way you casually had a gray zip sweatshirt of his in your room and donned it before leaving your place had made it harder to not just keep you in your apartment while the others went off to the party, and seeing you in your bikini was like the final boss he hadn’t been able to defeat. Keeping his eyes off of you was simply impossible. He wasn’t sure how he had resisted kissing you right then and there, showing everyone who the prettiest girl in the room - hell, at this party - belonged to.

(Jihoon had a bit of a possessive streak.)

Even now that you had somewhat made up, he still felt the changed air around you, like there was no going back from here. No pretending there were no unsaid feelings anymore - at least, that’s how he felt. If you needed the extra push to realize either his feelings, your own, or both, he didn’t mind initiating it. If anything, he had been waiting for it.

So he made sure to clear things up. “I didn’t want you to talk to Sunwoo because I knew he had bad intentions. Or at least selfish ones. Shuhua has a boyfriend, nothing was gonna happen there.”

“Oh, but if she didn’t, something would’ve?”

“No, Y/N. No,” Jihoon said firmly.

“Why not? She’s pretty.” You knew you were being unreasonable at this point, arguing for the sake of arguing, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Jihoon sighed before placing a hand at the top of your head, brushing your hair gently. “I know someone who’s prettier.”

You turned your head slowly to look at him and were met with a sight you forever wanted to keep in your heart. Jihoon was looking down at you, eyes soft and filled with an emotion you wanted to describe as adoration, corners of his lips upturned into a sweet smile. You wanted to reach out and touch his cheek, feel the warmth of his skin under your palm and make sure he was real, but you were too stuck in his gaze to move.

“I actually know the prettiest girl in the world. I’m very lucky.”

You continued staring at each other for a few seconds or maybe a few hours, until he booped your nose and stood up. “Our Uber’s here, pretty girl.”

You took his extended hand in yours and let him help you up, still in a daze as he opened the car door for you and rushed to the other side. You didn’t expect the relief you felt when he took your hand in his again as the Uber started driving. As the driver and him made minimal small talk, you watched out the window, but you couldn’t hear or see anything - you could only focus on Jihoon’s fingers intertwined with yours. Had hand-holding always felt so natural?

Even once you reached your apartment and you had to let go of it to get out of the car, the only thing you wanted was to have it again.

You didn’t notice right away, as you punched in the code for the entrance to your apartment building, that Jihoon had stayed behind on the pavement. A light rain had started and his hair, all curled up from the pool, shone with small beads of water that the streetlights reflected on.

“Aren’t you coming up?” you asked, turning around to face him and leaning against the door so it wouldn’t close.

“Not tonight,” he simply said, and you hesitated to ask him why. Whatever it was, he must have his reason, and you would see him again soon anyway, so you dropped it.

“Okay.” You nodded and hoped you didn’t sound as disappointed as you felt.

You thought that would be it, but then he took a step closer to you, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. The doorstep made you taller so that your eyes were on a parallel with his lips, on which they naturally fell. No matter how confusing tonight might have been, if what you thought was about to happen actually did happen, you knew there was not a cell in your body that would resist it.

Jihoon leaned in closer and closer, until he was right there, and your lips would touch any second - but he leaned to the right, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips instead. You stood with bated breath as he leaned back, wearing a proud smirk. “Good to know you wouldn’t push me away if I tried to kiss you,” he said, but on this rare occasion, you were speechless.

His smirk softened to a smile as he ruffled your hair. “Good night, Y/N.”

It wasn’t until he had reached the corner, turning around and waving at you to go into your building before disappearing that you snapped out of it and made your way to your apartment. As soon as you’d shut your front door behind you, you realized just how disappointed you felt that Jihoon hadn’t come up like he usually did, how much you missed the reassurance of having him there, even if the two of you were a room apart.

You also realized you didn’t want any walls to separate you anymore.

And there you had it - the signs were too obvious to ignore anymore. The heart flutterings, the thoughts of him invading your mind day and night, the jealousy. The constant longing to be with him.

You were in love with Park Jihoon.

You fell into a deep sleep for about four hours, before waking up with a start.

You were in love with Park Jihoon.

What had seemed like a comforting thought at the time now freaked you out to no end. Park Jihoon was your best friend, your brother’s best friend, someone you’d met so long ago he’d known you during your embarrassing bangs phase of 2015 (BangGate, as your friends from home inappropriately liked to call it).

You were great as friends, sure, but how would you fare if things went further than that? There was no way for you to know other than by trying it firsthand. Did you want to take that leap, and risk falling face first - or chance falling right into his arms?

For some reassurance, you got your laptop out and went to Google. At first, you intended to search some YouTube videos or blog posts about successful best-friends-turned-lovers stories, but something deep inside your brain compelled you to type Omegle in the search bar. Even if it was five a.m. for you, it’d be a reasonable time of the day for people with good relationship advice somewhere, right?

In your interests, you typed love, relationship and advice, hoping this would lead you to your savior. After skipping a few naked men who apparently were into love too, two young girls appeared on your screen who, going off of their accent, were British. They looked about eleven and were doing their nails, not paying attention to their screen. NewJeans was playing in the background.

They were perfect.

“Hey, girls!” you said, cringing at the sound of your own voice.

They raised their heads in unison, looking at you for a second before coming closer to the screen, all wide smiles. One of them had braces with pink elastics. “Hey, girl!”

You decided you had no time to lose, so you directly told them you needed advice with a boy you liked. They nodded vigorously. So you told them everything - from how you and Jihoon had met, to reconnecting in September, to the events of the past few months (including a detailed rundown of what happened at the pool, which they loved). They even insisted on seeing a picture and squealed when you showed them. Your Jihoon really was handsome.

“So? What do you think I should do?” you asked when you were done recounting everything.

“I have this thing I do whenever I fancy someone,” the girl on the right started, while the other one munched on some sour candy. You nodded for her to continue. “It really helps me know if I should keep fancying them or if they’re not worth it. It’s called a compibi- compa- combali- Rosie, what was it again?”

“A compatibility test,” Rosie said, tongue blue from her candy.

“Right, that. It works like magic. Just the other week I thought for sure Leo was the cutest boy in school but then I did the test thing and got forty percent with him and a few days later he was dating Sarah anyway.”

“Sarah is terrible,” Rosie chipped in.

“Oh no!” you exclaimed.

“Yeah, really bad,” the other girl said, nodding. “But then, I did it with Martin and got eighty-six percent and we’ve been dating for ten days now, we have,” she finished proudly.

“That’s amazing.” You didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep or the conviction with which the girl spoke, but you were hooked. “How do I do it?” you asked, although you’d probably done it when you were their age too.

“Oh, it’s easy. You just type the comp- Rosie?”

“Compatibility.”

“That, test on Google and click any one of them and type in your name then his. Any of them will do, I’m sure,” she shrugged, reaching for a candy.

“Okay, let me do it right now. Gimme a sec.” After a few clicks, you’d reached an early 2010s-style website called lovecalculator.com, all pink and cupids shooting their arrows into the sky. You typed in your name, then Jihoon’s, then pressed a shaky finger to the Enter bar.

“Oh my gosh!” you squealed. “We got ninety-nine percent!”

“Oh my gosh!” the girls yelped back, clapping and hugging each other in celebration.

“Girl, you need to go tell him right now,” non-Rosie said firmly.

“Right now,” Rosie echoed.

You pouted. “I can’t, it’s five a.m. right now.”

“You better go later then! You two are meant to be! You’ll last at least like, a month or two.”

“At least.”

After thanking and saying good-bye to your new best friends, you spent a good three minutes staring at the big 99% in bright pink on your screen. This randomly generated number made you so happy that you took a screenshot and printed it out on Minjeong’s printer in the living room, then put it on your fridge for you to admire. You used a magnet Jihoon had gifted you for Christmas - it was a four-cut photobooth picture of you two you’d taken at the Christmas market. You thought you’d only taken the paper version, but he’d made you go get food for the both of you while he bought the magnet version as well.

Your mind at ease, you started heading back to your room, but you ran into someone right as you walked out of the kitchen.

You looked him up and down. Yoshinori was standing in your living room half-naked, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“H-hey, Y/N,” he said, breaking the silence first. “I’m sorry, I thought you were sleeping…”

“I woke up early,” you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at his awkwardness. “What are you doing?”

“Just, um, just getting some water.”

“And you have to come to my apartment to do that?”

“No, I, um- Someone called the cops, so Jaehyuk kicked all of us out.”

“I thought you were in a room somewhere?”

“Yeah, but we went outside to see what was happening, and he saw us, so we had to leave.”

“Right… Well, glad you made it back home safe.” The strangeness of the situation suddenly hit you, and you realized you should probably let the half-naked man get his glass of water and leave. “I’ll go back to my room, then.”

“Oh, right, see you, Y/N. And sorry.”

“No worries!” you said, waving his apology off and scurried off to your bedroom. You plopped into your bed with a satisfied sigh, hugging a plushie Jihoon had won for you at an arcade close to your chest. He really was everywhere.

When you woke up next, sunlight was pouring from the window into your room. You checked your phone - nine a.m.. Not early enough to go to late sleeper Jihoon’s place, but definitely early enough to call your probably still sleeping brother. You had to tell someone about your newfound revelation, and Minjeong next door was either asleep or busy.

Your phone rang with an outgoing call for so long that you thought Junkyu might simply not pick up. “I’m in love with Jihoon,” you blurted out as soon as your brother’s face appeared on screen.

He paused for a second, taking your words in, then yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”

“I’m in love with Jihoon,” you repeated, more insistently.

“I heard you the first time.”

“Well, what do you think?!” you asked, impatience rising. You couldn’t believe your brother could be sarcastic in an emergency like this.

Junkyu frowned. “Uh, congratulations?”

You tutted. “Kyu, I’m serious about this!”

“I know, I can tell,” he said, chuckling. “Are you going to tell him?”

“I think I have to. I think… I think he feels the same way about me, actually.”

Junkyu rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.”

You paused. “Huh?”

“Everyone and their mom knows he’s in love with you, we were just all waiting for you to see it.”

“Huh?!” Junkyu shrugged. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Your brother sighed. “Some things in life, you have to figure out on your own, sis. Like taxes.” You just frowned at him. “Well, how did you figure it out?”

“Now that you say it, I guess I should’ve noticed it earlier. But really what happened is I saw him talking to a girl.”

“Put the man in jail!”

“Shut up. And then we talked for a bit, and he didn’t outright say it, but he heavily implied that he… liked me.”

Junkyu scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”

You ignored your brother. “But I don’t know if I should wait for a bit or go tell him now-”

“Y/N. Please, put that man out of his misery and go tell him now.”

“Don’t you think he’d get upset if I confessed first? You know Jihoon, he gets proud about random things like that.”

“Believe me, he won’t care. He’ll just be happy you like him back after all this time.”

You thought for a second, a small smile blooming on your lips. “Does he really like me that much?”

Junkyu sighed. “He’s been harping on about you since we were fourteen. He probably keeps a diary or a boyblog where he just writes about you. Just go get him, girl.”

Your smile grew wider and your heart started beating faster, excitement growing in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jihoon again. “Okay, I will.” You and your brother stared at each other for a second, eyes wide in anticipation, until something struck you.

“Wait… You don’t mind, do you? Your sister and best friend dating?”

“I l-word both of you, so no, I don’t mind. I trust you both enough to not hurt each other. But I’m still your brother, so if that prick does anything to hurt you, I’ll kick his ass, okay?”

“Kyu, he bench-presses your weight as a joke.”

He squinted his eyes at you. “I’ll metaphorically kick his ass, then.”

“And what if I hurt him?”

Junkyu thought for a second. “I’ll… give you the silent treatment for a few days.”

“How scary,” you laughed.

“Anyways, congratulations in advance and all that, but for my mental health please pretend you’re not a couple in front of me and remember that premarital sex is a sin.”

“Will do! Bye, Kyu!”

Right after hanging up with your brother, you texted Jihoon, asking if you could come over. You quickly got ready, doing affirmations in the mirror to calm yourself down, and as soon as your phone pinged with Jihoon’s answer (miss me already?), you were out the door. It was usually a thirteen-minute walk between your and Jihoon’s place, but with the power of love, it only took you eight.

You felt like your body had gone on autopilot - instead of practicing over and over what you would say to him in your head, imagining all the terrible ways it could go or pacing back and forth in front of his apartment building, you just walked, the loud thumping of your heart in your ears drowning everything else out. You’d just get there and get it over with.

Even when you had to wait for seven seconds (you counted) for Jihoon to open the door after you’d rung the doorbell, you didn’t start panicking.

“Hey, Y/N, I just ordered some-”

“I love you.”

“Breakfast… You what?”

“I love you, Hoonie,” you beamed. The relief of letting those words free made tears pool in the corner of your eyes.

Jihoon just stared at you, mouth agape and expression like he couldn’t believe what was hearing. Reaching for your hand, he brought you closer to him and shut the door behind you, eyes never once leaving yours. Then, he pulled you into a hug, one so tight you’d be worried about your blood circulation being cut off if it wasn’t Jihoon’s arms you were in.

“Can you say it again, please?” he asked, nose buried in your hair and voice weak like you’d never heard it before.

You tightened your hold around his waist. “I love you,” you whispered.

“Again?”

“I love you,” you repeated, giggling.

He laughed too, more out of relief than anything. “I love you, too.”

He leaned back and raised his hands to gently cup your face in his palms. The both of you were smiling like idiots from ear to ear, gazing into each other’s eyes. Tears streamed down your cheek and he wiped them away with a thumb before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Took you long enough,” he said, making you laugh again.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t be. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

“I’m happy for you guys and all, but could you like, not do this here?” a voice interrupted you. You looked behind Jihoon’s shoulder to find Hyunsuk, one of his roommates, on the living room sofa, watching Brooklyn 99. You hadn’t even noticed him. In his defense, you were declaring your love for each other right next to him in the entrance hallway.

“Oh, right, sorry, Suk. Let’s go into my room,” he said, tugging at your hand.

The both of you burst into giggles as soon as the door shut behind you. Jihoon wasted no time in pulling you into another hug, and it felt like your whole body sighed as you let his warmth engulf you. You cursed yourself for not letting yourself have this earlier. You gently rocked from side to side together, as if slow dancing to a melody only the two of you could hear.

“I guess a little jealousy goes a long way, huh?” Jihoon said after a minute of silence.

“I wasn’t jealous,” you huffed, leaning back so he could see your frown.

“What made you realize your undying love for me, then?”

“I just… I thought we’d be good together. I realized how compatible we are, if you will.”

“Our compatibility? Did you only notice it last night?”

You grinned. “Guess I did,” you answered, just to tease him. Jihoon did not need to know about your love calculator epiphany.

He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. You felt shy under his gaze, but you couldn’t get yourself to look away. “So does that mean we’re… boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked, making you burst into laughter. “Don’t make fun of me! It’s important to make things clear,” he complained between giggles.

“Yes, let’s be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Awesome,” he replied, then pursed his lips as if debating to say what he wanted to say next. “So, now that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend…”

“Yes, Hoon?”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips that you mirrored.

“Please,” you whispered.

So he did.

When his lips touched yours, it was like a flower that had been waiting for the right moment finally bloomed inside your chest. It felt soft, and comforting, and just right. Like your lips had always meant to meet.

At least, it started out that way. The fabric of Jihoon’s t-shirt bunched up in your hands while his cupped your face tenderly, your lips moving in a slow cadence against each other’s as if you had all the time in the world - and you did. You were both so filled to the brim with excitement that when you pulled away for a breather, you laughed together, foreheads resting against each other.

But then, you raised your hands and threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on it gently as you deepened the kiss. You probably hadn’t done it on purpose, simply wanting to feel more of Jihoon out of some basic instinct - but it undid something in him.

He slid his hands down the sides of your neck and your shoulders until they reached your arms, pulling on them to have your body closer to his. His hands then continued their journey down to your waist, where they sneaked themselves under your t-shirt. They ran up and up until almost your entire back was exposed to the fresh air in his room, the contrast between that and the fire-hot warmth of Jihoon’s hands against your bare skin making you shiver.

He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit his mattress, unto which he helped you down gently, somehow not breaking the kiss as he did. One of his hands came to brush hair away from your face, while the other remained on your waist, after some time venturing onto your stomach, a sensitive spot for you that made you sigh into his mouth. He took that opportunity to slide his tongue against yours, yet another new sensation that made your head spin.

This was exceeding any expectations you had ever had for a first kiss. In fact, you had always thought first kisses were messy, awkward things, but this was nothing of the sort - your whole body was on edge, responding to every little movement on Jihoon’s part. Your fingers buzzed with a fizzy electricity that put your brain in a daze. You could do this forever, you thought.

But forever was cut short by the sudden buzz of Jihoon’s phone. Jihoon started, practically leaping off of you and dramatically holding onto his chest when he realized it was just his phone that had interrupted you. The delivery person was calling him to announce their arrival.

Jihoon pressed a kiss to your forehead, took a few steps, then came back to press another kiss, this time to your lips. Your stomach growled loudly while you waited for him, and you realized you still hadn’t eaten today. Add making out to that, you were ready to devour whatever it was Jihoon had ordered.

The smell coming from the paper bag Jihoon held as he entered the room again made you close your eyes in bliss and take a deep whiff. “Johnny’s,” you whispered. “You know me so well.”

Johnny’s was your absolute favorite breakfast place in all of town. It had been opened a few years ago by a graduate of your university who had mastered the art of hangover food. From soups, to hash brown patties, to iced coffee, he knew exactly what it was that students needed after a night out. You could tell he had a lot of experience with that himself. He was kind of like a God amongst the student body of your university.

“Of course I do. I know your order from all of your favorite restaurants, and somehow you only realized yesterday that I was pathetically in love with you.”

You smiled sheepishly, taking a bite of your sausage and egg wrap. “How long are you going to hold this over my head?”

Jihoon grinned brightly. “Until I forget about it.”

“So never?”

“Precisely.”

He put on the next episode of your show, and for the next couple hours, the two of you stayed holed up in his room, cuddling once you were done with your food. Even though you had spent endless time watching shows or movies side by side, neither of you had ever dared initiate physical touch, no matter how much you’d wanted to. He’d been scared you’d pull away from him, and you’d been scared it’d be awkward. You hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for his proximity and warmth until you had it.

Save for his laptop screen, it’d been quiet for a while, and you thought you might fall asleep when Jihoon spoke. “I’m so glad I don’t need to pretend anymore,” he said as one episode finished and the next one started.

“Pretend what?”

“That I’m not desperately in love with you and that every single little thing you do doesn’t drive me insane.”

You giggled. “Does it?”

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a heavy sigh, almost a groan. There was a slight edge to it, a deeper meaning behind that short yes that had your stomach suddenly feeling very tight.

“Oh,” was all you could answer. You suddenly wondered what you might have done without thinking that had had an effect on Jihoon, just as he’d done to you many times before. You also wondered what sort of effect you may have had on him, what sort of thoughts he may have had about you that he had to keep to himself all this time.

Tentatively, you cocked your head up, only to find he was already looking down at you. The glint in his eyes made your body burn. Just as he started to lean in to reunite your lips, your phone buzzed with many texts in a row. Jihoon closed his eyes in frustration and sighed. “I want to throw both of our phones away,” he said, making you laugh.

minjeong hey pooks idk if ur out somewhere or still sleeping but im going to yoshis placeee he needs some stuff there so we’re going together and i’ll prob spend the night over… we’re like inseparable rn or wtv. anyways dont set the place on fire while i’m gone x

you ok thx for letting me know xx im w my boyfriend rn

Minjeong’s response didn’t even take three seconds to come through.

minjeong HUHHHH??? GIRL ???

you hehe

minjeong park jihoon is one lucky man

you how do u know its him?

minjeong literally who else would it be wait does that mean we’ll go on double dates…

you yeah ur right and pls no

minjeong DOUBLE DATES !! girls night tomorrow night i want all the deeeets have fun having the place all to urselves and rmb to use protection xx

you why is that where ur mind goes first ?? down for girls night tho can we watch teen beach movie

minjeong duhhh

“Teen Beach Movie?” Jihoon said, startling you. You hadn’t realized he’d been reading over your shoulders.

“It’s a good movie,” you mumbled, frowning.

“Right.” He said nothing for a few seconds, but he just couldn’t contain himself. The question was burning his tongue. “Aren’t you on the pill?”

Your head snapped towards him at the sudden question. “Uh, yeah, I am. Why?”

His eyes scanned your face as a smirk grew on his lips. “Then we don’t need to use protection, do we?”

You gulped. Your whole face felt hot - after having just shared your first kiss, you hadn’t expected him to mention sex so easily. Not that you weren’t interested in that, far from it, you were just… nervous.

You turned away from him, unable to sustain his gaze any longer. “I guess not,” you murmured. You had started taking the pill at the beginning of university, mainly to regulate your period and lessen your hormonal acne. The contraceptive part was just a bonus, one you had never imagined would come into handy like this.

Jihoon’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, I need to tell Yoshi about this! He’s gonna freak. I hope he won’t be mad he learned it from Minjeong and not me first.”

“Yoshi?” you asked as you watched him reach for his phone on his nightstand.

“Yeah, we’ve been updating each other on our love lives. He’s really into Minjeong, by the way.”

“That’s… strangely wholesome, actually.”

While he typed away, you tilted your head and took the time to appreciate your boyfriend’s features. The round eyes, heart-shaped lips, sharp nose and even sharper jawline. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.

Without thinking, you traced a finger along his jaw, liking the feel of it against your skin. When his eyes found yours, you dropped your hand and straightened your head, expression like you’d just been caught red-handed.

“Should we go back to your place? We can pick up food on the way.”

You smiled. “We just ate.”

“And I’m hungry again,” he said, mirroring your smile and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Or at least, he had intended it as a chaste kiss, but he found that he couldn’t quite get himself to pull away. “Let’s go,” he said, lips moving against yours as he spoke, but made no move to actually go.

“Let’s go,” you repeated, staying perfectly still. You’re not sure who was the one to cross the millimeters between your lips, but before you knew it, you and Jihoon’s lips were stuck to each other once more. This kiss had none of the gradual intensity of the previous one - right off the bat, the feeling of Jihoon’s lips against yours flooded all of your senses.

Your hands found purchase in his hair while his found their way to your waist once more. With surprising ease, he pulled you to him so that you were straddling his lap. For a second there, you were conscious about how heavy you might be on top of him, but it was all forgotten when he pressed his lips to yours again in a passionate kiss. In this new position, you could press your body close to his, so close you could almost feel his heart beat against yours. He also had easier access to your back than before, and he quickly took advantage of that.

Just like before, he sneaked his hands underneath your t-shirt, making you arch your back against him. He slid a finger underneath your bra strap and pulled away for a second to ask if this was okay. You looked at him - his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen before and his face had lust written all over it. You were sure you looked similar.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you whispered before diving back into the kiss. One second apart felt like hours to you.

Your breath got shakier as he unclasped your bra. He didn’t do anything right away, settling on brushing his palm up and down your back while your heart raced with anticipation. You were so on edge that you couldn’t even kiss him anymore - you buried your face in his neck, gripping his hair so tightly you were probably hurting him. You didn’t care if he could feel how desperate you were. Then, finally, painfully slowly, one of his hands made its way to your front, and he gently grabbed your breast underneath your bra that was hanging from your shoulders. That was already a foreign sensation in itself, but when he took your nipple between two fingers and pulled on it ever-so-gently, the pleasure that overtook your body was so intense that it made you let out a loud gasp and you pulled away from Jihoon, startled as if you had been shocked by lightning.

“Are you okay?” he asked, breathing heavily, a mix of worry and desire in his eyes.

You nodded, holding onto his shoulders as you tried to make your breathing return to normal. “I’m fine, just… it’s all very new, is all. I’ve never done any of this before.”

Never had a boyfriend, never held hands romantically, never kissed - that was you. Not that you minded, though, since you’d never been interested in anyone and you were happy to do this with Jihoon, whom you trusted more than anyone else.

He smiled softly. “That’s okay. Does it at least feel good?” he asked, low voice making the hairs on your arms stand.

You whined, hiding your face in the dip of his shoulder again. “It does…” you admitted, voice muffled against his skin.

“You know, it’s my first time too,” he said after a while.

You lifted your head to look at him. “Really?”

“Mh-hm. You’re my first girlfriend.” His eyes were full of affection as he gazed at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You giggled. “What’s funny?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“We’re each other’s firsts,” you explained. “I think that’s nice.”

Jihoon made his way to your lips, giving them a small peck. “That is nice. And I promise I’ll make you feel so good,” another peck, “you’ll want me to be your last as well.”

You looked at him for a bit, taking in his features that looked even more beautiful to you now that you’d realized your feelings for him, and thought of a life with him. It might have been slightly premature, but you already knew you liked the idea of that.

“Okay,” you said, as if what he had said had been an offer. It made him smile.

“Okay.” He kissed you, softly like you could break underneath his touch. “You’re so cute, you know that?” he asked against your lips, but didn’t leave you time to answer before kissing you again. “Okay, I think we should take a break,” he said after a few minutes. “We can go to your place. And then we’ll have more… privacy.”

You agreed that spending some time not pressed up against Jihoon might help you think straight again. The walk to your apartment was nice and quiet, your interlocked hands swinging back and forth between your two bodies. When you walked past the grocery store, you stopped in your tracks, looking at Jihoon with a smile which he mirrored immediately, even without knowing the reason behind it.

“Should we bake a cake to celebrate our first day together?”

“That’s very cheesy.” His grin widened as he took a step closer to you. “I love it.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and led you into the store.

The rest of that afternoon was spent baking and decorating the cake. It was a simple vanilla batter, but it took way longer than it should have, because Jihoon first insisted on having a flour fight (which took ages to clean), then on having two cakes and having a competition for whose would be prettier (yours, of course), but you loved every last second of it. It was like a scene out of a movie, and you could not have been more content. To really bring home the cheesiness of it all, you even recorded yourselves blowing out the number one candles of your respective cakes.

The evening came around, and, full of cake and Chinese takeout, you were holed up in bed together, watching the first movie that had popped up on your Netflix recommended. It was too easy, falling asleep in his arms. The combination of his comforting scent and the soft back rubs he was giving you lulled you to sleep like nothing else.

When you woke up next, it was because of a sudden lack of warmth next to you. You lifted your head to find Jihoon opening your bedroom door and heading into the living room. He had just been going to get water, but you didn’t know that.

“Hoon?” you called out, raising yourself to a sitting position on your bed. He immediately turned around, walking back towards you and crouching next to your bed.

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you staying?” you asked, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. He looked at your hand before his gaze slowly made its way back up towards your face, a smirk growing on his pretty lips.

“Do you want me to?” he asked back, gazing deep into your eyes. His voice had dropped to a low volume that made it hard to breathe. Initially, you’d just wanted him back by your side, but now all sorts of thoughts were running through your mind.

“Of course. I mean, we’re dating, right?”

In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, you tried to chuckle, but all laughter died in your throat when your eyes locked with Jihoon’s. You weren’t scared of his intensity - you were scared of the pace at which your desire for him was growing. One inch closer, and you knew you’d be wrapped around his finger.

He leaned closer.

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, tilting his head innocently to the side. Mindlessly, you rubbed your thighs together, searching for some relief for your core that had started to throb of its own accord, but Jihoon was following your every movement and had noticed it. “Are you saying you want to consummate our relationship?” he asked again, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed his hands on your knee that wasn’t covered by the blanket.

You scoffed and looked away, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. “Not if you say it like that,” you mumbled.

Jihoon’s eyebrows perked up. “How should I say it, then?” he whispered. His hand slowly brushed along your sides until it reached your waist. Even over your layer of clothing, his touch burned. “You want me to make love to you?”

You kept your gaze fixed on something behind his shoulder, focusing on your breathing that was getting shakier and shakier. He drew the blanket away, leaving your thighs exposed to the chilly air for a second before he splayed his large palms on them, bringing you some warmth but intensifying the throbbing in your core. His hands inched closer and closer to where you most needed them, rubbing over your inner thighs but swerving right before he actually reached your core, setting them on your hip bones instead.

“Or do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”

He took your chin between two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your eyes locked for a second before they dropped to his lips, watching the smirk that grew on them. “Guess it’s the latter.”

As soon as your lips touched, you were overwhelmed by the immensity of your desire for him. Your whole body burned in want, in need. You had no idea what to do except hold on tightly to him and hope for the best, hope that he’d know how to guide you through this even if it was new for him as well.

If you thought the kisses you’d shared earlier in the day had been intense, this one was on a whole other level. Your hands grabbed everywhere they could find and his gripped your waist firmly as your tongues danced with each other, resulting in a messy kiss that had your head spinning from lack of air in seconds. And yet, you couldn’t get enough. You kept pulling Jihoon impossibly closer by the hem of his t-shirt until he got frustrated from the layer of clothing between you two and simply took it off, discarding somewhere in your room. He gave you no time to admire his defined chest or abs, because he trapped your lips right away.

He pushed you slowly onto the bed until he was hovering over you, alternating between kissing your lips and your neck, that you were sure would have a couple of purple marks for you to find the next day. Your skin burned wherever he touched it, and it was like a trail of fire had appeared as his hand made its way to your breasts once more, grabbing harshly at the soft flesh there.

The whole time, he had been in some sort of a trance, drunk on your body, on your scent, on the way you were touching him - on the feeling that you finally wanted him as much as he’d wanted you all this time. But when he helped you out of the articles of clothing covering your upper body, and he had you half-naked underneath him, he had to take a double take and remember to take his time instead of just devouring you whole. For both his sake and yours.

So he stopped for a bit, letting himself admire you. He noticed you shifting uncomfortably, so he leaned down again, pressing soft kisses along your cheeks and your jaw. “You really are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered before kissing you. He then continued his journey down your neck and collarbones until he reached your breast. “Really so beautiful.”

When he took one of your nipples in his mouth, your back arched against him and you let out a loud moan. He couldn’t keep himself from chuckling slightly - he found it adorable how sensitive you were everywhere he touched you. Your moans were like music to his ears.

Nothing had ever felt like this before. As he circled his tongue around your nipple - God knows where he had learned how to do this - it took everything you had to not just scream in pleasure. Even if Minjeong was out, you still had neighbors. Now that you couldn’t grab his t-shirt, you’d switched to his hair, and you were tugging at it so hard you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ripped a clump of it from his head.

Your panties were sticking to your core, all slick with your arousal, and you didn’t know how long you could go on anymore without attention down there.

As if he’d heard your thoughts, Jihoon started making his way down your body once more, trailing kisses all across your ribcage and stomach.

“I’m torn between taking this real slow and making it last as long as possible.” His lips found a sensitive spot on your lower stomach, right next to your hip bone, and he gently bit the skin there, licking it afterwards to offer you some relief. “Or just devouring you now that I finally have you.”

“Jihoon,” you sighed, desperation evident in your voice. “Please, just do something.”

“Like what?” he asked, clearly enjoying your lust-filled state of mind.

“Anything.”

He chuckled, and by the sound of it, you knew he didn’t have anything good in mind. He lowered himself some more until his mouth was positioned right in front of your pussy, and, with no warning, licked a long strip from your hole to your clit over your panties, humming at the taste of your arousal.

“Something like this?” he asked afterwards, but was only met with a whine. He kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs while you squirmed in his hold.

“Don’t tease me, please…” you begged, and your voice was so weak and genuine that he could only give in.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he obliged, the nickname rolling off of his tongue casually. He had no idea what it did to you.

He helped you out of your underwear, finally getting you fully naked just for him. Jihoon was a man of his words, so not a second was lost before he dived right back into you, licking up the arousal spilling out of you before flicking his tongue at your clit. He held your hips tightly in both of his hands so you couldn’t squirm away from him and ate you out like a man starved. You were so sweet and warm against his tongue, and your taste was worlds more intoxicating than any alcohol he’d ever had. He’d do this forever if you let him.

He noticed quickly that attention to your clit was what got you moaning the loudest, so he alternated between circling his tongue around it and gently sucking at it, sometimes releasing it with a pop just for the hell of it. He slipped a finger easily inside of you, your wetness accommodating him immediately. He couldn’t wait to be inside you - his hard cock was throbbing in the confines of his underwear, but his only concern right now was to make you come undone for him.

When he found that deep spot inside of you, the one that had you gasping in pleasure and moaning his name, he slid a second finger in, and just like that, you were done for. You came apart on his fingers and tongue, a complete moaning mess underneath him, and he lapped up the arousal leaking out of you like it was water.

You’d already thought you were at the peak of pleasure when your orgasm came ripping through you like an avalanche, blindsiding you and making you see bright white stars behind your tightly closed eyelids. Your throat felt dry from all the moaning and heaving you’d been doing. You had to take Jihoon’s face between your hands and gently pull him up yourself, otherwise it seemed like he was happy to keep going, but it was starting to overwhelm you.

Jihoon held you in his arms as you came down from your high. You let out the laughter bubbling in your throat as your breathing returned to normal - not because something was funny, but because you had just felt so ridiculously amazing that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“How was it?” Jihoon asked, a lot shyer than you’d expected.

You lifted your head to look at him, a bright smile on your face even though you felt close to exhausted. “I have a hard time believing that was your first time giving head, Hoon.”

He chuckled. “Very first time, I promise you. I must just have some God-given skills.”

“I’m not even gonna fight you on that, because that was amazing,” you conceded, nuzzling yourself closer to him.

“I’m glad I could do that for you,” he said softly, burying his nose at the top of your head and inhaling there. The scent of your hair was oddly comforting for him.

Before you let yourself drift off to sleep, you started raking your fingernails across his chest and abs, smiling proudly to yourself when you heard him breathe shakily or felt his muscles clench under your touch. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could tell he was holding himself back. “I think,” you started, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, “That you deserve something in return.”

“You don’t-”

You knew Jihoon. He didn’t like it when you insisted on paying for coffee because he’d done it the last time, or when you baked him something because he’d stayed up all night with you studying for a test. He liked taking care of you, but you always had to almost force him to let you take care of him. You wanted your relationship to be fifty-fifty - you wanted to give him as much as he gave you. Even if he would let you, it wasn’t fair to just take and take.

So you insisted. Whatever he was about to say, it died on his tongue as soon as you placed your palm on his erection. It felt hot and hard under your hand, and saying you weren’t slightly intimidated would be a lie, but you wanted to do this. If you were able to give Jihoon half the pleasure he’d given you moments prior, you’d be satisfied.

You rubbed your hand slowly up and down over his clothes. “Really, baby,” he managed to say between shaky breaths, “I didn’t do that to get something in return- Fuck,” he whispered as you hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling it down his legs so he was only left in his underwear. Under the black fabric, his bulge looked huge, and you gulped at the idea of having it inside you.

“This feels good, right, Hoon?” you asked, steadily getting bolder and pressing slightly harder against his bulge as you continued rubbing it.

“It- it does, but-”

You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated it immediately, almost unconsciously, before moaning into the kiss. “So let me do this for you,” you whispered before ridding him of his underwear.

“Okay,” he said, sighing as you rubbed your hands from his knees along his thighs.

The groan he let out as you took him in your hand sent shivers straight down your spine. You could finally put to use all the knowledge Minjeong had passed on to you over the past few months. You let go of Jihoon’s cock to spit in your hand, the moisture helping you glide your loosely closed fist along his shaft with more ease. Your movements themselves were probably very clumsy, but Jihoon didn’t seem to mind - he moaned shamelessly, head fallen back against the pillows and exposed Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Seeing him like this and knowing it was all because of you drove you crazy, and soon, you became greedy for any sign of pleasure from him. You wanted to hear all of his moans, sighs, groans, watch his abs clench tightly and feel him grab your hair, which he did as soon as you flicked your tongue across his tip, already leaking with pre-cum. The endless string of curses and moans that flew from his mouth as you circled your tongue and shallowly bobbed your mouth around him filled you with satisfaction.

“Fuck, just like that, Y/N. You’re doing so fucking well, baby. Making me feel so good.” Those words had been the cherry on top.

Jihoon was of a more-than-decent size, and fitting all of him inside of your mouth was probably a task that would take a few tries to achieve - you still did your best to take as much of him as you could. You massaged his balls with one of your hands, using the other to hold the base of his shaft while you bobbed your head up and down. You did this with increasing speed then let him take control over your pace as his fingers threaded themselves in your hair, guiding your head around him. You didn’t even know if he was doing it on purpose or out of reflex, but you definitely did not mind handing him the reins.

“You’re gonna make me- Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.” You hummed around his shaft, and that seemed to do him in - with a loud groan, he released his load, hot and sticky inside your mouth. Taken aback by the bitter taste, you lifted your head and only swallowed what you had caught. You took him in your hand again, jerking him off to help him ride out the rest of his high.

You watched him, transfixed by his heaving chest, eyes screwed shut, the beads of sweat pearling across his torso, and the red blush that had spread from his face down to his neck. You’d done this. You’d gotten Jihoon in such a state. You let him rest for a bit as you wiped your hands and his body with a tissue and had a sip of water.

You then pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking the time to admire his smiling face. When he opened his eyes and found yours, you suddenly felt so shy that you returned to your usual cuddling position, head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. You were both smelly and sticky, but you couldn’t care less.

“You did so good, baby. You did such a good job,” he whispered, the praise going right to your heart.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That was amazing.” He sighed contentedly, then lowered his head to look at you. “You feeling sleepy?”

You shook your head no, a shy smile on your lips.

Jihoon smirked slightly. “You wanna keep going?”

You nodded.

He shifted himself so that his back rested against the headboard. “Come here,” he whispers, pulling you to his lap. You both winced in sensitivity at the feeling of your core right against his softening dick, but you didn’t want to pull apart either. If anything, the small stimulation created a pit in your lower stomach for the second time of the night.

You wrapped your arms lazily around his neck while he rested one of his hands on your hips and used the other one to rub your back. “How are you feeling?” he asked, eyes soft and full of affection.

You pressed a long, gentle kiss to his lips. “Good. Really good,” you said, making him chuckle.

“Good. Me too.”

You made out lazily, lips moving languidly against each other, neither of you in a rush to get anywhere. But after some time, you started to feel Jihoon hardening under you, and when you rocked your hips against him, coating his growing erection with arousal, he groaned. His hands traveled down to your ass, grabbing hard at the skin there as he helped you rock back and forth against him. You started out slowly at first, moaning every time your clit brushed against his tip, but it wasn’t long before you sped things up and lost yourself in pleasure once again. Your arms tightened their hold around his neck and, burying your face in his neck, you pressed your chest flush to his and muffled your moans against his skin, in both pleasure and frustration at having him right against you but not inside.

You suddenly lifted your head, and the look on your face made Jihoon instantly stop. “Is everything okay, baby?”

You nodded, but your worry was still evident in the crease of your brows. “Yeah, I just…” You pouted. “I’m scared it’ll hurt, Hoon.”

Jihoon caressed the side of your cheek with his palm, brushing some hair away from your face. “We don’t have to do this today-”

“No!” you exclaimed, taking the both of you aback. “I want to.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just a little bit nervous.”

“Okay. That’s okay, baby.” One of his hands rubbed reassuring circles into your lower back. “We can go as slow as you want, okay? And we can stop whenever you want. Just let me know. Does that sound good?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, it does.”

Jihoon smiled and pressed his lips to yours. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

He helped you lay on your back against the mattress and hovered over you, propping himself up on one forearm. As he kissed you, he caressed one of your thighs, hand inching closer and closer to your core and making your blood rush with anticipation. Then he finally pressed two fingers to your folds, gathering up some of your arousal

before sliding his digits inside of you. As you gasped out in pleasure, his lips trailed away from your lips and found a new home in your neck.

He scissored his fingers inside of you, stretching you out and getting you ready for him as he murmured words of “you’re doing so well” and “I’ll make you feel good,” as if he wasn’t already. When you seemed relaxed enough, he slid his fingers out of you, smiling at you mischievously while he sucked your arousal off of them. Then, taking his dick by the base, he rubbed his tip along your folds, making your body twitch and loud moans escape your mouth. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek and buried his face in your neck, trying to ground himself too as he slowly started pushing himself inside of you.

His dick was so much bigger than his fingers, and you gripped his hair tightly as you got used to the new sensation. Tears prickled in your eyes, the unexpected stretch making you frown in discomfort. It was a completely different pain to what you were used to, but the overwhelming pleasure mixed with it made it almost welcome.

Jihoon was using all of his self-control to not pound you into tomorrow - your tight pussy was sucking him right in, and it was like his whole body sighed of relief when he bottomed out. He couldn’t believe he was inside you, feeling your walls clench around him and hearing your soft grunts as you got used to him. It was a scene right out of his wet dreams.

“You okay?” he asked, voice muffled against your skin. His voice sounded strained and heavy.

“I’m okay, Hoonie. I just need a minute.”

For that minute, as you breathed shallowly and relaxed around him, Jihoon pressed wet kisses wherever his lips could reach and twirled one of your nipples between two fingers to take your mind off of your pain.

“Take your time. I know I’m big, baby,” he said. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“No, you’re just right, Hoon. It feels nice now.”

Objectively, Jihoon knew that this was a good thing, and that you had meant in a good way - better for him to fit right inside rather than cause you pain, but a part of his ego had still been hurt by your refutal of his claim. But then you told him he could move, and he forgot all about it.

It took him another superhuman kind of effort to go slow, slowly rolling his hips against yours with a self-control he didn’t know he had. He scanned your face for any signs of discomfort, kissing your small frown in the hope it might go away. He watched as your jaw relaxed and the soft hums escaping your throat turned into moans, as the crease in your eyebrows softened and turned into one of pleasure rather than pain. He allowed his movements to speed up, noting with satisfaction the increasing volume of the noises you were making and the way your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

He lifted himself on his palms and hooked one of your legs around his hips, the new, deeper angle having you seeing stars. He asked if you were okay again, and when you not only nodded yes, but asked him to go faster, Jihoon had to admit he got a little bit carried away, both in his actions and his words.

Jihoon had a big mouth - you knew it, everyone knew it. What you didn’t know was that he would keep that big mouth even balls-deep inside you.

Maintaining a fast pace, he lowered himself so that his lips tickled your ear as he spoke. “You’re doing so well, baby. Taking my cock like the good girl you are. Isn’t that right? You’re my good girl,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harsh rolls of his hips into yours. You couldn’t even get yourself to answer, that’s how far gone you were, his words going into your one ear and coming out the other. All you could think about was how good it all felt, from his tip repeatedly hitting that delicious spot inside of you to the feeling of his warm, sticky skin against yours. The room smelled of sweat and arousal and was filled with all sorts of noises - your heavy breathing, your moans, your grunts, the wet sound of Jihoon’s dick inside of you.

“Can’t even say anything, can you? Am I making you feel that good, baby?”

You moaned, thinking that should be enough of a yes for him, but you should’ve known better.

“I think you should answer me when I ask you a question, Y/N,” he commanded, slowing his pace down to get you to listen to him.

“Y-yes, it feels so good, Hoon,” you replied, out-of-breath.

“Attagirl,” he whispered, smiling as he bit the lobe of your ear.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Jihoon halted in his motions, feeling one of your hot, wet tears on his palm. He was quick to wipe it away, searching for any pain in your features, but you only whined, asking him why he’d stopped.

“Why are you crying, baby? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” he asked frantically. The worry in his voice only amplified your already overflowing love for him.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just… God, this is so embarrassing,” you all but sobbed against his skin, realizing that the pleasure had been so overwhelming, tears had started flowing from your eyes.

“No, it’s not.”

You screwed your eyes shut for a second before meeting his gaze again. “I just- it feels so good, Hoon.”

A pause passed as he took a deep breath. “Is that it?”

“It is, I promise. Please, just… let’s keep going, Hoonie. I was so close,” you whined, and Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at your desperation. How was it that he still found you so adorable even in such a situation?

“Okay, baby. I’m relieved.” He wiped more of your tears that had fallen, but as soon as he moved inside of you again, taking a minute to return to his previous harsh pace, your tears resumed streaking down your cheeks. Jihoon kissed them, savoring their salty taste on his tongue.

It didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to become tight again, and with every deep thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart. All fucked out for me.”

“Mm. I’m so close, Hoon, gonna- fuck, gonna-”

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum and make a mess all over my cock?”

“Yes, Hoon, fuck-”

You gasped out loud as his hand found your clit again, using his thumb to rub quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Cum for me, sweetheart, show me how good it feels.”

That did it for you. Your second orgasm of the night washed over you, making you release your loudest moan yet. You held on to Jihoon like you might fall apart if you didn’t.

The quick clenching and unclenching of your walls around Jihoon’s dick as he fucked you throughout your high drove him crazy and, soon enough, he came undone himself, hot, white ropes of his cum filling you up. The squelch as he fucked his cum into you, the both of you moaning in overstimulation, was nothing short of pornographic.

Jihoon all but collapsed on top of you, humming as you traced your fingernails up and down his back. You took a few minutes to collect yourselves, and you thought he might have fallen asleep, soft dick still inside you, when he lifted himself up with a sigh and slid out of you. You winced at the loss of his warmth. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and said he’d be back in a sec.

When he entered your room again, he was carrying a towel, a tall glass of water, and leftovers from your takeout earlier. He cleaned you off and asked you how you felt, then you chatted as you ate your food. You could pass out at any moment, but it was nice, talking a little bit after the moment you shared instead of falling asleep straight away.

He almost choked on his water when you asked him where he’d learned to talk so dirty - now that he was out of the moment, his cheeks reddened at the thought of everything he’d told you. “It just comes naturally,” he’d said shyly.

“Do you want anything?” he asked when you were done eating.

You kissed him, smiling against his lips. “I’m all good, Hoon. You?”

He mirrored your smile. “All good, too.”

“I just wanna cuddle and sleep now. I’m spent.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” he whispered. He laid down on his back and you followed, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder while you rested your head on his chest. He drew you close to him and pulled the blankets over your intertwined bodies. “Is it creepy if I just stare at you for a little bit?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“But you’re so pretty,” Jihoon pouted.

“I’ll just sleep and pretend I don’t know anything about it.”

“Okay, just don’t panic if you feel a strange but very attractive presence looming over you.”

You snorted. “Noted. Night, Hoon.” You pressed a kiss to his neck and he hummed.

“Night, pretty. Sleep tight.”

When you woke up a few hours later, your room was bathing in the bright yellow glow of the early morning. You and Jihoon had shifted positions in the night and you’d ended up curled up on your side, back to him while he slept on his back, arms sprayed out next to him. It was the feeling of him shifting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist that had awoken you, a sudden warmth engulfing your body that made you feel like you might still be dreaming.

But no, it was all very real. From the man behind you, to the events of the previous night, to the dull but not unpleasant ache you felt between your legs. You sighed contentedly, taking his hand in yours and wrapping it tighter around yourself.

Curious to see if he was awake, you turned around after a few minutes and faced him. He seemed pretty passed out until you pressed a soft kiss to his nose, then another to his cheek. His eyebrows creased for a second and his foot moved against yours. He didn’t open his eyes, but he pursed his lips for a kiss. He wasn’t content with just a peck, however, and you found yourself making out with him first thing in the morning, lips full of sleep and cotton-soft like your pillows.

“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this,” he says after a while, keeping his eyes closed, morning voice sending chills down your spine. “Waking up next to you.”

“You have?”

“I have. I don’t know if I should freak out over this and have a party or just be chill about it,” he said, smiling.

“We can have a party.”

“Really?” Jihoon asked, opening his eyes wide, excited like a kid who was just told they were going to Disneyland.

“Sure,” you giggled. “We can invite all of our friends and celebrate our one-week anniversary or something. Minjeong will probably want to plan it.”

He sighed happily. “I’m holding you to that. We’re celebrating.”

After lazing around in bed for a couple hours, going back and forth between chatting while cuddling and making out, your growling stomachs forced you out of your room and into the kitchen.

You and Jihoon noticed it at the same time. It was hard to miss, after all - a bright pink sheet of A4 paper with hearts and little Cupids everywhere right in the middle of the surface of your fridge, but more importantly, your name and Jihoon’s in big bubble letters with 99% in the middle. You wanted to rip it from the surface of your fridge, but the damage had been done - index pointed at the paper, Jihoon turned to you with an incredulous look on his face. You scratched the back of your neck and looked around the kitchen for a way to escape.

“Y/N, what’s this?” Jihoon asked, amusement laced in his voice.

You tried to find some sort of excuse, but to no avail. “This is just, um- you know, just a, uh, just-” The sound of Jihoon’s cackles interrupted you. You looked at him, unimpressed. “Don’t laugh at me. I was stressing out, okay? I needed something to reassure me.”

Jihoon was grinning wide as he pulled you into a hug, one arm around your waist and one hand on the back of your head. “You’re so adorable,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your hair. You wrapped your arms around his middle and nuzzled your nose against his neck, the comforting scent of his skin making you forget about your embarrassment.

He leaned away slightly and took the paper off of the fridge, smiling down at it. “As cute as this is, you don’t need it. I’ll show you everyday that I’m the perfect man for you, okay?”

You mirrored his smile. “Okay.” Even when your lips found each other, you couldn’t stop smiling, giggles escaping from your lips into his. You only laughed harder when he started pressing small kisses all over your face, making sure to not miss a single spot. He pressed a final one to your forehead before resting his against it, both of you closing your eyes and relishing in each other’s presence.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr (ask to be removed/added!)

#yg treasure #treasure jihoon #treasure smut #park jihoon smut #treasure x reader #park jihoon x reader #treasure fluff #park jihoon fluff #treasure scenarios #park jihoon scenarios

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bro-atz · 2 months

Text

don't cross that line

in which: once you cross that line, there's no going back, and you just happened to cross that line with your best friend, choi jongho.

pair: uni student!jongho/uni student!afab!reader

word count: 7.3k

content: light fluff?, smut, friends to lovers au, suuuuuuper plot heavy, drunken kisses, sober sex, bedroom sex, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: for the lovely @yourlocaljonghoe who asked for a jongho friends to lovers au and bada bing bada boom here it is mwah also may or may not be based off true events also i desperately wanted to include a cuddle scene because of this so you're welcome...? AND HUGE THANKS TO @yunhoszn FOR BETA-ING FOR ME YOU'RE A DOLL BABES MWAH

network: @cromernet

taglist: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @/yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever @sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyunukitty @startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @alexwritesfics apply for the permanent taglist here!

“Listen, all I can really say is that if she wanted to do well on the project, she would’ve pulled her weight,” Jongho grumbled.

You and Jongho were getting lunch in between classes. The two of you usually talked about classes during your break, and that day, you decided to bring up the last group project that you worked on. Jongho had to carry his team while you ended up having a blast with your own, making him all the more salty.

“Yeah, but that’s no reason to make her cry,” you pointed out.

“It’s her fault for not doing the work.”

“Jongho, she was your girlfriend. You didn’t have to be so mean.”

“Was, thank God,” Jongho let out a sigh of relief. “Honestly this whole dating thing is such bullshit— I just want to get my degree and get out of here.”

“Wow. How romantic,” you said sarcastically and rolled your eyes.

“Shut up,” Jongho retorted while throwing a fry at your face. “It’s your fault I was dating her in the first place.”

“I said go on one date with her. No one told you to ask her to be your girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well… Shut up.”

You shrugged, a smug smile appearing on your face as you realized that you won that argument. Jongho took a bite of his burger, annoyance written all over his face as you rubbed your smug smile. Jongho chose to fully ignore you at that point, making you turn to your phone to see that you were going to be late for your next class if you didn’t haul your ass out of there.

“Hey, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight?” you asked him.

“Yeah. See ya,” Jongho responded with a nod and a light wave.

There was a Tuesday night tradition you, Jongho, and a couple other friends from school had— Trivia Night. One of your other friends worked at the bar that hosted the trivia, which is how you came to know of it in the first place.

That being said, even though you went for trivia, you guys never actually played. It was more of an excuse to go drinking in the middle of the week than anything, which meant every Tuesday, you and your friends were drinking way too much and screwing yourselves over for classes the next day.

“Hey, Joong!” you said, your words staring to slur together. “Let’s do a shot together.”

“Yeah! All of us!” your friend, Mingi, added as he hugged you from behind.

“Fine, last round, and then I’m sending you home,” Hongjoong replied while rolling his eyes, a playful smile on his face.

“Good idea. Y/N’s been getting a little handsy with me,” another friend, Yunho, said as he brushed your straying hand off his thigh— you couldn’t help it; you were an affectionate drunk.

The five of you clinked glasses and took your shots, Yunho and Jongho doing it with ease while you and Mingi made faces as the liquor burned your throats.

“Hey, so did you guys look into your classes for next semester?” Jongho asked.

“Not yet,” Yunho shook his head. “I’m guessing you have?”

“Yeah. We have to take the senior colloquium, so why don’t we all try for the same time and recitation? Keep us sane in our last semester of college.”

“Alright, that sounds good,” you giggled and hugged Jongho. “It’ll be fun to have a final class together.”

Mingi settled for nodding while also giggling. Jongho wanted to talk about the matter further, but you and Mingi were just far too gone to have a proper conversation at that point, so he just settled for talking to the group about it when you all were sober.

You were still clinging to Jongho as he sat quietly and thought about classes while sipping his beer, your head on his shoulder, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he was lost deep in thought, and your drunk self thought it was the perfect time to nuzzle your nose in his neck.

“Alright, we’re going home,” Jongho immediately declared.

“What? Why?” you complained as Jongho got out of your embrace and grabbed your arm to put over his shoulder.

“Because you’re done.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because I know. Let’s go home before you yak on the bar again,” Jongho shut you down and started dragging you out of the bar. “Yunho, let me know how much we owe you after you close the tab.”

“Will do!” Yunho responded cheerfully as he watched Jongho drag you away.

“Bye Yuyu, Mango, Joong!” you managed to say before leaving the establishment.

The walk home was atrocious for Jongho. You refused to walk in a straight line and kept trying to pull him towards any bar that you passed, and at some point, Jongho had enough and made you get on his back so he could piggyback you back to your apartment. His patience was wearing thinner as you started playing with his hair and tickling his neck, but you were his best friend, and you were drunk out of your fucking mind, so he was going to be there for you.

By the time Jongho got you home, you were practically falling asleep on his back— he had a very comfy back, not going to lie. He put you down right in front of your door, but instead of reaching for your keys, you slumped onto him, his chest catching you before you went tumbling down.

And then, you blacked out.

You woke up the next morning with a horrible hangover and absolutely no memory of how you got back from the bar in the first place— you remembered Jongho walking you home, but how you ended up in your bed was a complete mystery to you. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind, that you did something you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was, nor did you have the time to ponder it because you had to get your ass out of bed and onto campus.

Your first class was absolute torture, your headache intensifying as the lecture went on and on, and by the time the class was over, you were ready to fall over. You trudged out of the classroom to see your friends waiting for you— they usually waited for you after your Wednesday morning class so that all four of you could grab lunch— Yunho immediately pulling you in for a hug.

“You look like shit,” he commented while hugging you.

“Wow, really? I had no idea,” you responded with heavy sarcasm.

“What the fuck happened to you last night for you to look like this?” Mingi asked.

“I have no fucking clue,” you groaned. “All I remember is leaving the bar…”

But, your statement was drowned out by Mingi as he dramatically grabbed his chest and gasped, “Did you and Jongho go and drink more without us?!”

“Yeah, no. Y/N was too wasted for that,” Jongho shook his head. “I took her home directly.”

“I guess the hangover is only hitting so hard because I’m not as young as I used to be,” you sighed loudly.

“…We’re all in our early twenties. Shut up,” Yunho said while rolling his eyes.

“I dunno man, Jongho acts like an old man a lot,” Mingi said with a slight giggle. “I think he’s in his eighties.”

As the three boys bickered, your mind lingered on Jongho’s words. He took you home directly, and you remembered that, but… How the hell did you get into your apartment? And why was the weird feeling still lingering?

“Hey,” you pulled Jongho out of the argument and to the side, the two tall men still walking without realizing you and Jongho were no longer walking with them. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Jongho agreed, the two of you moving to the side of the hallway.

“Did… Did something happen last night?” you asked. “Because I have this nagging feeling that I did something, but I… I don’t know what.”

“Don’t worry about it, and just sleep it off,” Jongho replied. “Look, I gotta get to class. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Right, yeah, okay…” you trailed off as Jongho left you standing there more confused than ever.

Because what did he mean by “don’t worry about it”? What the fuck did you do last night?

You decided to take matters into your own hands. After you were done with classes for the day, you went straight to the bar because, Goddammit, you needed answers or at least some clarity.

“Joong!” you called loudly the second you got into the bar. “I have a question for you!”

You plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools and looked at the bartender, a determined glint in your eye, but a heavy sigh on your lips.

“Geez, you look like shit,” Hongjoong commented on your appearance the second he stood in front of you.

“That seems to be the general consensus today… Ugh, anyway. Did I do something wrong last night?”

“What?” Hongjoong’s face twisted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Like… Okay, I feel like I did something I shouldn’t have done last night,” you explained. “And I’m trying to figure it out.”

“You were fine here— well, you were shit-faced, and Jongho took you home, and that’s about it,” the bartender recollected. “You didn’t do anything outta pocket.”

“Okay… I still feel like… I’m missing something,” you grumbled to yourself, but the man could still hear you.

“Why don’t you ask Jongho since he walked you home last night?”

“See, I tried doing that, but he told me “don’t worry about it”,” you said, exasperated, while using air quotes. “What the fuck does that mean— What should I not worry about?!”

“I don’t know!” Hongjoong held his arms up as if you were holding him at gunpoint and demanding answers. “The only thing I can say is ask him again, or maybe sleep on it, and it’ll come to you.”

“So helpful,” you couldn’t help but be sarcastic. “Fine, I’ll sleep on it. Thanks for the help, Joong.”

You got off the stool and were about to head for the exit when the bartender asked, “So you’re not going to get a drink?”

“Are you fucking kidding— No! Bye, Joong!”

“Hey, Jongho?”

The two of you were sitting on your couch— Jongho came over after he finished his classes for the day.

“What’s up?”

“Are you sure I didn’t do anything that night?” you asked him, your voice slightly wavering.

“I told you not to worry about it,” he responded with a sigh.

“No, but I’m going to worry about it because I want to know!” you exclaimed. “You being all vague and shit about it just makes me more concerned, and I just need you to tell me for my own sanity.”

Jongho let out yet another sigh. He looked straight at you, his eyes meeting yours. You never realized how pretty his eyes were until you made proper eye contact, and the bigger his eyes got, the prettier they became. Then, you realized that his eyes were not getting bigger, but he was moving closer to you. You leaned backwards, your back hitting the arm rest as he pinned you against it, his light exhale flitting past your cheek.

“You really want to know?” he asked, his voice lower and softer than usual.

“I… I do. I do want to know.”

Shocks ran through your body when he caressed your face lightly, his dainty fingertips rubbing lightly against your ear. He leaned in closer to you, making you squeeze your eyes shut since you assumed that he was going to kiss you. Instead, he whispered in your ear, “You told me you loved me.”

He leaned away, allowing you to look at him with complete and utter shock. You tried to brush off the tension building in the room and between your legs as you responded as light-heartedly as you could, “But I always tell you that I love you.”

“Yes, but…” Jongho placed his hand on your thigh and slowly moved it upwards, his voice dropping even lower. “Last night, you told me that you meant it, that you were in love with me.”

Your jaw dropped. Your eyes darted back and forth, and your heart rate picked up as you tried to make sense of the situation— his words, his actions, and your body’s reactions.

“I— I did?” you whispered.

“Yes, and then,” Jongho’s voice also hushed to a whisper as he leaned close to you once more, his hand going further along your thigh, nearing your crotch. “You kissed me.”

“I… I— I,” you stammered, not a single coherent thought left in your brain.

Your brain only got emptier when you felt his soft lips against yours, your body immediately melting into his comfortable touch. You reciprocated his kiss, your hands unconsciously moving from his shoulders to his neck, bringing you closer to him. Your body lurched towards his when you felt his hand move around to your ass, the man firmly cupping it while his other hand slipped under your shirt and traced the curve of your waist, a soft moan playing on your lips.

“Just admit it,” he said softly with his lips still pressed against yours. “You love me, and I love you, too.”

His teeth got a hold of your lower lip and tugged it upwards as his hand started kneading your breast, making you gasp. Then, his patience started wearing thin. He lifted your shirt and moved your bra up to reveal your breasts, his mouth immediately going right for your nipple, and as he sucked, his hands pulled your pants down to reveal your soaking cunt. You were moaning loudly at that point, Jongho’s name barely rolling off your tongue.

When Jongho slipped his slender fingers into you, your entire body reacted. Your back arched, your toes curled, and your hands ran through his hair and gripped it tightly, his fingers pleasuring you greatly. He kept curling them inside you, searching for your G-spot, and once he found it, you cried loudly and sat up in bed.

In bed?

You looked around. Jongho was nowhere to be found, and you were in bed, awake. What the fuck… was that? You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and shifted in bed, only to feel something wet between your legs. You lifted your duvet to see that you were sitting on clean sheets, but soaking up your panties was your arousal.

Did you seriously just have a sex dream about your best friend?

You were mortified with yourself. For the rest of that week, you avoided Jongho like the plague because every single time you saw him, guilt pricked at your skin, brain, and heart. How could you dream of your best friend like that and then see him in the same way ever again? How were you supposed to act normal around him?

And so, you avoided the shit out of him. Seriously. You made sure to use the other exit from your classroom so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the group walking with you, and you ditched all of your regular spots because, fuck, you had no idea how you were going to be normal around him when you couldn’t even be normal with yourself before sleeping.

Because, truth is, that dream did something to you. Any time Jongho popped into your mind, your cunt would clench, and your body would rush with heat; and if you thought about him at night, you desperately had to do something about it. So, basically, every night, you were touching yourself while thinking about your friend— your best friend. What the fuck was wrong with you?

You were forced to meet with the group on Tuesday— Yunho left you a very long, very angry, very drunk voicemail telling you that if you didn’t show up on Tuesday, he was going to murder you. You doubted him, but when you heard Jongho and Mingi try to hold him back in the voicemail, you decided it wasn’t worth risking it.

You and Mingi were the first ones there, the two of you sitting in awkward silence as Hongjoong served you your drinks.

“Okay, um, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mingi asked after taking a solid sip of his beer.

“W-What do you mean?”

“You’ve been avoiding us all fucking week! Did we do something wrong, or like, do you hate us or—”

“Oh my God, Mingi, no,” you immediately assured the guy. “I wasn’t trying to avoid all of you! Just…”

“Just what?”

“I was avoiding Jongho…”

“What the fuck? Why?” Mingi’s tone went from accusatory to worried and sympathetic, making you relax a little bit.

“Okay, so, uh… The other night… I… I may or may not have had a sex dream about Jongho… And when I woke up, I just… I got super turned on.”

“Wait, was it a wet dream?”

“I don’t know… Can girls even have wet dreams?”

“Well… Sounds like a wet dream to me,” Mingi answered after pondering the idea for a little.

“Great. Either way, I can’t even look at him the same way anymore. Fucking kill me,” you groaned as you laid your head on the bar top.

“Wait, so why’d you even dream about it?”

“I don’t know, man! I’ve been friends with the guy for fucking years, and this is the first time I’ve ever dreamt about him like that— and what’s worse is that he was so fucking good in my dream! Ugh, I wanna die!”

Mingi, who found the whole ideal hysterical, was laughing his ass off as he watched you get more and more mortified by the second.

“Did you ever figure out what happened that night, Y/N?” Hongjoong entered the conversation, making Mingi’s laughter die down a little.

“No,” you sulked. “I never got the chance to ask him again… I asked him in that dream, though.”

That made Mingi laugh all over again. He was clutching his stomach and laughing until he started crying, and he continued to laugh his ass off even when Yunho arrived. Well, he was still laughing, but he was able to wheeze to Yunho, “Dude, listen to this—”

“Mango, shut the fuck up!” you kicked Mingi in the shin, although that did nothing to the guy.

“Y/N had a random sex dream about Jongho!” Mingi barely said before laughing all over again.

“Really?” Yunho asked— he didn’t seem surprised, though.

“Yeah,” you said sadly.

“Well, I guess it makes sense that you’d have a sex dream about him considering what you did,” Yunho pondered out loud.

Mingi stopped laughing, and you, Hongjoong, and Mingi all stared at the tall man, Hongjoong asking, “What the fuck did she do?”

“She kissed him.”

The three of you stared at Yunho with wide eyes and dropped jaws.

“What?!”

“Yeah, Jongho told me about it.”

Your brain, at that point, was erroring out as it tried to recollect the events of that night while Mingi, on the other hand, was so insulted.

“You knew about this and didn’t tell me?!” he asked, feigning injury.

“I thought he told you! What do you want me to do about it?”

“Just check in with me next time! We should share everything with each other, Yunho.”

Yunho and Mingi continued to bicker in the background as you finally, finally, remembered what happened that night.

“Y/N, you’re home,” he said quietly while standing you upright. “Where are your keys?”

“In my pocket," you said with a slight giggle— the jeans you had on actually had front pockets, so you usually stashed your keys in there so you wouldn’t have to wear a purse when you had those jeans on.

With a sigh, Jongho carefully dug into your pocket, his fingers lightly grazing your upper thigh. You couldn’t help but let out a little moan; his action was so minimal and unintentional, but it still felt fucking good. God, you were definitely wasted.

Then, a crazy thought entered your drunken brain. You realized that you needed to thank Jongho for getting you home safe. Granted, it was his job as your best friend (not really, but what are friends for?) to make sure you made it home, but you still had to thank him, right? So, right after Jongho unlocked your door and opened it for you, you grabbed him by the collar, and you thanked him by kissing him.

To be honest, it was the world’s most anti-climactic kiss. Your lips just pressed against his, and that was it. When you moved away, you could see that Jongho was in complete shock, his jaw dropped slightly. His eyes were darting back and forth as he tried to decipher what the fuck you just did. His hands, which were previously on your shoulders, dropped to the side, limp.

That’s when you made the situation worse. You pulled him towards you again and kissed him properly. It was a gentle kiss, your lips enveloping his upper lip, your hand moving from his collar to his neck to make the kiss the slightest bit more sensual. And, to your surprise, you felt his hands on your waist. He reciprocated the kiss, bringing his body closer to yours as he kissed you more passionately. You were practically melting in his arms the longer he kissed you, your brain officially erroring out as you lost yourself in him.

When the chain of kisses ended, you found yourself dazed. You truly didn’t know what to say or do, so you just patted his chest and whispered, “I… Uh… Good night, Jongho…”

Jongho seemed unfazed, as if he wasn’t just making out with you seconds prior. He nodded and patted your head while responding, “Good night, Y/N. Sleep well.”

“Yeah, you too…”

Brain fuzzy, you crashed in your bed, your face still rosy and your lips slightly sore from kissing your best friend. Your best fucking friend.

You buried your face in your hands when you realized what you did, your mind chanting “what the fuck?” over and over again. You felt someone’s hand on your shoulder, but there was no way you were going to be consoled so easily.

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. It was a tiny mistake,” Hongjoong said softly. “We all know that you’re not usually like that.”

“I’m sick and tired of people telling me not to worry about it,” you groaned. “And being drunk is not an excuse… I… What do I do?”

The four of you were silent until Yunho said quietly, “I think you should just talk to him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, just talk it through. You guys are best friends, and I don’t like seeing the two of you avoiding each other.”

“Wait,” your head snapped up. “What do you mean each other? I thought I was avoiding him…”

“Why do you think he’s not here right now?” Yunho pointed out.

You gaped. Trivia was about to start soon, and Jongho was nowhere in sight.

“Where is he?”

All you did was kiss the guy, but you felt the guilt weighing on your shoulders not just because of the kiss but because of everything else you did following the kiss. The guy was your best friend for crying out loud. If it was just the kiss, you would’ve apologized immediately, and all would’ve been well, but the dreams just made it so much harder for you to do anything— even knocking on his apartment door was fucking difficult.

You somehow mustered the courage to do it, and after a couple of seconds, Jongho answered the door. He was wearing his standard class outfit: jeans, a hoodie, and a jean jacket; but he looked so fucking hot, so boyfriend material in them, that your heart actually skipped a beat or two.

“Hey,” Jongho spoke first, pulling you out of your head before you could spiral into a dizzy daydream.

“H-Hey, uh… Can I come in?”

Holding the door open, Jongho invited you in. You walked in hesitantly, awkwardly. You’d been in his apartment so many Goddamn times, so you shouldn’t have been so timid, but your anxiety truly got the better of you.

The two of you ended up taking a seat at his tiny dining table, the man sitting across from you. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as you looked down and tried to spit out something, anything.

“So…” you finally uttered. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Jongho genuinely sounded confused.

“I got really drunk the other night—”

“Y/N, it’s fine. I told you not to worry about it.”

“No! It’s not fine, Jongho,” you shook your head. “I— I came onto you, which was totally not cool of me, and I’m really sorry for that. I don’t like that you’re uncomfortable around me, which is totally valid considering what I did, but like… You’re my best friend, and it’s so weird that we’re avoiding each other like this…”

“Wait… Huh?”

“What?”

“I didn’t think you remembered, which is why I told you to not worry about it,” Jongho explained.

“I mean, I didn’t at first, but then it came rushing back to me like just now at the bar after Yunho told me what I did, and God, I feel awful for doing that to you,” you rambled.

“Why do you feel awful?”

“Because I kissed you without consent…? Isn’t that why you were avoiding me?”

“That… That wasn’t nonconsensual, Y/N…” Jongho started mumbling as the tips of his ears turned red.

“What… Um, what do you mean, Jongho?” you asked in a small voice.

“I mean…”

Jongho pressed his lips together and looked away, his ears turning redder as he ran his fingers through his hair. The guy was embarrassed as fuck, but he still managed to look so attractive that it made your heart, and your cunt, clench hard. He left his hand on the back of his head as he brought his gaze back to you.

“I kissed you back…”

Your jaw dropped slightly. Stammering, you asked, “S-So… What, uh.. What does that mean?”

“That I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I like you. And I was avoiding you because… Well, I didn’t want you to know that I, uh, had feelings… For you…”

Your face erupted into flames. You looked straight down at your lap, your eyes darting back and forth as you tried to make sense of the situation. The two of you were absolutely silent as clouds of embarrassment and slight tension filled the room.

“Wait…” Jongho broke the silence. “So, if you just remembered, then why were you avoiding me?”

“O-Oh… Because…” you forced yourself to get the words out— knowing him, he wouldn’t let you go without a proper explanation, and there was no way you were going to be able to lie to him at that point. Plus, even if you didn’t tell him, Mingi was going to, and it was definitely better that you told him than your dumbass friend.

“Spit it out, Y/N,” Jongho said, his voice breaking you out of your trance.

“Right.. Because I, uh… I had a sex dream about you… And now I can’t… Not see you… In… That… Way…”

And with that, you buried your face in your hands, trying to extinguish the red on your face; you could practically feel steam leaving your ears because of how embarrassed you were.

Jongho, meanwhile, was completely taken aback, but in the best way possible. If you were dreaming about him in that sense, did that mean you liked him back? That the feelings were mutual? That the kiss actually meant something whether you realized it or not?

While you were dying of embarrassment, Jongho hugged you— he thought he was reassuring you, but it only made you more shy and a little turned on feeling the way he hugged you securely to his surprisingly firm yet soft chest (you hugged him all the fucking time, so why you were only noticing it now was a mystery to you). You were so ready to let out a squeal— more like a dying dolphin noise— of embarrassment when you felt him choke down a chuckle and start petting your hair. Goddammit, was he trying to drive you insane?

Luckily, Jongho didn’t push the topic further (yet). The embarrassment slowly died down, and when you felt your heart unclench, you timidly hugged him back, and once you calmed down enough, he let go of you. Then, he fucking made your heart skip a million beats when he brushed your hair out of your face and looked at you with the softest eyes you had ever seen on him. You had seen him with plenty of girlfriends in the past, but this was the first time you had ever seen him display so much affection— and for you, of all people.

At some point, the two of you migrated to his sofa where you were sipping on water on one end of the long sofa and he was sitting in the arm chair next to the sofa like a fucking king. You had to keep your eyes on your water because if you got even the tiniest glimpse of his thighs and the way he was manspreading, you would fully combust.

“Y/N,” Jongho asked, his voice softer than ever.

“Yes!” you sat up attentively. “I-I mean, yeah…?”

You for sure thought Jongho was going to laugh at your actions, but he didn’t. He looked like everything was normal, but his ears were bright red once again.

“So…” he started. “In this dream… What happened?”

You choked on your water. You knew he was going to ask at some point, but you didn’t think he would actually ask you. You set the cup of water down on the coffee table in front of you and sighed softly before explaining the dream to him.

And as you explained your dream to him, Jongho’s face didn’t change in the slightest. He took all of your words in and just kept nodding, making it a little easier for you to tell him. Finally, after you finished retelling your dream— you only told him the dream that started all because God forbid he ever found out about you touching yourself while thinking about him in your dreams— he nodded and said, “Oh, wow… Hopefully, I live up to the way you dream made me out to be… Well, only if you’re okay with that.”

You blinked and froze, the words slowly starting to sink in. Was he asking for consent? Oh my God, did he want to fuck you?!

Without realizing it, you nodded slowly, your body taking over your mind. Then, you whispered, “I’d… I’d like to experience it for real…” giving him the verbal consent that he wanted.

Jongho held out his hand, willing you to hold it. He tugged your hand to make you get up and stand before him, and before you knew it, you were straddling him, your ass pressing against his knees. He was looking up at you with the softest, sparkliest eyes that you’d ever seen on him, making your heart skip a beat but in a way that was different from the way your wet dream version of him did.

With one hand on your back and the other weaving his fingers through your hair, Jongho led your head to meet his, his lips pressing against yours softly. He kissed you slowly, passionately. You were holding onto his shoulders at first, only for you to move your hand to his face and cup his cheek, the kisses deepening, your tongue slipping into his mouth as you felt your body slowly start to heat up.

His hands moved from your hair and back to your thighs, the palms of his hands rubbing against your clothed thighs so slowly and sensually that electricity zapped through all of your nerves. He let out little gasps and groans in between your kisses, his fingers pressing into your thighs when you tugged upwards on his lower lip.

Jongho was a lot more calculative with his actions in real life than in your dreams. His hands trailed from your thighs to around your butt, only to rest on the small of your back, his fingers teasing you by tugging at the waistband of your pants but not actually moving them down. You whined lightly against his lips, your hands gripping the collar of his jean jacket to get him to stop teasing you and start stripping both you and him down.

What sold him on moving faster was not the threat of your grip, but the way you were rolling your hips into him, the slightest movement making the bulge in his pants grow bigger and tighter; and it certainly did not help when you ran your fingers along his neck, one finger lingering on the little mole on his neck.

His intensity increased immediately. His hands went under your thighs and shifted you so that you were straddling only one of his thighs. He pushed down on your waist so that you were fully sitting on his thigh before running his hands up your shirt, his fingers brushing along the sensitive spots on your back.

The two of you only stopped kissing when you forced him to take off his jacket and when he helped you get out of your shirt, his eyes scanning your body as you tossed the shirt to the side.

“W-What? What is it?” you whispered, suddenly self-conscious and slightly reluctant to take your bra off.

“You’re stunning, Y/N,” he breathed out, his hands tracing the curve of your waist.

The compliment made you all sorts of shy all over again, making you bury your face in the nook of his neck. Jongho used that opportunity to unhook your bra, the straps slipping off your shoulders the second the band released. You ended up slipping the bra off, leaving your entire torso exposed. You felt the blush on your face get more intense when his hands and lips roamed your body, the man’s eyelashes fluttering as he left tiny, soft kisses along your skin.

Your hips resumed rolling, your clothed cunt rubbing along his thigh as his hands cupped and clutched your breasts. His hands kneaded your breasts continuously as he left little pink marks along your collarbone, chest, cleavage; and finally, when his mouth found your nipples, his hands moved back to your ass and held the underside of your ass securely as he sucked and nibbled on your tit.

“Jongho!” you cried as you flung your head back. “I— Angh— I—!”

You couldn’t form a single thought the second he started moving the waistband of your pants down. The only thing you could do was forcibly move his head up so that he was forced to look into your eyes, his dark hair covering his sparkling eyes slightly.

“I want you to fuck me already,” you whispered— more like whimpered— while grasping the collar of his shirt.

Wordlessly and effortlessly, Jongho stood up with you in his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around him as he carried you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed gently before starting to slowly remove his own clothes.

It was dark in his room, but thanks to the moonlight and the lights from the city, you were able to see his muscles and toned body reveal themselves as the clothes came off, and when he took off his pants, you saw that his cock, his girthy cock, was impatient and ready to go— you couldn’t even imagine the amount of self-restraint he was using if his cock was that red and angry.

Jongho turned to his nightstand and produced a condom. He tore the packet open and tossed it somewhere before rolling the condom on and getting on the bed next to you.

“C’mere,” he whispered as he laid down.

Soon, you were straddling him once more, your wet cunt hovering above his erect cock. At first, you thought he was going to ask you to ride him, but instead, he pulled your arms down so that you were essentially pinning him down, his lips making contact with yours as your chest pressed against his. His fingers ran through your hair and held the back of your head as he pushed your face closer to his, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth.

You were so distracted by his tongue dancing with yours that you didn’t even realize his hands moved to your ass and his cock, lining up your entrance with the tip before pushing you down slowly, the girth of his cock spreading you so wide that you thought you were going to tear.

You cried against his mouth as he filled you up, your ass pressing against his thighs as he remained still inside you. Your walls clenched tightly around his fat cock, making him sharply inhale in between kisses, a little grunt escaping him shortly thereafter.

After a couple of seconds, you were able to relax your pussy just enough to start moving comfortably, your ass slapping his waist lightly as you moved your waist up and down. You moved slowly and gently at first as you moaned against Jongho’s lips, your chest rubbing against his, your nipples getting more sore by the second.

But, you were going a little too slow for the man underneath you. His hands, still on your ass, held onto you tightly as his waist jerked upwards. Your ass slapped against his waist so hard that the sound echoed in the room, and it felt so fucking good that your lips left Jongho’s so you could cry out in pleasure.

Jongho wanted to hear those cries more, so he continued to ram his waist upwards, and as he did so, he moved your ass so that he was continuously rubbing against your G-spot, making your orgasm arrive way sooner than you expected. You moaned loudly and dropped your head into the nook of his neck as you came, your cunt creaming around his dick.

You were panting heavily as Jongho sat up, his cock still deep inside you. Yet, he didn’t move. You remained seated on his lap as he gave you a second to recover and blink the stars out of your eyes as he moved his lips to your neck, peppering small kisses along your soft skin. His arms wrapped around you, his fingers pressing lightly into your waist and back, his nails tickling you ever so slightly. You rested your arms on his shoulders and let out euphoric sighs as he kissed you all over, leaving the occasional pink mark on your skin as he worked his way around the blank canvas of your body.

He started leaning into you the more he kissed you until he had you pinned to the bed. He was hovering above you when your back settled into the mattress, his hands laid flat right above your shoulders. The two of you just stared at each other, your mouths slightly open as you breathed in unison. Jongho’s hair was covering his eyes slightly, but you could still see them sparkle as he gazed into your eyes. His soft touch brushed against your temple as he moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before cupping your face and kissing your lips lightly, a small smile appearing on his face.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and brought him closer to you, your lips yearning for him to kiss you more deeply, more passionately; and your waist shifted slightly and impatiently as you waited for him to fuck you. The second he locked lips with you again, his hips gyrated into yours, the light slaps of your waist meeting his filling the room.

Jongho’s pace slowly started speeding up, and the intensity of his thrusts increased exponentially as your cunt started taking the shape of his cock. Your insides started heating up to the point where you thought the friction was going to start a fire within you, and every time his waist rammed into yours with a satisfying slap, you let out a gasp mixed with a moan, your head pushing back further into the mattress.

Your legs wrapped around his waist completely, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. Jongho kept gasping your name softly as his orgasm neared, the melodic sound of your name leaving his lips making your body tingle all over and your toes curl. You hugged him even closer to you so that his chest was against yours and his nose was rubbing against the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Jongho gasped as you clenched around him.

You bit your lower lip and nodded, stars reappearing in your vision. Just seeing you bite your lower lip was enough for him. Jongho snapped his hips into yours with such force that made you cum hard, your walls fluttering as your arousal squirted out. Jongho, meanwhile, also came, his cock twitching as his cum filled the condom.

As you recovered from your high, Jongho pulled out and removed the condom before stroking himself a couple more times, ropes of cum decorating your torso as he finished completely on you, a groan of pleasure and relief rumbling in his chest. Then, wordlessly, he got off the bed and disappeared into his apartment.

You were able to push yourself up by the time Jongho returned with towels and water. He handed you the glass, and you took tiny sips of the water as you watched him wipe you down.

“Tell me something,” he said to you. “Was that as good as your dream?”

Jongho looked up at you as he waited for you to respond. So, you cupped his face and led him towards you to leave a lingering kiss on his lips.

“No, it was better.”

You thought you would be waking up from another dream, but no. This time, when you woke up, you woke up to see your best friend’s sleeping face right in front of yours, his soft features relaxed and beautiful. He looked so peaceful, so pretty while sleeping that it kind of made you jealous that he could look like fucking Sleeping Beauty.

You shifted slightly, immediately making the sleeping man hug you closer to his bare chest, his soft skin making you shiver slightly. And when you felt his gentle exhale flit past your ear before he buried his nose in your hair, every single nerve in your body tingled happily.

As Jongho continued to sleep, you observed him, your eyes landing on the little freckle on his neck. You absentmindedly traced your nail along it lightly, tickling him and subsequently waking him up.

“Mmm, good morning,” he uttered, his low morning voice echoing in your ear.

You’d had many sleepovers with him in the past, and you’d heard his morning voice many, many times in the past, but having him talk right into your ear like that was too sexy, too stimulating for you that early in the morning, your heart and cunt fluttering.

“Good morning, Jongho,” you whispered back.

Hugging you even closer, Jongho let out a happy exhale before leaving the faintest of kisses on your temple, making your heart skip and making you realize that you were falling for him.

But he didn’t need to know that. Not yet, anyway.

#broatz #cromernet #ateez #choi jongho #jongho smut #jongho x reader #reader x jongho #ateez jongho #choi jongho ateez #jongho ateez #choi jongho smut #ateez choi jongho

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sweetandscarlet · 1 year

Text

unrequited love | pt 2

notes: merry christmas to everyone who celebrates ! ! here’s my gift from me to you and i’ll be posting a part 3 soon :) pls read pt 1 first if you haven’t already :)

warnings: 18+, stepmom!wanda, stepdaughter!reader, cheating, mommy kink, mentions of cunnilingus, dirty talk, reader radiating major simp energy, age gap (of course). minors DNI!

words: 2.1k

the silence was deafening, the air thick with tension and as wanda retreated slightly from her position next to you, it made you want to curl up in a ball and cry, or better yet have the ground swallow you whole.

regret and embarrassment were all you could feel right now and as it settled deep in the pit of your stomach, you placed the empty wine glass on the table in front of you before moving to stand up.

"wait" wanda broke the silence as she uttered the word, her hand now grasped around your wrist and effectively pulling you back down on your seat. "just.. don't leave, let me- let me think for a moment"

you remained in your seat, waiting ever so patiently for the redhead to eventually shoot you down, to tell you that it will never happen and that she's just going to forget this conversation ever took place.

you looked down at your hands, twiddling your fingers mindlessly and decided you should just beat her to the punch. "let's- can we just forget i said that and go back to watching your tv show?"

whatever wanda was thinking was a mystery. the woman showed no sign of emotion on her face as she sat still, deep in thought.

"please just say something wanda, i can't lose you too"

wanda whipped her head around at that. lose you? you could never lose her.

"honey, i- i just wasn't expecting that. i thought you were talking about someone from uni, not.. not me" she let out a shaky sigh before continuing. "what about kate?"

you lifted your head and turned it to face wanda and god did the look on your face kill her. you looked like a sad, hurt little puppy and all she wanted to do was make it better.

"she's not you, wanda. she's a great person and i enjoy being with her but, the way you make me feel.. i can't stop thinking about you when we're together and i can't keep pretending like i don't want you the way i do"

the redhead trapped her bottom lip between pearly white teeth, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. the words on the tip of her tongue, begging to be spoken. she shouldn't indulge in this, she really shouldn't.

but, the way her heart beat violently in her chest and the aching feeling of wanting the same was mind-hazing and quite frankly too strong to resist.

"and how do you want me?"

you swallowed dryly as the question lingered heavily in the air. instantaneously your tongue darted out to run along your bottom lip, a sigh escaping before letting your head fall into your hands.

you hesitated to answer and wanda could tell as you rose to your feet in frustration, a hand combing through your hair to push away stray strands from your flushed face. "please let's just-"

"how do you want me, y/n?"

you heard the older woman shift behind you and when you turned, she was now standing up, her attention on you never faltering along with an expression on her face you couldn't quite place.

the newfound confidence you had felt moments ago was fading fast and the urge to work up the courage and tell her was harder than anything you'd ever experienced. "i.. i just want you, all of you. your mind, body and soul. to be the reason you wake up with a smile. i want you to make me yours and show me what it's like to be truly cared for"

you heard wanda's breath hitch in the back of her throat at your confession and the green in her eyes faded to something darker than you'd ever seen from her.

"god, this is so stupid," you scoffed. "i hate that every time i'm with kate all i think about is that i wish you were touching me instead of her"

"and how do you want me to touch you?" the older woman's chest was rising heavily now as she took one step closer to you.

you need to step away, tell her you shouldn't do this and you can't. that crossing this line would be a mistake, a huge mistake.

though the aching pulse between your thighs was hard to ignore and the way wanda was looking at you made you want to cave, drop to your knees and show her why you're good enough to be hers.

"wanda, please-"

a delicate hand reached up to rest against the soft skin of your cheek, effectively cutting off your sentence and leaving you spellbound.

"it's okay, malysh," the redhead reassured, her thumb stroking gently against your flushed skin. "you can tell me"

a deep sigh escapes your lips, your eyes flickering to the floor before returning back to the sokovian's piercing eyes. "i want you to do anything you desire," one of your hands flies up to grasp tightly at wanda's wrist, her hand still resting on your cheek. the neediness and desperation you felt were simply too much, you needed her more than words could say. "just.. touch me, please"

wanda hushed you, stepping closer towards you until the gap was nonexistent and all of your senses were invaded by wanda.

the perfume she wore, her hot breath ghosting against your face, the warmth that radiated from her. she was intoxicating and you wanted more, you needed it.

"you have no idea how long i've been thinking about doing this" wanda breathed out, her free hand coming to rest against your other cheek. you watched as her eyes flickered down to your lips and you forced yourself to bite down a whimper at the sight.

before you knew it, soft plump lips crashed into yours and it was like the world came to a standstill. you quickly reciprocated, moving forward until your bodies were flush together and as your hands moved to her lower back to grasp at her desperately, all the guilt left your mind and was quickly replaced with just wanda.

your fingers pulled at the hem of wanda's oversized jumper, reaching under to feel the small of her back. your nails dug in slightly when wanda licked at your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance and you instantly granted it, wanting so badly to feel the warmth of her mouth that she offered to you so easily.

a soft moan from wanda echoed into you that you briskly swallowed, the noise igniting something deep inside you and you couldn't help but surge forward, forcing wanda to move until the back of her legs touched the couch.

you pulled away from the kiss, your lips tingling with anticipation and urgency to feel her on you again. but, you briefly ignored it to push gently against wanda's shoulders until she once again sat down on the sofa.

the redhead watched as you moved to straddle her waist and the animalistic groan that left her lips made the coil that was slowly building inside of you twist with need.

"god, look at you," wanda gasped, her hands landing on your hips, gripping tightly with possessive gratitude at the beauty before her. "you're so perfect"

your hips instinctively ground down against her as her words boomed loudly in your ears.

"that's it, detka" the older woman purred, "so reactive to me"

the blush from before inevitably made its way back to your cheeks as you flushed slightly, embarrassment written on your face. your hand moved soft ginger locks from her neck, making room for your lips to pepper open-mouth kisses on her soft skin before sucking gently.

wanda's mouth fell open at the feeling of your lips against her skin and her hands squeezed even tighter on your hips, the grip eliciting a whimper from you. your hips rolled on their own accord, moving against wanda vigorously as you attempted to soothe the ache that grew rapidly between your thighs. you were wet and needy and all you wanted right now was for wanda to make you feel good.

the sokovian lolled her head back, granting you better access to her neck and as your hands travelled up to her shoulders, one of your hands cupped the back of her neck; your kisses growing in pressure until you were sloppily making out with the smooth skin of the base of her neck. you swirled your tongue before sticking it out to trail up until you reached her sharp jawline, nibbling slightly.

"you're so good with your mouth, baby," wanda's words came out breathy, a strong hint of arousal evident as you continued your work before switching quickly to the other side, exploring more of her exposed skin. "i bet you eat pussy so well"

a moan fell from your plump lips as the filthy words left her mouth and you pulled away for a moment, your chest rising heavily as you attempted to catch your breath. the thought of settling between wanda's thighs and tasting her caused your thighs to flex around her waist.

wanda lifted her head, her gaze on you never faltering as puncturing green eyes bore into you to gauge every single one of your reactions, and when her hands moved from your hips to your ass, needing the flesh softly in her palms, wanda hummed in appreciation as the hand that was around the back of her neck grasped at red locks, tugging on the thick hair slightly.

"wanda i- i want.." your mind reeled at the thought of all the possibilities of what could happen next and as your brain flicked through the scenarios, you couldn't help but falter on your words. "please, i need.."

your mind was quickly turning to mush, the only thing grounding you was the warmth that sat under you and the arm that snaked from your ass, up your back and around to wrap delicate fingers around your throat, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

"go ahead, baby, it's okay," wanda purred, her fingers flexing against the jugular of your neck. "tell mommy what you need"

"fuck i-" you practically moaned, the fist you had on her hair gripped tighter upon hearing the name. "i need you inside of me"

"such a big girl using her words, malysh. but, come my love," wanda released the hold she had on your neck and reached down to tap at your thigh, signalling you to move from your position. "i have better use for your mouth first, and then i promise i'll make you feel so good"

you nodded in response and as you shifted to stand on slightly wobbly legs, you instantly missed the feeling of her so close to you. wanda feigned a pout as you mewled, your hands reaching out to grab at her waist.

wanda was swift with her reaction, her fingers wrapping around your wrists with a short chuckle, stopping you from touching her any further, "patience, y/n. now, be good for me, go to my room and lie down on the bed. can you do that?"

"yes, i- i'm sorry, i'll go right now" you spewed out your words faster than the redhead could process them and before she knew it you were pulling away from her, rounding the couch and heading up the stairs.

the speed of your legs caused your feet to pound against the wooden staircase and wanda smiled at your eagerness. such a good girl, she thought.

as you flung open the wooden door you stopped dead in your tracks, just before the line of actually entering through the doorway. you stared into the dimly lit room, your eyes scanning a neatly made bed; decorated with adorable throw pillows and a couple of picture frames that were littered with pictures of your father and wanda on the bedside tables.

your eyes fell to the makeup desk on your right and they landed on a frame that had a picture of just you and wanda, it almost made your heart flutter, but the feeling quickly faded as the realization dawned on you, the weight of it settling heavily in your chest that you were about to have sex with your father's wife, in his room. their room.

before you could linger any further on the fact, you heard footsteps fading into earshot behind you, swiftly prompting you to take one step forward and effectively breaking the threshold of betrayal.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the trace of wanda's steps faltered and you almost called out to her to ask if she was okay, that was until you picked up on the sound of keys jangling and the indicative sign of your front door opening.

"honey, i'm home! god, you'll not believe the day i've had"

#wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #mcu fanfiction #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff/reader #wanda maximoff x you #stepmom wanda

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potatocitytechnology · 7 months

Text

The Black Cat - N.YT

Kinktober Day 3

Shibari: Shibari, which translates to "decorative tying," is a form of rope bondage that originated in Japan and dates back to the seventeenth-century Edo period. Shibari involves rope made from jute or hemp and is considered an aesthetically pleasing form of BDSM.

INTRO: For the first time in your life you found something that made you feel alive and beautiful. Then you and your boyfriend broke up. Little did you know meeting Yuta would be the best thing for you and your obsession.

GENRES: Smut

PAIRING: reader (afab) x softdom!yuta

WARNINGS: profanity/swearing, rope bondage/shibari, extensive use of ropes, temperature play, blindfolding, gagging, use of a vibrating toy, a little humiliation and degradation, oral (F), crying (F), slight suspension, mentions of full suspension, reader has a rope kink?, softdom!yuta, bdsm themes - overall explicit content - PLEASE, DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS BLOG OR POST IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

WORD COUNT: 5.7k (shit.)

AUTHORS NOTE: Wow, this was not meant to be nearly 6k long... especially since i'm trying to keep all kintober works under 2k (˶ •́◡•̀ ˶) I ended up doing a decent amount of research into shibari and just couldn't keep it short (it needed a backstory!). i really wanting to write for it but i had absolutely no confidence in my ability to describe something so intricate and complicated. However, this is my interpretation of this kink with some other bdsm kinks thrown in to make it interesting. Anyways, enough of my rambling, enjoy! 𖦹 ̫ 𖦹

You met Yuta through a friend of a friend. To be honest you don’t know much about him, even after meeting up with him a few times to discuss your mutual… interests. You met up at normal places, coffee shops mostly, but this time was different. This time you were gonna do what you’d been planning all this time.

The reason you heard of Yuta was because you were talking to your friend about why you keep going back to your ex. One of the main reasons was the sex. And trust, it wasn’t just sex. Your ex, Ethan, was into shibari. Something you never even knew about before you met him, but it quickly became your favourite obsession.

There’s just something about the feeling you get when you're tied up, all pretty and captive. The dopamine that courses through your veins is pure addiction and the stress leaves your body immediately. Ethan made you depend on him even after you’re broken up, it being second nature to call him up when you needed your fix. You hate how much you need it.

Yuta became relevant when your friend said she knew an old friend from Uni who was into shibari, too. She offered to get in contact with her again and ask if you and she could meet up. You were eager to say the least, not having met anyone else with the same kink aside from Ethan and you would do anything to not have to go to him anymore.

Luckily, her friend agreed and that’s when you met up with her. Lucy is a very funny and warm hearted person. She was incredibly happy to help you learn more about rope bondage and introduce you to more people through parties and clubs.

On one of those nights was when you first saw Yuta. However, you could say he saw you first judging by the way he stared at you for a good hour before you locked eyes with him from across the room. It was an instant attraction, your breath catching in your throat as you looked him up and down.

He then walked over to where you and Lucy were talking with some of your new friends, an extra drink appearing in his left hand. His dark hair covered his forehead, dipping just past his brow bone. Eyes twinkling, lips full and plump as they turn into a smile.

When he reaches you and your friends, his gaze linger on you as he introduces himself to everyone, leaving you for last. “Hi, I’m Yuta.” it’s simple the way he says it, but you can’t help but feel there’s something lying beneath it. You pay it no mind, however, introducing yourself to him. People around you start mumbling, even those caught up in… introductions, stop their activities to peer at your group.

You can’t help but to feel shy, their unwanted attention making your eyes cast down as you try to become as unnoticeable as possible. Yuta leans in closer to you, “Don’t mind them.” And that’s when you knew he was the one you wanted to do it with. There was something about him that made you feel like he was safe and knew what he was doing.

On the cab back to Lucy’s place she turns to you as soon as the doors shut. “Oh my god, y/n, you don’t know how big that just was.” her tone is one of disbelief and excitement but you’re absolutely confused. “What do you mean?”

She grabs your wrist, “Yuta Nakamoto, the one who had his eyes glued to you?” you nod your head, unsure why she’s asking you a question about a guy you met two hours ago. How're you supposed to know who he is? Her eyes widened, “shit, I never told you about Yuta.” she sits back in thought and you begin to panic. Well that was ominous, what the fuck is it supposed to mean? Sure doesn’t sound good.

She angles her face back, ready to explain while your mind reels thinking you’ve met someone who’s way past your level of expertise. “Yuta doesn’t take interest in a lot of people.” is all she says before pausing again. A frustrated look passes your face, “Lucy, what the hell is with this guy?” She nods her head.

“Don’t worry, he can’t be bad for you.” She concludes and you give her a very unimpressed look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She lifts her shoulders, as if in some sort of defeat. “Well, I’ll put it like this,” her eyes pierce yours with a slight look of worry passing through them. “Who better to teach you the art of Japanese rope bondage than Yuta Nakamoto?”

After that you were cautious, how could you not be? But when Yuta, somehow, got ahold of your number and invited you out for coffee, you didn’t have it in you to say no. From there you learnt what his intentions were with you. He wanted you to be his next ‘muse’. Yuta said he only picks a select few people to teach and participate in his activities, and he wanted you.

You were hesitant, but your need to be tied surpassed your fear of the unknown. When you were discussing your inexperience with Yuta and his with you, it came up. The fact that you would do almost anything to feel the weight of rope on your skin. Yuta’s reaction was a slow nod, but you saw the look that passed through his irises. It was lust, laced with approval and it made you feel proud.

After these few meetups, you began to be much more confident around Yuta, unafraid to say the things you wanted and him the same with you. On your last meetup, Yuta asked the question you knew was coming; “Do you want to actually do it next time?” You gulp, a lump forming in your throat. “Of course.” You nod, your eyes reassuring him that you want to do this. Besides, you refused to see Ethan for over three weeks while you’ve been talking to Yuta, and you need this. He smiles, his approval making you happy.

That brings you to the present moment. You stand outside the address Yuta gave you to meet at. It seems like some sort of club, you think as you observe the outside of the building. Big, bold letters read on the front, ‘The Black Cat”. Spooky, you think to yourself before double checking the address, pulling your coat closer to your shivering body.

Confirming it is the place, you tame your wildly beating heart by taking in deep breaths as you walk up to the entrance. Your stilettos click on the pavement as you do, and you can’t help but feel overdressed and underdressed at the same time. Not to mention cold, the chilly Autumn air biting at your skin.

You hear the thumping of slow and sensual RnB resonating from within the building as you get closer, eventually only a foot from the door. Thoughts of regret rush through your mind. What the hell are you doing here? This isn’t you.

Before you get the chance to turn and hurry back to your car, a throuple pushes through the doors, startling you, as they giggle and laugh. The two girls sloppily lie kisses on the guys neck and face as they disappear into the night and you’re envious. They look like they’re having pure, carefree fun. You want that too, and right now your key to that life is waiting for you inside this building.

Holding your breath, you push through the doors into the warm and sensual atmosphere of the club. Your eyes are greeted with dark furniture and bodies moving together as everyone minds their own business with the people they’re with. You try not to show your shock, as you walk past couches and tables where people are kissing and groping, making your way to the bar at the far end of the room.

You grasp the surface of the bar with both hands as you roll into it. The air feels heavy in your lungs as the bartender comes over to you. “Need anything, love?” He asks, a heavy English accent lacing his voice. You go to shake your head before someone calls from behind you, “A cosmopolitan for the lady, thanks.”

You turn around, hoping to see Yuta but instead it’s some other guy. His shirt is off, which isn’t surprising, though it’s not the way you’d introduce yourself to someone. He takes a seat beside you as you prop yourself onto the bar stool. “What’re you doing here, pretty?” He asks, a slur in his voice indicating he’s had a lot to drink.

“Waiting for someone.” you reply, a coldness lingering in your tone. He either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care because he keeps talking. “You sure? Don’t see anyone running to claim you.” His voice is suggestive and you start to feel slimy while he eyes you up. You only hum in response, hoping he gets the hint to fuck off.

“Pretty things that don’t get claimed around here, are taken by others.” He says, obviously thinking that you’ll jump into his arms if Yuta doesn’t show up. Luckily, you don’t have to reply as the bartender steps in, “Piss off, Tyler. She’s with Yuta.” his tone is low, like a warning and you begin to wonder just how much power Yuta has within these communities.

“Like I give a fuck if she’s Yuta’s or not.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulder and you grimace, the smell of sweat and alcohol radiating from him. “You should be.” The bartender replies, who’s name tag reads, Jordan.

The guy harassing you, Tyler laughs louder and more obnoxiously. “And where is big bad Yuta, right now, huh?” You scowl, as he shakes around you. You honestly feel like you could punch him at any second.

Thankfully, you won’t have to, as an angry sounding voice emits from behind you and Tyler. “Get your hands off of her, Tyler, or I swear to god you’ll loose them.” It sends shivers up your spine and you smirk as it clearly scares the absolute shit out of Tyler. His arm quickly leaves your shoulders as he whips around, his arms in the air in mock surrender.

“H-Hey man, I was just kidding. No hard feelings.” he stutters, every ounce of his confidence leaving his body as Yuta watches him with stalking eyes. “If you touch her again-” he begins to threaten, but catches the look of fear and uncertainty flash through your eyes and stops himself. He takes a deep breath, “You are never to be anywhere near her again, do you understand?”

Tyler nods and disappears as fast as he appeared. Yuta gives an appreciative nod to Jordan, the bartender, before grabbing your hand. Tingles shoot up your fingertips as he gently tugs you behind him. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.” you nod in response, trailing after him as he leads you down a long, dark hallway beside the bar.

You pass doors, each of which have names on them, like offices. Except you know they’re probably not offices. At least not in the traditional sense. He stops close to the end of the hallway when he pulls out a key. You’ve stopped in front of the door labelled, Yuta.N. He gestures with a smile for you to go in first as he cracks open the door.

You walk in, one hesitant step after the other as he follows you quietly. You’re taking aback when your eyes adjust to the dark atmosphere of the room. The only light being some LED’s scattered around. A four poster bed acts as the centrepiece of the room, and god does it attract your eyes. What catches your attention the most are the hardpoints attached to the posts all around and above the bed, not to mention other odd ones in different corners of the room.

“They’re for suspension.” Yuta says softly from behind you, patiently letting you take in everything you need to. You nod in reply, casting your eyes to the ones above the couch and the bed to the few that’re just in the middle of the room. It’s daunting you can’t lie.

There’s a dark chest that is situated near the couch and you can only imagine what’s inside it. This is some fucking fifty shades of grey shit, you think to yourself, a laugh of disbelief almost leaving your mouth.

“You okay?” He asks, his voice still timid. Truth be told, Yuta's nervous about how you’ll react to everything. He knows you’ve never really delved into more accurate BDSM, and he wants nothing more than for you to want this. He’s been itching to get you into this room, all of his favourite things are in here and now you are too.

“Yeah. It’s just a lot.” You mutter and Yuta nods even though you can’t see him. You turn around and he takes a moment to watch your expressions. “Just remember we’re not doing that tonight,” he lifts a hand to rub a thumb over your cheek and you sigh. “unless you want to.” he adds. “Okay.” you agree.

“Alright then, why don’t we get to the part you’ve been craving then?” He questions, and you nod your head. “y/n I really want you to speak up and talk to me okay?” he asks and your eyes widen. “That might’ve been how you did it with your ex, but for this to work for us, we need to communicate.”

He’s right, with Ethan communication wasn’t really a thought. Verbal conversation didn’t matter as long as he got what he wanted, and you obviously never picked up that that’s not how this is supposed to work. It’s refreshing to be doing this with someone who knows what he's doing and wants to make sure you’re okay with it every step of the way.

Though, it does little to calm you on the fact that Yuta is much more experienced than you. The only person that you ever participated in rope bondage with was Ethan, and you never paired it with suspension. Despite the nerves you have to admit that the thought makes your pussy clench embarrassingly.

“Yes, Yuta. I want you to tie me up.” you try to say with confidence, your eyes holding contact with him. He smiles, relief flooding you. “Perfect. Let’s begin then.” He clasps his hands together, guiding you by your elbow to the centre of the room.

You’ve talked about how he would tie you up for the first time, but he still talks you through it as he begins by pulling a few bunches of hemp rope from the dark chest. He unravels the first bunch, laying it in his palms before gesturing to you. “Take off your clothes, y/n. Did you wear what I told you to?” Your breath hitches, as it actually dawns on you. You’re doing this, and by the look on Yuta’s face, you’re gonna love it.

“Yes, I did.” you reply, surely removing your woollen trench coat. The material falls to the ground, you only being left in the black bondage harness and heels he sent to you. It seems that now you’re without the coat, you’re feeling hot but when it was the only thing covering you, you were cold. It’s strange how your body reacts to him, a practical stranger.

“Good girl.” he purrs, looking you up and down. You shudder at the compliment, satisfied to have pleased him. He steps close to you, picking up the coat and gesturing for you to take of the heels. You do and he walkd to the corner of the room before placing them on the coat and shoe rack. Your eyes track him as he does and when he comes back to stand in front of you, you find yourself wanting to kiss him. Yet, it feels forbidden.

His breath falls on your lips as yours is held in your throat, not wanting to ruin the moment by breathing. “On your knees, now.” is all he says and you’re falling to the ground before the sentence is finished. When your knees meet the hardwood your eyes peer up at him through your lashes. He pulls the rope through his fist, your attention shifting to his hands. They’re large and veiny, and you want them on you but you sit quietly and wait for his request, eager to please.

“We’re gonna start today with something simple and pretty.” he starts fighting the urge to coo at the way you look up at him. “Shibari is a form of decorative tying as you probably know, but it’s also used for pleasure. That’s what we’ll be doing too.” he explains and your head becomes light with the thought of the ropes wrapped around you, all pretty and confined.

Now, my little rope bunny,” he says, a tinge of admiration following the pet name. “I’m going to first start by doing ‘shinju’, which is a traditional breast bondage technique.” he adds nonchalantly, and it sends more wetness to your pussy, a throbbing ache already burying itself deep in your abdomen and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

You nod, a weak ‘uh huh’ leaving your lips. He grins, kneeling down to your level where he starts to gently glide the rope across your skin. An involuntary groan escapes you and Yuta freezes. “Jesus, never had anyone react that quick.” He mutters, more to himself than to you. You nod, deciding whether or not to just say what you want to, in the end you bite the bullet, wanting to see how he reacts. “Was wet before it even touched me.” You let out breathily.

Your eyes close in bliss as he continues, making the first knot. You hear a curse slip from his lips and you internally smile in glee, glad you’re having an impact on him like he does on you. True to the name ‘shinju’ the rope goes around your waist, under your breasts before wrapping around your shoulder and beneath your armpit. Circling around your neck creating a halter. It then goes between your breasts before looping under the rope beneath them. Yuta takes his time with the rope, truly enjoying the art he’s making. Finally, the end of the rope is wrapped the whole way around both of your breasts, forcing them to bulge outwards.

Your nipples perk towards him, his fingertips brushing them making you moan again. God, the feeling of the rope tight on your skin is alike to nothing else. The way you sense you’re constricted is blissful. Yuta watches the way you react like a hawk. No one he’s ever done this with has reacted like you do and it's fascinating.

Goosebumps follow every part of your skin he touches, the rope making you gasp and breathe heavier every time he places it across a bare area. When he ties each knot with careful precision, you can’t help the way you feel like a piece of art.

When he finishes the ‘shinju’, he sits back on his heels, admiring his work. A smile graces his gorgeous face and you can’t help the way your face mirrors his. “How does that feel?” he asks, tugging at the knots to make sure they are all firm but not too constricting.

“Feels good.” You reply, surprising you both as your voice is cracked and strained like you’re already wrecked. He nods, keeping an eye on you. “Do you want to try ‘koutou ushiro te shibari’? It’s just a hands behind the head tie.” You know you’ve hardly gone deep into what Yuta knows, really only skimming the easiest methods from his knowledge. It’s just the way he sounds so confident about these different ties. Ethan was never like that, always unsure of himself and constantly hurting you.

You nod, a small noise of agreement leaving you. He strokes your cheek adoringly and you shift slightly on your knees, the rope around your breasts tightening eliciting a moan from between your lips. Yuta chuckles, “you really are enjoying this aren’t you, bunny?” The pet name causes you to only moan in response.

He stands and walks behind you. “Hands above your head.” He instructs and you obey. He never has to ask twice with you and he loves it. Grabbing your wrists he wraps a new piece of rope around your left one a few times before pulling it tight and doing the same with the other wrist, effectively binding them together.

You grunt as he pulls them firmly before looping around the connective piece of rope between your wrists. He then brings the ends down your spine till it reaches your waist. Wrapping his arms around you he curls it around your waist, making a pretty knot at the back that sits in the curve of your spine.

“There.” he sighs, admiring the way your arms are now restricted, folded towards your neck. You whimper, the soft rope tight around your waist making you wiggle against the delicious pressure. “Ok bunny, how would you feel about being attached to that hardpoint there.” He points to the metal ring hanging above you and you nod, a sound of compliance coming from your chest.

“Alright, stand up then.” He says watching to make sure you’re okay. Your knees wobble, weak from being on your knees for so long but you manage to stand in a stable position. Shibari is beautiful but all beautiful things take time. Yuta probably spent over 30 minutes tying these knots on you, each pretty piece of rope accentuating your body features.

Yuta turns around, going back to the dark chest and pulling out a longer piece of rope. Reaching above you, he loops the rope through the ring. Pulling it down tight, he walks behind you and ties it to your arm tie. He laces it into the knots, focusing on making it museum worthy.

This is part of the reason you love rope bondage. The attention to detail and goal of perfection makes you feel like a art piece to be worshipped, like the Mona Lisa. It’s also very intimate, the time you spend together, both parties enjoying their role. The last aspect you love is the build up to the intimate part. Sometimes it takes hours to tie someone how they want and it’s all so exhilarating.

You gasp as Yuta pulls the rope tight, not quite suspending you but your feet are only just still on the ground. You whine in disappointment, wanting to be fully suspended. Yuta laughs, “there’s gonna be other times, bunny. We can work up to it.” he says, dragging a finger around your waist as he walks to your front.

His fingers catch the rope around your waist, pulling you toward him, effectively lifting your toes from the ground. Your weight pulls down on your arms’ muscles, the burn delicious but not enough to sustain for more than a few seconds. “See.” he whispers into your ear, sending a chill through your body. Yuta’s right, you need to get stronger to be able to hold your own weight comfortably.

“I’m not going to tie your legs today either, I don’t think you could handle it to be honest.” he smirks as your face twists. He turns to go somewhere behind you, not being able to see him you whine out loud. “Be patient, bunny.” he scoffs as you hear what you presume to be a fridge door open and shut. He rummages around with a few different things where you can’t see him before he comes into your vision again.

On a small tray he has an assortment of objects. A dark blindfold sits neatly next to a ball gag and a small bowl of ice cubes. The last object on the tray is something you’ve never seen before, it's not large and sorta egg shaped. Seeing your confusion at the object, Yuta picks it up, showing you closer. “It’s a vibrating egg, this goes into your sweet little pussy.”

You suck in a breath, an innocent ‘oh’ leaving your parted lips and it takes everything in him to not kiss you. That’s what the gag is for. He gets close to you, the ball gag in hand before he brings it to your lips. “Open.” he demands and of course, you comply. He places the ball part in your mouth, tying it behind your head. It’s a comfortable size, you note, especially since you have a rather small mouth.

Next he picks up the blind fold, navigating around your body so he’e behind you again. Bringing it over your eyes, you groan into the gag. He makes sure you can’t see before securing it and you must admit you’ve never been gagged and blinded before. Ethan usually wanted you mouth free and eyes open so you could suck him off. You can tell with Yuta though, that this is more about pleasuring you for him.

Without your sight, everything immediately becomes more sensual. The only thing you can really count on is the hearing, due to your loss of touch as well. You listen closely as he shuffles around you, when suddenly he’s pressed against your back. You can feel all of him on you like this and you can’t help the noise that emits from you, muffled around the gag.

His fingertips dance around your waist, moving to the front of your body before he reaches between your closed legs. “Part them.” he mutters deeply into your ear and you groan, complying instantly. Brushing over your pubic bone you begin to pant around the gag. The increase in the rise and fall of your chest causes the ropes around your breasts to tighten and loosen periodically.

He finally tickles your clit with his fingers, only ghosting over it in a teasing manner. You shiver in his hold, body vibrating and he makes a noise of approval. “Such a good little bunny. So responsive.” he murmurs in your ear, flicking your clit harshly. Almost painfully, but you couldn’t give a fuck, a strangled moan slipping around the gag. Your hips buck, looking for his fingers and the fact you can’t see them, makes you drip.

“Okay, no more teasing. Just know I’m being extra nice since it’s your first time.” He confirms in your ear. Oh, you know he would tease you for hours and not get sick of it. But you’re happy he’s serving it to you on a silver platter this time. You moan out in response, it being the only noise that gets past the gag in your mouth as drool begins to dribble from the corners of your lips.

He runs his fingers through your folds, another moan leaving from deep within your chest. “So wet.” He muses to himself and you begin to blush. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed, bunny.” He’s coos into your ear. “It’s so sexy that I barely have to touch you and you’re ready to go for me.” You’re always ready, is what you want to say, but the gag would make that near impossible.

His fingers dip into your soaking pussy, beginning to slowly pump in and out of you. You can’t help the string of muffled curses that you grumble out, nearly choking on your saliva as you do. “Careful, bunny. As much as I’d love to see you choke, it won’t be on your own accord.” Your eyes roll back at his words, your pussy squeezing around his fingers as he chuckles at the reaction he gets from you.

Suddenly he slips something inside of you and you’re guessing it’s the egg toy. It feels foreign. Smooth and round, snug deep in your pussy. His fingers leave you and you whine, the noise pitiful as he pats your hair soothingly. You hear the sound of sucking and your heart rate increases. “Mhm, you taste good, little bunny.” he moans into your ear as he licks his fingers and you wish more than anything right now, that you could see him.

You wiggle against your ropes, groaning as they tighten on your skin. You hear him laugh at you as you embarrass yourself. It only turns you on more. “Right. Are you ready to see just exactly what this little toy can do?” He asks. You nod in response, thinking he wouldn’t expect you to answer verbally. You were wrong.

He slaps your thigh. Not as hard as you’d like, but hard enough to hurt a little. It makes your back arch against the ropes as you throw your head back, a deep, primal sound emitting from deep within your chest. “Answer me.” he demands and you try your best to be good and answer. A barely understandable ‘yes’ is filtered from your mouth, drool now running down your chin like a stream.

He doesn’t even think before he leans in close to you, using his tongue to lick up the mess you’ve made of yourself. You let out a high pitched moan as your mind races. He’s so fucking dirty and you love it. He gets to the corner of your lips, where he flicks his tongue into your mouth briefly, before pulling away. A noise of disagreement leaves you and he looks on, amused and intrigued by you.

He grips the little remote in his hand, pressing the on button. You immediately react. Your body jolts as the little toy vibrates to life and so it starts. You officially can’t keep the noises in and Yuta only encourages you with his sweet and filthy words.

The feeling of the toy vibrating deep in your pussy is ecstacy. With both your sight and will to string together a sentence evaporated, you are left to only focus on your impending orgasm. Wanting to participate Yuta picks up an almost melted ice cube, running it across your already hardened nipple.

The sting of the cold makes you hiss, the feeling a painful pleasure. He creates a process of making your abused nipple freeze, before defrosting it in his mouth then switching to the other. The sensations make your head loll to the side and Yuta notes that next time he should tie you so that your neck gets more support.

Your toes still on the ground begin to tingle as you feel an orgasm rise in you. Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and Yuta notices. Nipping and pinching at your sensitive nipples brings you to the edge quicker. A final bite to your chest pushing you into your orgasm.

However, Yuta doesn’t turn the toy off. You try to argue your disagreement around the gag as a couple moments pass. When he still makes no move to turn the little buzzing toy off, you wiggle in your restraints. “Shush, bunny. It’s alright, do you trust me.” He mumbles against your chest. Luckily a nod is enough to satisfy him this time as he replies, “Good girl.”

Quickly you’re brought to another orgasm, but before you can cum, Yuta is on his knees sucking your clit between his lips. When the cold touches your sensitive nerves you all but scream into the gag, thrashing as he loops his arms around your thighs to stop you from moving. Definitely tying your legs next time, he thinks to himself.

You cum hard, but he still doesn’t stop. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks as you sob into the gag. “Aww, is my little bunny ready to throw in the towel already?” He asks, a degrading tone in his voice. You shake your head, a muffled ‘no’ crying from your sobbing mouth.

“Just one more for me, bunny. I promise.” You nod your head, only wanting to please him so bad. Even though he makes every nerve in your body burn, he’s a flame you’d gladly walk into every time. “Good girl.”, he praises stroking your thigh adoringly. You’re absolutely perfect for him.

He pops an ice cube in his mouth, ghosting over your poor, swollen clit once again as you sob harder, feeling his breath on you. He attaches his lips around it, a broken moan turning into a weak scream as he places the ice cube directly on your clit. With the egg still vibrating inside you, his lips sucking your clit and the damned ice cube making it throb, you stand absolutely no chance.

You cry out loud as you cum again. At this point a mix of your tears and drool stream down your face and neck, while cum dribbles down your thighs. Yuta wastes none of it, sucking your sticky thighs clean of the substance, caressing your skin as he does.

After a few moments he’s quick to stand up. You hear him behind you before he loosens the rope holding you up, the slack causing your knees to collapse as you try to hold your own weight again. He catches you, arm securely wrapped around your waist as he guides you to the bed where he swiftly removes all the rope from your body.

When he removes your blindfold and gag, you begin to hiccup as your eyes adjust to the dim room before landing on him. He’s looking at you proudly with a hint of worry showing on his features. “You okay, y/n?” he asks softly. You nod, a quiet ‘yeah’ forming as your jaw adjusts to being closed again.

Every muscle in your body burns, and this is the last part of rope bondage you love. The way you can always feel it long after you’re finished. He grabs a damp towel and begins to gently wipe the sweat, cum and drool from your body before you collapse into him. He hugs you close to him and you feel completely safe and satisfied.

“That was amazing.” you sigh into him, and you swear you almost feel him deflate around you. “That’s good, I’m glad you did.” He mumbles into the top of your head.

“Next time we should stretch first though.” you grumble and he laughs, his whole body vibrating and you can’t help but laugh lightly too.

“Okay.” he replies, obeying you for the first time tonight.

#nct smut #kpop smut #nct 127 #kpop scenarios #neohub #nct x reader #yuta nakamoto #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #shibari #ropebondage #bdsmplay #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #potatocitytechnology

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satorhime · 2 years

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˚‧ ✰ ˓ ˖ SECRET-GO-ROUND | ˚｡ nanami kento x female reader ᨀ minors do not interact˓˓WORD COUNT ᨀ 7.8k˓˓ furueru kuchibiru!retelling, college!au, professor!nanami, uni student!reader, bratty!reader, age gap (nanami is in mid/late 30s, reader is in 20s), teacher-student relationships, carnival dates, a sprinkle of fluff 'n' angst, public sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, exhibitionism, praise kink, quickie on a ferris wheel, creampies, money shots, sensei kink, anal play, fingering, degradation + reader is a lil manipulative. @SYNOPSIS ᨀ kento is in a secret relationship with his student, but when he loses a bet to her, he has to take her on their first date in public. @SATORHIME SAID ᨀ this is my first long fic since the spring and i'm so excited for u to read it !! (/ε＼*) i hope u babies enjoy this nasty lil piece i cooked up in my candy store MWAH !!

nanami kento is a hypocrite.

he demands professionalism and punctuality from his students and he does not believe in making mistakes that can be avoided in life. his entire day would be ruined if he walked down a sidewalk and stepped in chewing gum when he could have taken the train, yet he detests tardiness. he grimaces at late assignments, typos in emails, and clucks his tongue at mispronounced words during oral presentations, even though, out of every faculty member and student at the university, he may be the one making the biggest mistake of them all.

it's surprising because nanami conforms to the standard. he studied law because he respected the structure of rules and resonated with upholding order and justice. he takes the moral high ground above his immature colleagues who refuse to grow up even though they're well past the age of thirty. much to nanami's delight, they stopped inviting him out on weekends because he couldn't stop sneering in disgust at their conversation, threatening to report toji, satoru, and suguru after they attempted to coax him into their long running competition of letting their good looks and expensive doctorates seduce starry-eyed students into fucking them for sport; tallying up each other's scores from their game like athletes every monday morning.

but yes, nanami kento is still a hypocrite.

because he is the only one with a student walking around his apartment half-naked right now.

of course, nanami knows better than that. he barely dated through his long years of school, too focused on hanging up degree after degree in his parents’ living room to have time for anything more than a couple of flings and failed dates. and now four years into his tenure, a brilliant professor with a heap of accolades under his designer belt, he fell in love with you, his pretty little student.

he doesn’t know how it happened when the two of you are complete opposites— nanami is a jaded homebody that rejects human interaction and you are a firecracker full of energy in constant need of his attention. it wasn't even supposed to happen, but it's been a downward spiral of forbidden feelings since that one fucking evening you stayed behind after class to discuss your law research paper with him. you'd ended up hitting it off— you found nanami handsome, confident, and easy to talk to. confiding in him about your worries over getting good grades and making your family proud, and somehow that conversation ended with you being fucked over his desk for the first time. in truth, he had expected you to have your fill of a fantasy you wanted to play out and skip onto the next after that, but you didn’t seem to care about any of the other boys who looked at you around campus.

instead, you were satisfied with wriggling your way into his heart, one swish of your plush hips at a time.

you’ve wriggled your way into his home as well, peeking your head curiously into his bedroom now. you find nanami still asleep on his back— his legs tangled in the bamboo sheets and one muscled arm thrown across his handsome features, shielding his eyes from the light beams. your eyes rove over his shirtless form, the morning sun illuminating the chiseled grooves of his toned abs— catching onto the fine dusting of golden hairs over his adonis belt. though he ignores the silly effect he has on you and the other students, your professor is easily the most beautiful man on campus and you could stare at him all day.

but not right now. a pout shapes your lips in disappointment because you rarely see nanami anymore. he’s busier than ever now between classes starting back up at the university, the cases he handles at the firm, and writing his faculty book. today is the first day he’s been free in almost a month, and he plans on sleeping the entire day away? that won’t do.

you tiptoe into the room, crawling onto the pillowy mattress to straddle nanami’s narrow hips. the warm weight rouses him, but his eyes remained shut, a soft groan rumbling behind his ribcage.

“it’s too early for you to be in my lap, little love,” his voice is rough and syrupy with sleep, making you suck your bottom lip into your mouth at the sound of it— but you’re determined not to let his attractiveness ruin your plan for the day. “come on, get off.”

“well, it’s too late for you to still be in bed, damn it,” you huff, peeling his arm away from his face to cup his cheeks. you watch as horizontal lines appear in his forehead, and you hurry to continue, “today is your day off, kento-sensei. i was thinking.. maybe- let’s go out on a date!”

nanami’s café au lait eyes flicker open with a speed that startles you, fixed on your pretty face. you’re wearing his shirt and there’s a pillow mark on your cheek, hair messy from sleep. he feels his chest cave in because there’s nothing he wants more than to take you out to see the world and share your beauty with it. instead, a weary sigh exhales from his nostrils and it sounds like a declination.

“you’re going to say no, aren’t you?”

“yes, you know that we cannot be seen together. what will you do if someone recognizes one of us?”

“we’re a couple, aren’t we? why are you always so worried about someone seeing us. c’mon, kento-sensei- i want to go to the carnival that's in town. we can even wear disguises!” you try reasoning with him melodramatically, but kento simply shakes his head at your antics.

“i’m sorry, love, but there is too much at stake, for the both of us,” nanami says, squeezing your hip in apology. you frown— you hate being coddled by him.

“too much at stake? like your tenure? is that really the most important thing to you?”

“i won’t have this conversation again,” he clips sternly, propping his torso up on one elbow to narrow his sharp eyes at you. “when your classmates start rumors about you fucking me for extra credit, will going out on a date really be worth that? i’m thinking about your reputation, not mine.”

“i don’t want you to think of my reputation, i want you to treat me like your woman,” you roll your eyes. it’s always the same argument. while nanami is content to hide your relationship in shaded alcoves and apartments with the curtains drawn, you want to love him openly. to run errands with him and sit in sunny windows at cute little cafés with him— to not have to lie at sleepovers with your friends when they ask who is the one who is making you so happy.

nanami’s silence is degrading, frustration simmering up in your chest. a deeper frown twists your features as you reach for a fluffy feather pillow, gripping both ends and swinging it down— aiming right for nanami’s head.

he knocks the pillow away easily, unamused. “what are you, an infant?”

“argh, you’re so annoying. fine then, have it your way!” you grumble, but then your big doe eyes glint mischievousness in them. nanami can only watch with a lifted brow as you reach for the buttons of your (his) shirt, unbuttoning them quickly with trembling hands. your heart picks up to thump excitedly as you slip one side of the shirt apart, letting the fabric pool in the crook of your elbow— revealing pebbled nipples to your professor’s confused eyes. you gently cup one of your breasts teasingly, a minx. “let’s do it this way instead.”

“and what way is that? are you trying to bribe me, young lady?” he snorts, but his eyes flicker down to the soft swell of your breasts, the knot in his throat bobbing as he swallows.

you nibble your lip as you sit on your knees between his legs to paw the sheets covering his hips out of the way.

“obviously my bribery’s working since you’re already hard,” you tease in a saccharinely sweet voice. kento prefers sleeping in expensive silks with nothing underneath so your eyes are immediately drawn to the very visible print of his erection. you cup the bulge of his cock gently, palming it against your hand— little cunt pulsing greedily as you feel it twitch under your touch, nanami hissing under his breath.

the pit of his stomach lurches traitorously because he knows what your mushy little brain is up to— whenever he refuses to let you get your way, you’ll be reaching to hold his cock in your hand as if it is a genie that can grant all of your wishes.

one of these days, you will drive him insane.

especially when you’re humming sweetly as if you're folding laundry, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of his pajamas and tugging them down to his ankles. the heavy strain of his cock plops against his abdomen. you grab for it, marveling at how tiny your hand looks compared to it. honestly, nanami’s cock is just so fucking pretty to you that you long to tell all of your girlfriends about it— thick and weighty, a little darker than his body with a dusky tip that leaks so much. maybe you would leave out the detail that without proper preparation, his cock stretches you out painfully. tears and snot and limps in your walk whenever he fucks you.

“oh, it’s leaking,” you simper breathlessly, throat running dry.

“don’t be crass,” he scolds, but you ignore him to stare in wonderment at the way the bulbous head is drooling precum in a steady trickle, smearing over your hand as your thumb rubs against a thick vein. you go slippery, wet between the thighs at the thought of sucking it into your mouth, basking in the way his hips give a little jolt as you touch him. but other than that, he regards you with a flat look. “so what are you planning, hmm? tell me.”

“i want to make a bet with you,” you lower your face until you’re level with his crotch, opening up and lolling your cherry tongue out invitingly. nanami inhales a serrated breath as your soft lips sucks the tip of his cock into your little mouth, sampling his taste.

“how about this?” you continue, fluttering your lashes as you breathe in the masculine scent of his cock. he tastes good, sweet precum bursting over your tastebuds as you pause to swipe your tongue into the slit. you can't even wait, suckling down on the tip greedily, pausing between licks to speak. “if you can keep yourself from cumming until.. eleven ‘o clock then i’ll drop the idea of going on a date, but if you can’t… you have to take me to the street carnival. pretty please?”

he pauses to think about it for the longest, and you roll your eyes, scraping your teeth ever so lightly against the underside of his length to bring his attention back to you, earning a dirty look in reward.

“i’m offended you think i’ll lose,” he snorts, but the way his hips kick as you kitten lick over the slit of his tip makes you smile. you're already winning. “i’m an adult, little darling. i know how to control myself.”

“oh yeah?” you coo, challenging him by tilting your head down with an open mouth, warm and wet on the wide girth of nanami’s cock— drawing him in against hollowed cheeks, lathering him down in saliva that smells like mint and morning coffee. you reel back, hard on the pull up before slurping him back down in a slow mouth fuck.

he tosses his head back with a deep huff from his nostrils, hand twitching on the bed. sometimes you hate how quiet nanami is. on some nights, after he is forced to watch boys flirt with you around campus while you’re dressed in tiny little shorts and slutty little skirts, he’ll toss you on his mattress and fuck filthy lies into you about sitting you on his cock in front of all 40 students in his course and claiming you as his girl, growling in your ear until you’re splashing his sheets with cum and crying into his shoulder because you want it so bad. but during times when you’re being bratty, he never rewards your bad behavior with the praise you work on your knees for.

you briefly glance at the clock on the nightstand.

10:32 AM

“gonna cum yet, nanami-sensei?” you tease on the release, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a wet pop, glistening in your spit. you smile up at him with precum on your teeth, blinking coquettishly as you let his cock plop against his abdomen, flattening your tongue to lick long stripes up and down the length of his cock. “it’s okay if you want to let go of it, i’ll catch every last drop of your cum.”

“i’m not going to fucking cum,” nanami snaps, gritting his jaw. his eyes are narrowed and though he looks unimpressed and obstinate, he frays at the seams. “are you so hungry that you’ll eat my cum? stop this childishness and i’ll make you breakfast then.”

“mm-! that won’t work,” you giggle at his weak attempt, before sinking your mouth back down on his cock, nose buried in the sandy hairs around the base. digging your fingernails into the olive skin at his thighs when the tip of his cock bumps against your fleshy throat, gagging around him as you struggle to swallow around the thickness lodged in your throat. mouth too small to accommodate the size of his fat girth. your cheeks are so cute, too— chubby with the strain, but you’re determined, even as thick precum drools down the back of your tongue and you choke, gurgling and flexing your tongue to greedily swallow it down.

he’s always sensitive in the morning, waking up with his stiff erection pressed shamefully between your ass cheeks so you know exactly how to work him, a sweltering suction around his leaking cock. burning hot pleasure right into the pit of his gut. his fingers fist in the sheets and he looks so fucking ruined in the morning sun with his jaw slacked, neck blotchy and bursting with veins from the strain of holding off his grunts of pleasure— holding off his cum too. “j-jesus fuck, love. that’s it-”

this time, nanami is the one desperately searching for the red glare of the alarm clock, eyes wildly reading the numbers.

10:47 AM

thirteen minutes left. if he can just—

“don’t pretend you don’t feel good, kento-sensei,” you giggle as you reel back to breathe, swirling your tongue over the tip of his sticky cock. he grunts, his hips jolting desperately. “i know all of your weak spots, after all.”

the law professor bristles, panting as he glares down at you.

“don’t look at me like that… i just wanna make you feel good,” your aggressiveness isn't new to him. though usually you’re gooey in the head, on your back with legs splayed, letting him do whatever he wants to you— there are times like right now when you’re dipping further down to suck on his balls, weighty and full with cum, sending nanami’s hips into a frenzy. his hard cock slaps against your forehead as his hips jerk up, but you wrap your hand around it— pumping him quickly.

“fuck, i…”

“duh-oh, i’m running oush of time,” you mumble as you suck greedily on one of his balls, watching the clock.

10:57 AM

“what are you-”

“you liked it when i did this, right sensei?” you hum, melodic voice like a siren on a shipwrecked shore, luring him in. devilish mouth smiling sweet as you’re committing sin, lowering further to play your dirty tricks on him— spreading one of nanami’s ass cheeks apart to swirl your tongue around the rim of his hole at the same time you squeeze his cock painfully.

“d-don’t, darling. fuck… you’re going to make me-”

his reaction is immediate, a big fist twisting in your hair to shove your head away from him but it’s too late. above you, nanami punches out a grunt that sounds ruined, the spongy wetness of your tongue teasing at his puckered hole combined with your firm hand pumping his cock in a steady rhythm is too much. he loses the bet with the back of his head shoved into the pillow, thighs twitching from the shocks of pleasure as long ropes of cum splashes onto your face in white strings, dripping wet down your cheeks.

when he shoves your head away, you sit back on your heels— beaming up at him with the prettiest smile of triumph, covered in his cum.

“that’s that,” you tease, “should i wear my white or pink dress?”

“we’re only staying for a short while,” nanami announces with an exasperated sigh, even as he fastens the neon pink unlimited rides! armband around your wrist. when he finishes, you beam and hook your hand into the crook of his arm— scoping out the attractions. “where do you want to go first?”

the last day of the traveling carnival is crowded. an annual late summer tradition in your city, it never fails to draw out the numbers on weekends. lovesick couples share kisses, dining on overpriced treats. exhausted families push around strollers with wailing babies inside of them while teenagers shove each other in the queues for thrill rides, pop music blasting through the speakers. it’s a risk, the kind of location nanami would have avoided for a first official date with his student, for fuck’s sake, but he hates seeing your looks of disappointment.

he much prefers the way you look right now— drunk on the scent of buttery popcorn and sugary cotton candy— a devastating figment of his dreams, dressed in a little white chiffon sundress that whirls around your thighs with each movement. your eyes twinkling in glee behind the shades perched on your nose at the colorful tents, fast rides, and rows of sideshows.

“let’s try out one of the sideshows first?” you suggest, pointing excitedly to the striped canopy stalls lined up on one row of the carnival, adorable prizes sitting on shelves behind carnies enticing passersby to try their luck at strength tests, shooting games, hook-a-duck and skeeball for cheap prices. “you could use a win after this morning.”

“does that mouth of yours ever know how to be quiet?” nanami wonders wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose out of habit as rosy flush creeps above the collar of his shirt. “lead the way if you’re finished making fun of me.”

rolling your eyes, you tug him by the arm over to a shooting range. colorful balloons line up in many neat rows. the carnie behind the stall brightens up at new victims, his smile missing several teeth as he gestures to the game— holding up a handful of sharp darts in invitation.

“good evenin’, good evenin’ to the lovely couple! interested in trying your luck in pop-a-balloon? all ya hafta do is aim and throw. hitting five red ones in a row wins the largest prizes,” he markets, “yer fella looks like he’s got a good arm on ‘em too. whaddya say?”

“it’s an obvious scam they’re running. the red ones are the smallest,” kento points out under his breath, but you shoot a glare at him, nudging him forward. he sighs, reaching into the back pocket of his shorts to retrieve his wallet, slapping a crisp ten on the wooden counter. “fine.”

“good choice! take these darts ‘n’ give it yer best shot, buddy,” the carnie pockets the bill, handing the darts to nanami and stepping safely out of the way.

“alright, which one do you want, darling?”

“the big one,” you grin.

“of course you do,” the male purses his lips, folding up the sleeves of his shirt before he takes the darts. it’s attractive the way his forehead creases, concentration narrowing his eyes behind his green tinted sunglasses. he knows games like this are rigged, but that doesn’t stop him from carefully analyzing the balloons because you want the prize and he’ll do anything for you. it’s easy math, calculating the distance between his stance and the target wall— stretching a visual line across the tiny red balloons.

the first dart strikes out, bursting the balloon with a startling pop. you clap your hands happily in support, a greedy pang of want twinging in your lower belly as you watch his biceps ripple with the movement as the rest of the balloons bursts easily until he's out of darts— game over.

“congrats, man, y’ didn’t embarrass yer girl,” the carnie jokes, but you can tell he isn’t happy about the quick and easy win. “which one d’ you want, miss? top’s yours to choose from.”

“that one,” your eyes sparkle, pointing to the large pompompurin prize in that adorable little suit. you’re handed the fat plush that dwarfs your frame, squeezing it to your body in delight. “it looks like you, nanamin!”

“oh? should i be worried about the competition?”

“please, no one can ever replace you.”

you say it with a teasing smile, but nanami hates the way his heart stutters, even as his mind screams that he isn’t supposed to be here with you, entertaining your girlish affections, in love with you beyond repair.

but as the sun relaxes the sky into a dreamsicle orange, so does the weight on nanami’s shoulders. he still keeps his eyes sharp for familiar bodies, but he finds it harder to resist your energy— letting you take his hand to drag him around the rest of the carnival grounds to various attractions. spending his money on sticky cotton candy, powdery funnel cake and customized couple items. forcing him to accompany you on your favorite rides, too— rollercoasters and carousels and tilt-a-whirls until the two of you are dizzy and windswept.

“you looked relaxed,” you hum over the noise of thrill ride chains clanking together and carefree laughter in the background, tucked comfortably under kento’s arm as the two of you wait behind three other couples in the queue for the ferris wheel— your favorite and final stop before the date finally ends.

“i don’t have to work today,” he replies dryly, but his thin lips quirk up as if he wants to smile.

“that’s the only reason? ken, you’re so boring.”

you really have a terrible habit of not letting him finish his sentences, he thinks.

“wah, i wish we could do this everyday!” you cheer, cuddled up against nanami’s warm side as the ferris wheel begins to move, ascending higher into the sky as the large capsules sway in the breeze calmly.

nanami simply nods in reply as he stares out of the window of the enclosed gondola, the giant pompompurin he won for you balanced comically on one of his knees. the view is breathtaking from up here. people strolling around the carnival grow smaller, the winking lights on top of the tents nothing more than tiny fireflies in the late summer night from this height. so high above the world who would judge you, it’s easy to forget decorum and feel like a normal couple.

it even has kento completely at ease, sighing peacefully and believing that nothing could ruin the peaceful moment of bliss between the two of you up here—

until the ride jeers and jolts to a hard stop, swinging the capsules violently.

you hear a crackling noise from the speaker attached to one of the beams.

“attention all ride passengers!” the teenager operating the ride speaks into the staticky intercom with mildly contained panic. “we’re experiencing a malfunction and will have the ride working after a short while. please remain seated and do not open your capsule door. thank you!”

“just grand,” nanami purses his lips in disapproval before his eyes slide over to you, reaching over to draw you closer. “are you alright?”

but where he expects to be met with your apprehension, your answering smile is a twinkling constellation of giddiness and opportunity. after all, how could you be afraid when you’re stuck at the top of the world with the most attractive man born into it? looking at him right now means thinking of nothing else anyway. he looks good out of a suit with the outdoors on him— hair mussed up and sweat staining his pristine white linen shirt. you think about earlier today when you whined at him about lacking romance until he agreed to eat cotton candy from your fingertips, melted sugar crusted against your digits as nanami licked and suckled obscenely on purpose until your panties were embarrassingly damp.

knowing this date out in the open with him will likely be your last, you plan on making the best of it until the very end.

“h-hey, sensei?” you call for him, warmth blooming over your cheeks at the sudden idea pushing to the forefront of your mind.

“mhm?”

“didn’t seeing me in this pretty dress today make you want to fuck me?”

“don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he replies flippantly, but you don’t miss the sharp intake of breath that rattles through the quiet gondola that betrays his answer. you looked like an angel of sin the entire day in your little white dress. how many times did that fucking hem flutter above your thighs in the wind as you carelessly bounced around, giving him a flash of your cotton panties? how many times did he have to yank it down before another man got a look at his girl— “i hardly noticed it.”

“i could show you now,” you hum softly, never satiated. you rest your chin on his shoulder, fingers playing along the top of his thigh. “you could fuck me right here and no one would know. we’ll be here for a while…”

“you force me to come on this date with you during my day off, now you want sex too? you’ve been hanging around frat boys too much,” he deadpans, but his cock twitches in traitorous interest against his inner thigh at your nasty little proposition. it’s hardly appropriate and he shouldn’t allow you to crawl onto your knees and plop right into his lap, but nanami can never find the willpower to deny you whenever you desire something that he can provide. “need i remind you that we’re in public? what are you-”

“don’t be mean to me, sensei. i didn’t get to cum this morning, you know,” you whine childishly with a blubbery pout to goad him. you’ve always been insatiable and greedy, the simple thought of being stuck at the top of a ferris wheel with nothing else to do but wait to be rescued swirling a lusted ache into your cunt for him, needy and pulsing.

“if we would’ve stayed home per my suggestion, i would’ve taken care of this here,” he tuts, his voice clipped and hard as he gestures to the way you’re already squirming against his thigh. “you just can’t wait for me, can you? even after class, you always have to sit on my cock before we get home. what am i going to do with you?”

“i-i can’t help it,” you bundle the hem of your dress against your hips as you lean back, the center of your panties soaked and sticky wet between your puffy lips. he can’t see the damp patch waiting there for him, but he can feel it. wetting the cloth of his shorts down where you squirm and wriggle. the lights on the beams of the ferris wheel rotate into the gondola, flashing neon rainbows across your and nanami’s features in the quiet dark, allowing you to see the way his honey brown eyes darken to black.

“stop thinking so much for once and pass the time with me,” you continue, purring the words against his neck. you move closer, your breasts pressed up against the damp linen of his shirt as you run your tongue over the sharp cut of his jawline, inhaling the spicy scent of his sweat and tom ford aftershave. your next move is the last bit of convincing he needs, fingers slipping between the gap of your bodies to palm the fat line of his growing erection. “y-you’ll fuck me, right nanami?”

nanami grits his teeth as he feels his cock thicken in arousal, staving off a groan. his fingertips itch with the desire to touch you. he doesn’t know what has the biggest affect on him right now— the high altitude, the memory of your cute little throat struggling to swallow around him first thing in the morning, or just you in general. wearing a sundress shorter than some of his work shirts and begging him to fuck you on a ferris wheel.

“come here, pretty little thing,” nanami murmurs huskily, squishing his big fingers into your soft cheeks to draw your lips to his for a kiss. he never fails to make stars bust behind your eyelids when he touches you— bold and bratty until you’ve gotten your way and he’s in the lead, letting you squirm on his lap. your cunt gushes at the kiss alone, warm and wet and forbidden as nanami tongues over your bottom lip— sucking it into his mouth, kissing you to a swell until you open for him obediently and he’s fully in control. searing licks of his tongue as he explores you.

the kiss is sloppy, just how you like it. challenging a clean-cut man like nanami who lives by the book into swallowing your soft whines and moans, into swapping strings of bubbly spit that tastes like cotton candy and caramel apples.

“you’re so messy, even in public,” he chides, breaking the kiss to give you room to breathe but you chase it, nipping his upper lip with your teeth hard, nanami grunting low in his chest before you soothe the sting with your tongue. he pinches your chin between his fingers, twisting your head to the side to redirect his mouth to your neck. he knows better, but you cloud his judgment— murk up the waters of his mind as he fastens his lips onto a spot against your neck, suckling at the skin until the capillaries burst and his mark blooms slow.

“o-oh-”

“you’re even messier down here, aren’t you? filthy girl, how long have you been this wet?” he groans lecherously, fitting a hand between your spread legs and his thigh so he can twist the front of your ruined cotton panties against his fist, drawing them upwards so the damp fabric wedges painfully against the seam of your unused cunt.

“that h-hurts, ken,” you whine, but it whispers off into a blissful sigh as nanami shifts the fabric, rubbing raw against your slit. with his free hand, he tugs the sweetheart neckline of your dress to press wet kisses over your chest with a hum.

“i’ve got you, darling. i’ll take care of it- make it all better,” he promises, and just as he’s about to jerk your panties to the side and put his fingers on your pussy, the intercom crackles in a tinny screech—

the two of you startle, chests heaving breathlessly and hearts thumping tandemly in erratic rhythms.

“attention all ride passengers,” the voice is unfamiliar, clearing their throats before continuing, “the ride will be back in working condition in an estimate of thirty minutes. thank you for your patience and we apologize for the inconvenience.”

thirty minutes.

“n-nanami-sensei, h-hurry up! please, before-” you whisper out in a frantic breath, fumbling for the loops of his belt to unbuckle it.

“hush, i promised i would take care of it,” he grunts, as unhurried as ever as he swoops his head down and fastens his lips around your nipple over the material of your sundress, suckling the bud until he feels it peak against his tongue, until the fabric is soaked in his spit and your pussy clenches hungrily in need. he nibbles at the bud, torturing you— pinching it between his teeth, bringing irritated tears to your eyes at the little twinges of pain. “alright now. i want you to take my cock out and rub it through your messy little slit, can you do that for me?”

“can i sit on it?” you flutter your glistening eyelashes at him as he reels back, leaning against the bench of the capsule, letting you twiddle the buttons of his shirt apart first— revealing golden skin and the ripples of his washboard abs before you continue, sliding the zipper down on his shorts. kento’s cock is fully hard when you draw it against your palm, warm and twitching when you squeeze it experimentally.

“what did i teach you? haste is the enemy of quality.”

“god, y… you’re so annoying,” the gondola is too dark to see, but you know what it looks like from memory alone. his cock bounces between the two of you, slapping against your belly button, the mushroom tip leaking foggy droplets down the thick shaft. your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth as you wrap your fingers around it firmly, spreading tacky precum as you pump him slowly.

he tugs your panties to one side as you lift up just a little, letting nanami’s cock bend along the line of his thigh— long and hard under your ass when you sit down against it. he knows that the two of you are running out of time; he can’t tease you like he does at home or in his office after hours, boring you with philosophical quotes or quizzing you with topics you don’t pay attention to in his class and forcing you to sit on his cock for hours when you answer incorrectly. drool floods your mouth at the delicious friction as you hump your pussy over his cock desperately, wetting him down in strings of slick; your puffy clit rubbing against the flared head, but it's not enough.

“n-nanami-sensei, c-c’mon, this isn’t fair-” you pant into the crook of his neck, oversensitive and strung out, swiveling your hips in a slow circle, grinding your clit down hard until it feels sore.

“what isn’t fair, little darling?” nanami chuckles in amusement, but he sounds like ruination, voice gravel on stone. he slips the straps of your sundress from your shoulders to press kisses to your heated skin. he forces the fabric down further, just until one of your nipples are exposed and he can wrap his lips around the bare skin, suckling it against his tongue. he drags his cock away from your folds, slapping it hard against the coarse curls at your mound. “you think i'm unfair because you want my cock inside you around all of these people and i won't give it to you? when will you ever learn propriety, hmm?”

“n-not ‘til you fuck it into me, kento-sensei,” is your petulant response, gripping the skirt of your sundress dress until the skin of your knuckles feel taut. it’s unfair that he makes fun of how much you want him, it's unfair that he has all of that cock but he won't let you fuck yourself on it, it's unfair but you let it happen— wriggling in anticipation, letting him slap the tip of his cock against your clit and tease you out as you moan for it dumbly. “wanna sit on it your cock so i can learn something!”

“why do you think you deserve it?”

the effect he has on you is dangerous. maybe you’re naïve and reckless with your heart, the dewy-eyed college girl helplessly in love with her professor— but no one has ever made you feel the way that he does, not the shitty frat boys or snobby trust fund babies that chase your cute smile and pretty skirts at parties and in hallways. while he thinks you’re using him to fulfill a fantasy, you’re simply unable to convey your feelings into actual words. it’s more than just wanting to fuck him because you’re good at it and it feels good. instead, it’s because when his cock is stretching you out, the two of you joined in the most intimate way possible, it’s forbidden words left unsaid. you deserve him because you lo—

“buh-..’cause you always gimme what i want?” is how you choose to respond instead.

“incorrect answer as always, brat,” he scolds, reaching around to deliver a punishing slap to your ass, making you cough out a yelp. “sit on me, even though you don’t deserve it.”

oh.

you glance out of the window behind kento’s head. it’s too dark to see inside of the other stranded gondolas below you, but you wonder if they can see you. if the other couples are watching as you lean up on sore knees, smearing his precum along your folds as his cock swipes through your slit until the fat head catches on your entrance and you hear him hiss.

your heart thuds painfully against your ribs, the familiar feeling of delicious fear at the sheer size of your professor’s cock setting an ache in your belly. you widen your thighs, your knees scratching against the rough material of the bench as you reach down to spread one of side of your folds apart, opening yourself for him. but as you plan to sink down slowly, carefully, the ferris wheel suddenly rocks, spearing you down too fucking quick on the blunt head of his cock—

“w-wait, k-kento-sensei-!” your abrupt shriek rings out in the silence as you scramble desperately to wrap your arms around his neck for support. glassy tears spring hot to the corner of your eyes, the stretch making your sore cunt flutter around him tight and desperate as your knees try to snap shut against his hips uselessly. you try to hold yourself from sliding down on him any further until you're ready for it, but you’re so fucking wet that your pussy greedily sucks in the rest of his inches and your thighs give up against the strain, weight forcing you down to sit flush against his lap— jutting his cock up against your womb with a deep twinge.

“take it easy, darling girl,” he bites out behind clenched teeth as his head tosses back against the window, his groan vibrating against your bodies. fingers digging deep into the soft skin of your hips at the intrusion, the sensation of your pussy sinking down on his cock is too much— breaking him out into a cold sweat, feverish. you're so small, tightening around him until he feels like choking. his calloused hand tries to rub soothingly over the soft dimples of your lower back, but he’s just as fucked out as you.

“i-i can’t-!” you cry out, trembling in his arms and clinging to him hopelessly, snot bubbling in your nose and mascara staining your cheeks. you shift experimentally and you feel your stomach lurch with a wet gasp punching from your lips, but there’s no real time to get used to the stretch of his cock inside of you and you know it— not when the mechanics are close to fixing up the broken ride. “n-nanami-”

“you can do it, love,” he coos, kissing the temple of your sweaty forehead with the tender care you deserve for trying to accommodate his fat girth. he rewards you by fanning his hand over your belly, thumb dropping upside down to rub through your folds, fucking it over your swollen clit in squishy circles. “show me how well this pussy can take me.”

you nod dumbly, the pleasure singeing your nerves raw as you shakily lift out of his lap before sinking again, his cock disappearing against your gummy walls with a thick push that squelches lewdly on the draw in. it’s overwhelming and so fucking good, your hand slapping against the window behind his head for leverage— leaving a print in the condensation. “eugh- f-fuck, kento-”

there’s a different kind of stroke to a cock when you’re not allowed to have it. sweet punishment for your sins because you aren’t supposed to be here with your professor, fucking him at all, let alone in public. forced to settle for short, deep drops of your hips instead of bouncing high and spreading it out— keeping him snug against your cervix in order not to rock the capsule too much. it’s messy and your cunt loves it, slick spreading along your thighs, gushing down the length of nanami’s cock.

“ah, look at you. you love this, don’t you? you wish someone would see. it’s like you want to get caught so everyone will know who this cunt makes the sweetest sounds for,” nanami rasps out, thumbing your clit faster now, leaving his fingerprints under the hood of the sore nub. he widens his stance, spreading his feet apart to force you to sink deeper into his lap— hard jostles, your ass cheeks slapping down lewdly against his balls. your back arches so prettily for him that he can’t help but grasp one of your tits into his hand, bringing it to his mouth to taste the salty skin on his tongue.

“i-i love it-! i love it s’much, kento-sensei. love you s‘much-!” you sob loudly, burning with the affection his cock fucks against your nerves. you’re drunk on the pleasure, too much dopamine twinkling in your brain to realize the weight of your confession, but kento does. heart sputtering and swells inside his chest cavity because you sound like you mean it— cock thickening inside of you.

“fuck- fucking love you too, my darling girl.”

the desperate rhythm of your fucking upsets the gondola, rocking it slightly, and kento loses ground— his teeth catching your nipple in a pinch that makes you fuck down on him harder. the pain combined with the pleasure of his cock dragging in and out of your cunt dizzyingly sweet. he soothes over the sting with a gentle suck of his mouth and you squirm with a whine, gushing around him even more, your sticky cream foaming around the base of his cock in a squishy ring that aids your slide.

“we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience, folks. the ride appears to be fully operational now and we will begin unloading passengers now!”

the intercom announces loudly as the engine of the ride cranks up on the ground, the flashing lights shining into the gondola once again. you don’t even pay attention to the bright beams, eyes rolled back and and head too full of cum to notice so kento quickly clamps his hand over the back of your head and forces it down against his shoulder to hide your silhouette in the window.

“no- don’t wan’ get off yet. i-i’m so close… wanna cum on your cock so bad!”

“what are you going to do if we reach the bottom of the ferris wheel doing this?” he pants, his hands pressing searing bruises into the curve of your hips as he lifts you effortlessly up and down his cock, breaching your soaked cunt with powerful, deep fucks that leaves you ruined.

“a-are you scared of getting caught, nanami-sensei?” you whine, shifting against his strong hold, drooling against his shoulder as you moan loudly. nanami answers by bucking his hips off the bench hard, letting the devastating drops of your hips be met with hard snaps of his own.

“hush, filthy girl. you’re so fucking loud,” he hisses, his hand leaving your hip to stuff three fingers into your mouth, clacking against your teeth with the movement. “suck them or do you want someone to hear us and stop you from cumming?”

by the time the ferris wheel begins to descend, your mind is lost to the pleasure nanami fucks into your pussy. your exhausted fingers rub furiously at your puffy clit as you bounce frantically on your professor’s drenched cock, letting the fat cockhead bully that spongy sweet spot nestled along your walls repeatedly until you’re wailing even louder, the sound barely muffled by nanami’s thick fingers.

it’s so fucking good that neither one of you care about getting caught any longer, consequences be damned. the musky scent of sex permeates the tight air, the capsule rocks violently with your sloppy movements. and how could you care about anything else when nanami grips your hair and hisses into your ear, once and for all, “cum for me, you little slut,”

“uhuh, k-kento-sensei ‘m gonna cum for y-you-! jus’ for you-!” you promise with a cry, swallowing his cock down with greedy bounces of your cunt to his lap— thighs trembling violently, eyes crossing up, blurring your vision with tears as you fuck lewdly. your nails scratch down the window desperately as kento takes over and rubs his fingers through your slit, hooking his middle finger into your cunt alongside his cock, stretching you out even further while his thumb is back to rubbing into your clit again. sharp shocks of pleasure in that final movement that burns through your veins, throwing you over the edge.

“give me one, little love- give me one right here, let me feel you-”

you’re wailing too fucking loud, but he doesn’t dare stop you, not when you’re this breathtaking. trembling in his lap as the knot in your lower belly bursts wide open, knees clacking against his hips as your orgasm curls your toes, washing you down with white hot pleasure. you cling to nanami’s neck desperately, cunt expanding as overstimulation sets in and you splash juices against his shorts and the hem of your sundress with so much force that his cock slips out with a wet squelch, until you quickly push it back in with a gasp.

“h-hah, oh god-!” you squeal, writhing all over his lap, cunt still pulsing and clamping around him. kento swears and you know that he’s close too, doing your best to give him a few more weak drops of your cunt on his cock. his muscles tighten and he cums with a long guttural groan that he buries against the sweaty skin of your neck, spurting thick globs of warm seed right up against your womb just as your gondola reaches the bottom of the ferris wheel—

“f-fuck, darling. get off- get the fuck up right now-”

you quickly climb off of kento’s lap on gummy legs, his cum pooling against your cotton panties and trickling messily down your inner thigh. you wipe your thighs on the hem of your ruined dress as kento calmly tucks his dripping cock back into his shorts before buttoning his wrinkled shirt up with an air of easy sophistication, as if he just didn’t fuck his student dirty on a ferris wheel, as if your squirt isn't soaked into his shorts and dripping onto his shoes.

“come here, you,” he beckons, reaching for you to tenderly wipe your tear stained cheeks with his shirt, clearing up the smudges of mascara. “there.”

you smile at him blearily just as the door to the gondola opens. the ride operators take in your disheveled appearances, but round it up to an hour of being stranded at the top of a thrill ride. what were they going to say, anyway? miss, why is that man's cum leaking down your leg?

nanami is casual, holding his head high and exiting first with your pompompurin plush while you follow behind him shyly, his arm wrapping around your waist to hoist you down from the gondola. he knows that the limp in your walk will be too obvious— you’re always so sore after he fucks you— so he kneels down on the platform, letting you climb onto his back to be carried.

the carnival is deserted now. rides that once blasted the summer’s top hits have been shut down, sideshows boarded up for the night, and fairgoers who filled the streets have gone home by the time you and nanami make your way towards the exit, avoiding the makeshift emergency triage to the left checking on passengers of the ferris wheel even though no one was injured. but maybe you needed to let them check your heart and diagnose why you selfishly forced nanami into hanging out with you on his only day off, why you confessed to loving your professor while you were bouncing on his cock—

why you meant every word you said to him.

“say, kento,” you call sleepily, one cheek smushed against his shoulder as your head lolls cutely against it. you hear him hum for you to continue, shifting your weight evenly as he walks out of the carnival grounds and towards the parking lot. a lump forms at the base of your throat, and you hate how vulnerable and weak you sound. “i’m sorry for dragging you out here today on your day off. you must be annoyed with me, right?”

“don’t be foolish,” his voice is back to that endearing monotone, but he gives your thighs a soft squeeze as he strolls, pressing the key finder to his mercedes once you reach the parking lot to locate it. he's been an idiot the entire time, hiding you away like he has. “i’m off next saturday too so let’s go out on a date again.”

˚‧ ✰ hottest students in nanami's class: @tobiodose, @lawscorazon, @fushisslut, @danibby, @hanmas, @atsumeii, @venusflytrapstar, @sheerxfiction, @sintiva, @getosbunny, @tonaken, @sailewhoremoon !!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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ceasarslegion · 7 days

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wait, now im really interested in the silica gel drama. how did hlrp sex ed lead to eating a gel packet?

This is going to require a novel's length of context.

To begin, I want to underline that this is not meant to be a callout post, and I will not be providing any identifying traits that could be used to single this person out. The most you will get out of that are she/her pronouns, and her age at the time this happened, which was years ago, and I will not specify what year. I genuinely do hope she got the help she needed after this, because LORD knows she needs it and didn't find it at home. This is also not meant to be a character assassination, nor should anybody who reads this post consider it to be a takedown of any sort, and if you try to find this person through me or any of our mutual friends, you will not be met with kind words. The only thing this is meant to be is a wild-ass story of some of the most off the wall experiences I personally had with this person from my specific side of the story, with a few no-username screenshots attached to prove I am not bullshitting you.

With that in mind, let's get started. This is going to be very long, so I'm throwing in a read more

Back when I was in uni, I joined a growing group of Half Life roleplay blogs. The whole idea of our group was that we each chose a character, canon or OC, and we would blog as if the pre-Black Mesa incident moment in the timeline was a workplace comedy a la The Office or Superstore. I played Barney, because I was already working night shift security at this point and thought it would be funny. Plus, it gave me something to do that wasn't staring at CCTV feeds all night tossing a ball against the wall. We played off of each other very well, yes-anding our way through funny little situations and plotlines we put together. At one point we had roleplayed enough that one of the scientist rpers created a discord server for us to talk as the actual people we are instead of through characters.

Great idea at the time. None of us saw the "Pandora's box" label on the tin before we opened it. Would I still join it if I knew what was about to transpire? Yes, because I met my boyfriend and many genuinely lovely friends through it. Would I hesitate for a second first, though, as the events that are about to transpire flashed before my eyes? Oh, abso-fucking-lutely.

We started off as many fandom servers do: chill for the most part, very loud minority of a few assholes who ruined it for the rest of us, but unlike most fandom servers, we actually won and it ended in them getting banned and the server itself surviving to this day. But the other two lunatics are not who you came here for. You want the christian lunatic.

Let's give her a nickname to make this easier. I have the Sylveon build a bear on my PC desk. Let's call her Syl.

Syl was not there for Half Life, she was there for Portal. She LOVED Portal, Half Life was just part of the same universe for her. Portal wasn't just a game for her, it was her entire personality. Which I didn't see much of an issue with at the time, because she said she was 15. Whatever, I thought; she'll learn to control her emotional attachment to things as she gets older. Syl also said that she was christian. I am a flaming atheist who doesn't even believe in the concept of a soul in comparison and I am NOT the biggest fan of christianity as an institution to put it mildly, but I'm not gonna like, be a dick to you for your personal religion if you are not a dick about my beliefs, so I didn't think much of it at the time.

It quickly became apparent that Syl looked up to me more than any of the other adults in the group the more I would talk about my life growing up as a third culture kid and moving out on my own at 19, working 2 jobs and going to a good university. She would ask me a lot about growing up and uni and moving out and yes, sex ed, and it became even more apparent that she didn't get any actual guidance from her parents or pastors or ANYBODY beyond bible studies and homeschooling, so I kinda stumbled into a mentorship role in her life. I wasn't cold, but I was aware of the age and maturity difference between us and established the appropriate boundaries with her and made it very clear that I am an internet friend, not an irl friend or an educator, but if no one else was going to give her information that wasn't actively harmful then fuck, I guess SOMEONE had to do it. I could not in good conscience watch some kid go through life with harmful inaccuracies about the world and basic human biology when I could have done something about it, y'know?

And the more things I taught her about the real world and how things actually work rather than how her republican bible-thumping rural town said they did, the more I realized she was born into a full-blown cult under the guise of a christian congregation. Oh goody, I had my work cut out for me. I will not get into the details of how messed up this group was because it will be a dead giveaway of where she lives and potentially who she is, but let's just say that one time I said that I appreciated the gesture of praying for me during a stressful week I was having but it didn't really do anything for my mental health because I was an atheist, and she sent me a bunch of bible verses begging me to start believing and said "I just don't want you to go to hell because you're so nice :((" EXCUSE ME??? Another time she said that death was only sad for non-christians because their loved ones were in hell and that proper christians deaths were a good thing because they were in heaven now. Hi, that's the most insensitive death cult shit I've ever heard in my goddamn life.

Okay, set up is done. All of these details will tie in like the world's worst reboot of Pulp Fiction, I prommy.

After a good long while learning about the world from me (which like... a uni kid working night shift security is not exactly an academic source but we take what we can get) and exposure to viewpoints outside of her in-group, Syl began that very painful journey of realizing that what the cult taught you was a lie. Except that she just wasn't grasping that unlearning things was an active process. She started to flip to the opposite side very quickly, but kept all the fundamental brainwashing of the cult that raised her. The concepts were all the same, just slapped a different label on them. This created a noticeable pull between two sides of the same personality: the cult personality, and the person beyond the cult who wanted to break free. Mix that with how fucking 15 years old every 15 year old is, and you have a LETHAL concoction just waiting to blow up at the first sign of a spark.

Remember how I said that Portal was her whole personality? Syl decided that she wanted to be a scientist, and go into an ivy league program like I was in (I was in a SOCIAL science, but sure). Problem was, she didn't have the grades or the ambition, really. I had told her that I still got into an ivy league when I failed math in high school, and she seemed to completely miss the part where I said that I also joined every extra-curricular, then worked for 2 gap years for recognized institutions, and wrote an essay about why my math grade is not relevant to my program. I did it with one bad grade, so she was justified in basically just slacking off and then excusing it with "but its haaarrrdd" when we'd tell her she needs to put the fucking work in NOW if that's what she wants to do.

It quickly derailed from here. Not only was she going to be a scientist, she was going to be like Cave Johnson. And she was going to... replace her body with robot parts so she could be like glados. I don't... think she actually knew what science is, because she would just publically fantasize about running unethical experiments on people in the name of "science," and talk about how one day she wants to basically establish aperture labs for real. All of us who were there kind of agree that we don't think she was joking based on what we knew about her and the cadence of her tone. Here's something she said at the time to give you an idea of what direction she was nosediving in:

This was after a session with her therapist where said therapist said that she definitely has some kind of personality disorder, after which she was weirdly proud of having one and treated it like a badge of honour.

Syl then made a separate group chat for all the best friends she made on the server. There was her, me, @false-pyre, and @imtheaura. She titled it "My Family," despite the fact that we were all adults and she was 15 and she only knew us over a discord half life server where one person in it stepped up to somewhat equip her for real life outside of a cult. Regardless though that GC was more the vibe of a group of friends sharing memes and chatting about the day than the wider server was at the time. The others began to also take on a sort of mentorship role towards her as well, because that's kind of inevitable when you get someone talking about teenager problems in a room full of adults who all made the same mistakes before in their own lives. Well, minus the cult.

And remember how I said that she didn't unlearn any of the cult shit? Well, there was a lot of proselytizing. She decided she wasn't christian for a spell, but still wanted us and everyone to know that jesus was the lord and savior and we had to accept him or we'd burn in hell. Usually said after we'd make some joke about satan being daddy or declaring ourselves god instead, because that is just the type of humor the others and i have with each other. She took it so personally whenever one of us would go "oh my god" "you called?" it was fucking annoying. I lost count of the amount of lectures she gave us, all of which I'd shut down and tell her to get a grip about because I have a big stupid mouth.

The others and I also like to talk about evolution, and speculate about where we're going from here. My fucking god, did she not like that. She bit our heads off about how evolution isn't real and god made everyone as we are and there's no scientific evidence or whatever the hell. Like yeah good luck getting into STEM with that mindset. Whenever we pointed out that she was objectively wrong about that, she'd have a big stupid meltdown about how much we're slandering god and how jesus died for us and we're spitting in his face or whatever. He should spit in MY face inste-*GUNSHOT*

Eventually, we were making some actual progress with her. She was still one fry short of a happy meal and going off about how much she wanted to put living subjects in test tubes in between knocking on our doors and reciting Hello from the Book of Mormon musical, but we were getting somewhere. And then she went back to in person school, and her favourite teacher got fired.

The schoolboard did not say why she got fired, but we all had our suspicions that it was because she openly supported queer rights in a cult town. She was coincidentally retired shortly after making a declaration that queer people are still welcome in god's kingdom. This teacher was the first in person adult Syl had for guidance, so that incident shook her to her core, and she fell right back into the extremism. Hook, line, and sinker, even more extreme than before.

She was WEIRD that week, man. Suddenly everything was about how great god was, how amazing jesus was. Suddenly she understood why her cult member parents "just wanted to protect her" from gay characters on disney+ originals. Suddenly no one could say "jesus christ lol" around her or she'd have a fit. I said "I hate cycle counts lmao i wanna kms" because my then-job (I had graduated at this point) made me do inventory management spontaneously and wouldn't let me go home until I had counted every product in the store, and she bit my head off accusing me of turning suicide into a joke.

It was that incident that made us tell her to knock it off already, that we understood it was a hard week for her and she was in a period of grief, but that is no excuse for how she had been acting towards everyone around her that wasnt christian, and that she was actively relapsing. I'll let the exchange speak for itself:

So uh. After years of helping Syl through this she goes and pulls this bullshit. And then has the fucking AUDACITY to act like nothing ever happened in the wider server. I am genuinely gobsmacked by the balls on her to act like it was all sunshine and rainbows in the wider server after sending this and immediately leaving the same GC SHE made and titled "My Family" just because we told her to stop acting like a goddamn Jonestown citizen after all the work we'd put in to get her out of that mentality at this point.

So I dragged her up in front of everyone and essentially said "no, nuh uh, you don't get to say that shit to the people who have lost sleep and asked for nothing in return trying to help you escape a cult over the last 2 years and then act like we're all buddy buddy to everybody else. You don't get to be that arrogant and self-righteous without any consequences. I don't give a fuck how young you are, you DON'T treat the people who have helped you this much like that, you selfish little shit. How dare you treat us like this after all we've done for you over the years."

Unfortunately, no one involved had surviving screenshots of this, but they can back me up on it if they so choose. And oh boy, DID she face the consequences of her own actions. The whole server basically turned their heads and went "what the FUCK is wrong with you, Syl??" and asked her to at least like, apologize. She proceeded to double down with the added audacity of "you guys taught me how to establish healthy boundaries, that's all I'm doing right now :(( oh woe is me :(((" like WOW, okay. Someone's really going for the persecution complex.

Here's her last goodbye to us all before the mass block fest occured:

Oh, boohoo. You're so hard done by. You spat in the faces of everyone who stayed up all night multiple times helping you through crises and spent the last 2 years teaching you about how the world really worked and then they asked you to apologize after you tried to escape accountability. You truly are god's strongest soldier, the most persecuted minority in the world. Let me play you an ode to how righteous and holy you are and how this was the most important hill to sacrifice all your outsider friendships on on the world's smallest violin.

Syl then went on to post on her roleplay blog that she "was banned because I spoke up for what was right, and they didn't like that" before deleting it. Truly no one has suffered as much as you.

Anyway, the day after that went down, I called in from work, bought this book, and read the whole thing purely out of spite:

It was greatly therapeutic. After that incident, I vowed to never sanitize my own atheistic beliefs for the benefit of others again. If they don't like them, they don't have to talk to me. But I am not changing them for other people or keeping them quiet just to spare your feelings anymore, I have as much a right to my beliefs as anyone else does, including the world's most persecuted minority here.

And well, the silica gel incident?

There was one incident, during the height of Syl's "I am the irl cave johnson and only want to get into STEM to conduct unethical experiments on people. follow jesus" era, the rest of us were joking about how silica gel packets are the ultimate forbidden snack, and said "haha would eating it make you see shrimp colours" knowing full well it can kill you.

Syl proceeded to actually eat a silica gel packet and then send in "it has a sandy texture and tastes bad" prompting the rest of us to go "WE WERE FUCKING JOKING FIND YOUR POISON CONTROL HOTLINE RIGHT NOW"

And because i didnt get this done until now, I'll tag everyone who said they wanted to read this or expressed interest: @captainjonnitkessler @formydarlingtoread @cra-zwizard @chasingnightrainbows

#ramblings #what do i even tag this

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laxmiree · 6 months

Text

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Exclusive Past- Monochrome Scenery translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT ⚠️

This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the story that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Through Thousands of Mirrors Event | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | HS/Uni SSR Story: Monochrome Scenery (You're here!)

[Notes from Lux: Here’s the CN video link if anyone wants to follow along his Voice Acting. VERY recommended to re-read Until Dawn R&S regarding his 'contract' with BS. AND perhaps Distant Similarity UR MQ as it's the date that is relevant to this story.

[Part 1]

I walk hurriedly towards Dr. Lawson's laboratory, while opening the paper bag in my hand, and stuffing the hamburger into my mouth.

Skipping lunch might save some time, but if it leads to a lack of carbohydrates and sugar, causing a decrease in productivity during the entire afternoon, it could be counterproductive.

When will nutritionists finally invent nutritional packages? Preferably in the form of a liquid that can be consumed just once a day.

The time saved this way would be enough for me to read a few more research papers.

??: Hi, Lucien. Are you going to the lab?

A friendly voice from behind rings out, and I turn to look behind me.

Lucien: Hello, Elliot.

Elliot: Seems like we're both going to be late.

Elliot quickly crosses a puddle, only slowing down after catching up with my steps.

Elliot: But I recall you've always been punctual. Did the recent lab class not go smoothly?

Lucien: I chatted with Professor White for a while and lost track of time.

Elliot: Ah, I understand. She's always very talkative... The only one who can talk as much as her is my clinical medicine professor.

Elliot sighed deeply and pointed at the teaching building he had walked from. We quicken our pace once more.

When we arrive at the lab, Senior Caroline has already begun today's work.

Just as I put my bag next to my desk, someone heavily pats my back.

??: Hi!!

The overly enthusiastic voice pierces through my eardrums, and without turning around, I know it's Colt.

Now that he's here, his daily challenges are probably about to begin again.

Sure enough, after greeting me, Colt slightly composes himself and looks at me.

Colt: Good afternoon, "Xiū, Mǒ" How's that, did I pronounce it correctly this time?

Lucien: It's "Xǔ Mò".

He scratches his head in frustration and quickly starts a new round of attempts.

Lucien: Actually, you can just call me "Lucien".

Colt: How can that be acceptable? I have great respect for Chinese culture; I'll definitely learn how to pronounce your name!

Colt raises his eyebrows high, and the confident expression on his face is so exaggerated that it could be used as a reference for the facial expression scale.

I give up trying to explain to him that "respect" and "pronunciation" are not causally related, and I put on my protective gear after setting down my bag.

I hope he succeeds soon and gives up making me his involuntary Chinese teacher, where I'm only tasked with examining two words every morning.

Caroline: Shut up, Colt. Leave Lucien alone and come over here to work, okay?

Caroline who was immersed in her experiment furrows her brow and glares at Colt, using her gaze to reprimand the "senior" lab member who has been there the longest.

In the end, she smiles and greets me.

Caroline: How's it going today, Xǔ Mò?

Lucien: Sorry for being late. Where should I start taking over from now?

Colt: This isn't fair! You've never greeted me with such a smile. Wait, why is your pronunciation correct? One more time, Xiū... Xī…

Like everyone else, I calmly ignore Colt's continuous self-challenges and begin today's work.

As a newcomer who has been in the lab for just about a month, there isn't much for me to do.

In fact, everyone here is more like doing their own research in the lab on topics they are passionate about, while occasionally helping Dr. Lawson with minor tasks.

Looking back, it seems that this casual and free atmosphere could be glimpsed from the very beginning, during that interview with just two questions.

=Flashback Start=

Dr. Lawson: You have an excellent research experience, and the awards you've received are enough to apply to even more top-notch labs.

Dr. Lawson: Why did you choose to reach out to me?

The doctor set my application paper and the stack of recommendation letters aside, looking into my eyes.

Lucien: I'm currently very interested in topics related to parietal lobe function research and its applications.

Lucien: So, for me, your lab is the best choice.

Dr. Lawson: Hmm, there is indeed a high match in terms of research direction.

Dr. Lawson: So, what do you hope the lab can provide for you?

I instinctively thought I had misheard.

Questions like "What do you think you can bring to the lab?" are ones I've mastered, but this reverse question isn't as common.

After a brief moment of thought, I honestly answered.

Lucien: If possible, I hope to research more of what I'm interested in within the limited time.

The doctor raised an eyebrow without giving a clear response, concluding this brief interview that lasted less than a few minutes. And a few days later, he sent me an acceptance email.

=Flashback End=

Colt: Hey, Xī Mó! Listen to me, I have a great idea!

Probably seeing that I'm not especially busy, Colt eagerly strides over to my desk, holding a small box in his hand.

I set down the keyboard, take out a notebook from the side, and turn towards him.

Colt's thought process is unique; he always manages to come up with some innovative ideas.

Lucien: Do you have any new ideas regarding the research topic?

Colt: No, no, there's not much to do today. How about a game of the traditional lab card game - NOU!

Colt: Do you want to join?

Lucien: …

And of course, there are times when it's just pure time-wasting.

I offer a polite and apologetic smile in return.

Lucien: No, thank you.

[Part 2]

A fixed routine can often lead to a skewed perception of time and dates.

I flip over the calendar again and mark the schedule for the midterm exam week, which is about half a month away.

Exams may not be a cause for concern, but papers and classroom presentations still require time-consuming preparation.

I furrow my brow as I look at the data for my research project on my desk. Just as I'm about to set down my pen, I pause.

The current issue is that the research progress is slower than anticipated, requiring extra time to meticulously review the results.

The once well-structured plan has become exceptionally tight.

How about cutting two hours off my sleep? It shouldn't significantly affect my regular routine.

And smoothly, a blank section appears on the spreadsheet.

Satisfied, I add a line next to my schedule: "Email Dr. Lawson to request an extension of laboratory usage time" as a reminder.

Then, I pick up the already printed poster and leave the dorm on time.

It's my turn to present a report in class today.

Lucien: Hello, everyone. Now it's my turn to share something with all of you.

Whispers of discussion arise one after another, even a few students who had just been yawning straightened up in their seats.

Half the semester has passed, and the curious glances that used to accompany me have subsided. My age, my height, and where I come from might not be as important anymore.

I know very well that now all the curious and probing gazes are focused solely on the poster I have unfolded.

In the corner of my eye, someone raises their hand.

Lucien: Is there a question?

I set down my materials and quietly look at the student who raises their hand.

Student A: I don't have any questions about your presentation. I'm just curious if injuries in the relevant brain region have an impact on drug addiction?

This is an expected question, as I myself noticed similar uncertainties when researching for literature.

Lucien: There is indeed an overlap, but based on existing research, I don't believe there is a direct correlation between the two.

Lucien: Moreover, for the topic I'm currently presenting, there's no need to overly emphasize the impact of different functions within the same area.

But it's evident that the other person doesn't share the same view.

After a brief moment of silence, he raises the issue of potential effects caused by drugs, and I counter each of his points.

However, the consecutive inquiries and debates have actually given me a fresh perspective on the topic at hand.

I attempt to work it out in my head, then take a pen and start writing on the whiteboard.

Lucien: Adding the drug effects caused by addiction as one of the conditions…

Lucien: I currently lack the relevant literature evidence, further substantiation will require future research, but I do have some hypotheses.

The rapidly moving marker on the whiteboard makes a slight squeaking sound as I write, and more questions and discussions emerge in the classroom.

Student B: Given the drug effects, the current papers seem somewhat lacking in rigor.

Student C: But we also shouldn't overly focus on such special cases, just from an experimental perspective…

These ideas and questions aren't quite direct and precise enough.

But the known theorems are once again filled with possibilities, and what I initially considered just a school assignment topic seems to have become interesting again.

The brilliance of the unknown and curiosity subtly shine through the structured words, silently beckoning everyone who tries to explore the mysteries.

Of course, I'm also paying the corresponding "price" for this "interest".

Class ends nearly twenty minutes later than scheduled, and I can only jog all the way, hoping not to be too late for the next classroom.

As I gaze at the ever-extending street ahead, I begin to understand why so many people are buying bicycles.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Lucien: Good afternoon, I hope I'm not too late.

Caroline: Of course not. Take a rest for a while. There isn't much to do today.

Caroline looks up, smiles at me, and points to the well-stocked snack cabinet on the side.

I put down my backpack, intending to pick up my water bottle to get some water, but I notice that there's a stack of data on the table that I haven't worked on, with several annotations written in different handwriting.

Slender and smooth cursive characters detail the model's construction and calculation process, while round and hastily written words explain extensive contemplation and inferences, along with many grammar errors.

Slightly smaller handwriting marks cited references and related experiments.

Lucien: Are these... further derivations based on my personal research project?

A head pokes out from the edge of the table.

Colt smiles and waves at me, with Caroline and Elliot following behind.

Several people stand by the table, making the already small space seem even smaller.

Colt: Well, I heard about the direction of your project a few weeks ago during the meeting and found it very interesting. I got into the habit of discussing it with Caroline when we were chatting…

Caroline gives an apologetic smile.

Caroline: I'm really sorry. Colt looked at your desk and research notes without your permission.

Caroline: He usually doesn't have a strong sense of boundaries when he's around us, and we've become used to it. We didn't expect him to go through your research materials this time.

Caroline: I initially wanted to refuse to discuss it with him, but the research direction is so novel, and the reasons for the roadblock are also quite intriguing. It was easy to get carried away…

The research content is indeed not much of a privacy concern, and exchanging data and projects is quite normal.

Lucien: Next time, we could discuss it during the regular meeting or just talk to me directly. It would be more efficient.

Lucien: However…

I quietly watch the smiling faces of others, my puzzlement still not answered.

Lucien: As I recall, my direction doesn't really overlap with yours, does it?

Caroline: Yes, so we've just made some inferences. The specifics still require you to take another look.

Lucien: Okay.

I lower my head again and begin to roughly browse through those handwritings.

Colt didn't propose a new direction but changed the experimental approach, while Caroline and Elliot used this to present arguments or counterarguments.

Different notes mutually fill in and correct each other, gradually outlining a clear framework.

Lucien: This hypothesis seems to have a high feasibility.

Lucien: I will try to adjust the experiment according to this approach later.

Lucien: At a suitable time in the future, based on the specific data, we can determine whether it can move forward or not.

Colt: Sure, it can!

Colt nods vigorously, his voice much louder than usual.

Colt: I've noticed that you've been busy with midterm exams and papers lately, so I ran some of the data with them to save you from spending extra time to test and verify the data.

Colt: So far, several graphs are looking quite good. I hope they can be of help to you!

Lucien: …All of the data?

I'm stunned.

I've already prepared to apply for extra lab time, but the data I needed to test and verify has just landed directly in my hands like this.

Colt: Of course! The three of us taking turns won't take much time, better than you staying here without eating or drinking.

On the side, Elliot also smiles and hands over another stack of documents.

Elliot: I asked a friend who's a clinical medicine student, and I was able to get some research materials on what happens when you have a lesion in the area in question.

Elliot: Perhaps it can offer some assistance from a different perspective. Consider it as broadening your perspective.

Lucien: Thank you. I did plan to reference some research findings from other fields, but unfortunately, I haven't had enough time recently.

A valuable idea to consider, coupled with readily available data, and the issue that had been stagnant for two weeks was suddenly solved without any warning.

I silently look at the mixed handwriting.

I know that human beings will always help each other and work together to achieve what individuals can't do alone.

Relying on each other for certain aspects and independently taking on the needs of others within the same community.

But along with the objective facts, there is also an inexplicable and faint warm feeling surging to my heart.

The seemingly ordinary paper in my hand now vaguely has a different weight to it.

Lucien: (gently) Thank you, all of you.

Colt: Hey, kid.

Colt smiles and puts his arm around my shoulder.

Colt: We're all from the same lab, so helping each other is only natural.

[Part 3]

After the last meeting before the autumn break, Dr. Lawson stopped me.

Dr. Lawson: Lucien, do you have any plans for the autumn break?

Dr. Lawson is organizing the reports we submitted, his tone is calm.

Lucien: I'm staying on campus. If there's a need for someone to oversee the lab, I can help.

Dr. Lawson: You aren't going home?

I smile and reply in the same tone that Colt and the others usually use when joking around.

Lucien: Returning to Loveland City during such a short one-week break?

Dr. Lawson smiles and shakes his head.

Dr. Lawson: How about going nearby? You still have time to plan a short trip with friends.

Dr. Lawson: There are plenty of interesting places within the state worth seeing. Take a train or bus, and "whoosh," it's easy to get around.

Lucien: That sounds appealing, but I'd prefer to take this opportunity to catch up on my project and coursework progress.

Lucien: Recently, my research has just started to make some progress. I'd like to work on it nonstop until I achieve some results.

Lucien: Or is it just that during the autumn break, the school doesn't allow students to stay on campus?

Dr. Lawson: Of course not, silly kid.

Dr. Lawson: I'm just curious, why are you always in such a hurry?

I quietly look at the old man in front of me.

There are too many things I want to explore, and there's too little time.

Nevertheless, I don't feel that I appear "impatient" in my usual behavior.

The doctor shakes his head and taps the table with his fingers.

Dr. Lawson: At your age, you should go out more, travel, play games, take walks, do something silly... Just do anything to waste time and enjoy life.

Dr. Lawson: You do have an impressive intellect, but there are geniuses all around here. So, frankly, you're also an ordinary kid.

Lucien: ….

I've never thought of myself as a once-in-a-lifetime genius, but being straightforwardly labeled as "ordinary" is indeed a first for me.

And, of course, being labeled "in a hurry" is also a first.

Lucien: I don't quite understand what you mean, Doctor.

After a brief silence, I eventually chose to ask the question directly.

Dr. Lawson: I don't doubt your abilities. Lucien, you can accomplish many things by yourself.

Dr. Lawson: But you should also trust your team, after all, this laboratory doesn't consist of just you alone.

He casually points to a group of people in the distance who are playing NOU, and over there, it's particularly noisy, as if the game of cards is reaching a conclusion.

Caroline proudly crosses her arms and looks sideways at Colt, who is slumped over the table, looking dejected.

Elliot begins to tidy up the card table and starts shuffling the cards again.

Dr. Lawson: They're all kids in their late teens to early twenties here in the lab. Came a few years before you, and perhaps they'll leave a few years earlier as well.

Dr. Lawson: But in the road of scientific research, everyone is just a beginner taking their first steps.

Dr. Lawson: I'm not asking you to really study and imitate anyone, but doing something different from your usual routine might make you gain something special. What do you think?

The doctor slows down his voice, his calm tone not resembling a question, it's as if he's talking about the treasure that he is most proud of.

The stack of data with various annotations from a few days ago inexplicably resurfaces in my memory.

I subconsciously infer that when the doctor said, "You're just an ordinary kid", perhaps it meant, "There are many people like you here."

Looking at Dr. Lawson again, he remains as not casual and serious as he was during class. His words are solemn and genuine with a touch of guidance.

Dr. Lawson: If you haven't achieved any significant progress or results within a week, there's no need to lock yourself in the lab every day. But if you need to, remember to turn off the lights and lock the door.

I carefully put away the key he had placed on the table.

Lucien: I'll keep an eye out for it.

Dr. Lawson: Happy holidays.

Lucien: I also wish you a happy holiday.

I say goodbye to him, and as I walk to the door, the doctor adds another sentence.

Dr. Lawson: Take care. And of course, I mean not just during these vacation days.

He smiles at me, speaking a bit slower than usual.

Lucien: You too, Doctor. Take care.

"Take care." The simple sentence passes through my mind, lingering longer than the other phrases.

I think maybe it's because of the pronunciation.

—-------------------------------------------------------

The teaching building has become much quieter during the holidays.

The leaves outside the window are rustling. It's as if the entire city is reminding people of the traces of autumn.

The laboratory feels strangely colder than usual after I'm the only one left.

I closed the window, put on my sweatshirt, and continued with the experiment at hand.

However, the autumn chill didn't last long and was soon warmed up again by the lingering heat of summer.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Five days later, along with the rising temperature, what returned was the noisy chatter within the laboratory.

The first to arrive at the laboratory is the always-diligent Caroline.

She brings a larger-than-usual handbag, takes out beautifully wrapped gifts, and places them on everyone's table one by one.

Caroline: A few days ago, I went to Yellowstone National Park with my family and brought back some souvenirs.

Lucien: Thank you. How was your holiday?

Caroline: It was pretty good, though I wish it could have been longer. I feel like I could stay there for at least half a month.

Caroline: I thought you might prefer something more practical, so I brought this for you. Go ahead and open it.

She smiles and points to the gift box I had placed by the desk. Inside the neatly wrapped layers of gift paper is a coffee mug, with the design of erupting geysers on its surface.

Caroline: This is a landmark sight in the park. I was truly moved when I saw it erupt right on time. I really wish everyone in the lab could go see it!

Lucien: I'll go there if I get the chance in the future.

??: Hi friends! I'm back! Did you miss me during your wonderful holiday?

The next second, a figure rushes in through the door of the laboratory.

Colt is also carrying a package, which is twice the size of Caroline's.

Colt: Oh my god... you're actually working. That's way too diligent.

He looks at me with wide eyes. After some rummaging in the package, there's another gift on my desk.

Colt: I highly recommend trying my grandma's cookies. Even the most popular shops around here can't compete with her skills.

Colt: Oh, by the way, the bookmarks inside were made by my mom. She's recently gotten into handicraft, and our house is getting filled with the things she makes.

Lucien: Please thank your family on my behalf.

Colt: Then they'd be so delighted that they might just invite you over as a guest.

Colt: By the way, do you really spend every day in the lab? Haven't you had any rest at all?

Colt sits down next to me, looking like he won't give up until he gets an answer.

Lucien: I visited a few museums.

Lucien: I also visited some scenic spots along the way and strolled through the market.

Caroline: I remember a few days ago there was a Shakespearean touring theater group performing nearby. Have you heard about it? The performance…

The computer screen in front of me enters screensaver mode, and I realize that I should politely decline this conversation to reactivate the computer and continue processing the data I was in the middle of reviewing.

But when my fingertips touch the keyboard, I pause again.

Such conversations don't have much meaning, but they don't make me feel annoyed either.

Besides, today's progress has been completed ahead of schedule, and there is indeed some free time on my agenda.

I let the screen continue playing the screensaver images.

Colt: How about we also go see a play today?

Lucien: The theater troupe left the day before yesterday, and tickets also needed to be booked in advance.

During the conversation, the laboratory door is pushed open once again.

Elliot: Hey, I thought I was the earliest one here.

Elliot also has a delicately wrapped gift in his hands.

Same greetings, same small talk, and same distribution of gifts.

I look at the three gifts on the desk- I should have some time over the weekend to visit the market and find three suitable return gifts.

Before the plan has been finalized, another particularly large gift appears on my desk.

Dr. Lawson: You all should find these books useful.

Dr. Lawson smiles and nods at us, placing the hefty books one by one on our respective desks, before finally sitting back in the chair and letting out a sigh of relief.

Dr. Lawson: I really should have chosen some lighter gifts; four big books are too heavy for an old man like me.

Lucien: ....Looks like it's four gifts.

I say to myself softly.

Dr. Lawson: Hmm? Did you say something, Lucien?

Lucien: Nothing. I was just saying… "thank you".

Lucien: By the way, Doctor. Here's the key to the laboratory.

The small key that has been with me for five days is returned to its rightful owner.

The gentle breeze blows a book on my table, flipping back a page as fallen leaves dance lightly and land on the windowsill.

I glance at the cloudless sky, hoping that this weekend will also be a sunny day, suitable for going out.

[Part 4]

Everyone left the laboratory with the gifts, but Colt unexpectedly broke from his usual behavior and didn’t attend any party.

Instead, he followed Elliot and me all the way to our dormitory building.

Elliot: Colt, your dormitory isn't over here.

Colt: I know, I know. But on this especially memorable day, how about a game of NOU to celebrate? Here's to our reunion!

Elliot: I knew it... I don't want to play NOU with just the two of us. You better invite one more person.

Colt: Will Xù mò be joining us?

Colt looks up at me, and this is the 16th invitation he has extended to me since I joined this laboratory.

Lucien: Okay.

Colt: It's fine, maybe next time... Wait, what?!

Elliot: You're going to join us?!

They aren't the only ones confused, I'm also a bit puzzled myself.

The choices I've made today are all a bit out of the ordinary, and it makes me wonder why I want to act the way I do.

If I join, will I be able to find the answers?

Besides... Looking at the two of them that have the same expression as if they've just seen a new topic; if I want to refuse now, the amount of effort required doesn't seem proportional to the outcome.

Lucien: Yes.

Lucien: I don't have any other plans for today-

Before I could finish speaking, the two of them had already surrounded me, one on the left and one on the right.

Colt: Is this the blessing of the Autumn Break God! Elliot, let's go quickly.

Elliot: Lucien won't run away again this time.

Saying so, he continues to pull me without stopping towards a small table in the public lounge area.

Just as we sit down at the small table, Colt eagerly begins to shuffle the cards.

Elliot: Do you need an explanation of the rules?

Lucien: No need.

Having watched them play so many times, I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the rules of the game, and the symbols on the corners of the cards also help me determine their colors.

I'll consider it as an exercise in reasoning and memory then.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Elliot: NOU, +2!

Colt: Wait a minute, that's not right. You're cheating! Why do you have a red +2?

After the initial "demonstration round", I quickly realized that this game might not be as straightforward as I had imagined.

Lucien: ...Drawing a +2 card directly from the deck is not entirely impossible either.

Colt: Huh? +2 should be in your hand, right?

Colt: Judging by the overall color distribution of the cards played, it seems like you're building a hand predominantly based on red cards.

Lucien: However, based on the cards that have already been played, there are still 28% red cards left in the deck.

Lucien: I would need to draw that +2 card along with another red number card starting from at least the first four rounds to maintain an advantage without playing the +2.

Elliot: My dear friend, just admit that low probability is still probability and draw the cards.

I nod in silence and urge Colt to draw a card, preventing the game from turning into his endless mathematical calculations.

If that happens, he will build a solid model in his mind and he'll be almost impossible to beat.

I take another look at the situation on the card table.

Setting Colt aside for now, among Elliot's three cards, there should only be blue and green ones.

Or in an extremely low-probability scenario, there might be one Wild card or possibly the last +4 card aside from mine.

I closely watch each card played, rapidly calculating the possible card arrangements in others' hands in my mind.

And I'm equally aware that the other two people sitting at the card table are also making their own deductions in their own ways.

I need to conduct another experiment, even if the cost is higher than expected value.

It's my turn once again.

Lucien: Change color, let's go with... blue.

Colt, who is determined to beat Elliot, wears a worried expression, while Elliot confidently draws a card.

"Reverse."

I silently say to myself.

Elliot: Reverse.

The variables waiting to be filled in gradually decrease, and assuming confirmation is obtained, the inference is established.

The opportunity to determine the course of the card game on the table comes back to me once again.

Colt: Come on Xǔ mò, it's time to play a number card and join forces to eliminate Elliot early!

Lucien: Is that so? I thought I'd have a better option.

Quick responses and extensive thinking make the brain more active than usual.

A seemingly meaningless card game becomes more complex due to repeated setups and disruptions.

Pure competition for calculation speed and formulating strategies stimulate the release of neurotransmitters.

I raise the corners of my mouth and quietly play my card.

Lucien: I choose +4, green.

Due to too many unexpected situations, Colt, who had stopped calculating, begins to howl in frustration.

Elliot, sitting across the table, also appears surprised, his gaze once again scanning the cards on the table.

It's my turn again.

I smile, say NOU, and play the green number card, leaving only one of the same color in my hand and skipping the next player’s turn.

Unless the almost improbable reversal occurred when they have the last card, a color-changing card, and bring it onto the playing field from the deck

But I trust my calculations more than probability.

Colt: Xǔ mò, I thought you were my friend!

Colt has flipped his cards onto the table, giving up on the struggle.

Lucien: Of course I am. That's why I'm sitting here, playing cards with you.

I lean my chin on my hand and look at the card table, unable to suppress the victorious curve at the corner of my mouth.

Lucien: Also, thank you for calling me by my name correctly.

Unfortunately, it's still Elliot who reaches 500 points first.

Colt is not one to accept defeat easily, and he pulls us into starting a new round of the game.

The card game goes on from the afternoon into the evening, and we unknowingly gather a crowd of onlookers around us.

Centered around this small table, the dormitory that was quiet just a few hours ago is now overflowing with discussion and laughter.

We graciously give up our seats to other students who also want to give it a try and withdraw from the crowd.

Colt: Xī... Xú mò is quite skilled. If we go by rounds, he tied with Elliot.

I haven't responded yet when Elliot chuckles and shakes his head, then tosses a box of ice cream from the fridge to both Colt and me.

It's the most common chocolate ice cream with nuts and chocolate chunks added.

I've seen it in many convenience stores, but I've never been interested in buying it.

Elliot: In front of our little genius' brain, even the best luck can only yield to skill.

Colt: Sigh... the vacation is too short. It feels like it just started, and now it's already over in a blink of an eye.

Colt finished his ice cream in a few bites and tossed the empty box into the trash. He leans on the bar table, watching the new round of NOU craze.

Colt: How about we have another round of NOU to refresh ourselves after the experiment is over tomorrow?

Elliot: Lucien, are you joining as well?

Lucien: I have to start preparing for my thesis from tomorrow.

Lucien: The experiment has made progress as well, so I want to sort out the related processes.

Colt: Oh... that's a shame. But how about next time? You'll come, right?

In the dorm room without air conditioning on this autumn day, the ice cream seems to melt even faster than it would in the heat of summer.

I scoop up a spoonful of the slightly softened ice cream and put it in my mouth.

The taste of chocolate spreads with the coolness, it's sweeter than I had imagined.

Lucien: I will if I have the time.

—------------------------------------------------

After seeing them off, I close the door and start preparing for tomorrow's coursework, allowing life to return to its normal course.

A notification pops up on my laptop, indicating an email from Dr. Lawson.

"Hi, everyone. Thank you for your hard work. Our lab's project has passed the review, so you can start preparing for the academic conference that will take place in a few months."

"The conference will be held on a beautiful beach on the West Coast. Since we have ample time, you can all bring your swimsuits and enjoy some time by the water."

"Colt, as for you, don't bring too many fancy things. And definitely leave the unicorn swimming ring behind!"

I can almost imagine Dr. Lawson saying this with a furrowed brow, while Colt complains reluctantly.

"P.S. Lucien's personal research topic aligns with the conference theme. Although the application is a bit late, there will be people at the conference who have done related research."

"You can prepare a summary of your current progress and any issues you've encountered to discuss together."

"P.P.S. Welcome back, everyone."

These few short sentences make me feel a bit warm.

*Ding*

The inbox hasn't closed yet, and there's another notification sound.

The email is encrypted; its sender is Black Swan.

I glance at the calendar and realize that today is the day for the routine report.

The newly arrived email obscures most of Dr. Lawson's message, and the sharp-edged letters in the signature appear to be some kind of silent warning.

"Why are you always in such a hurry?"

Dr. Lawson asked me this before the autumn break.

Yes, children his age have plenty of time to pause, slow down, and enjoy the scenery around them.

To try, to fail, to start over from scratch, to explore endless possibilities.

But Doctor, vacations are always so short.

They always end when you least expect it.

I close the laptop and start selecting the book I want to read tonight.

----------------------------------------------------------

[Phone Call- Class Reunion]

Lucien: Hello? At this time, you should have finished washing up and lying down, right?

MC: Um! I just finished my skincare routine and am already lying down.

Lucien: You sound happier than usual. Did you have a lot of fun at the class reunion today?

MC: You can tell?~ So many people came to the gathering today! All of my old roommates were there too!

Lucien: Are they the ones in the photo you sent, who took a group picture with you?

MC: Yes! Although we've kept in touch after graduation, getting back together like this is still quite rare.

Lucien: No wonder your eyes looked a bit red in the photo.

MC: Haha... I got a little too excited.

MC: But now that I think about it, I don't recall Professor Lucien mentioning much about his own classmates or roommates?

Lucien: I do have colleagues I work with in a lab, but our relationship might not be as close as you and your friends.

MC: Do you guys meet up regularly?

Lucien: We are now in different places continuing our own projects, and most of us have our own laboratories.

Lucien: It's indeed not easy to find a time when everyone is available.

Lucien: However, we do occasionally meet at neuroscience-related academic conferences. That could perhaps be considered a sort of 'class reunion'.

MC: ...Is this what gatherings are like for scientists?

MC: What about your roommates? Do you meet up with them?

Lucien: I lived in a single room and didn't really socialize with others in the same dormitory building.

MC: Wow! That must have been so comfortable! Doesn't that mean you could do whatever you wanted?

Lucien: At that time, I thought it was very convenient to have a space where I would not be disturbed by other people.

Lucien: But now, I've come to realize that having a 'neighbor' around who can 'disturb' me at any time might actually be more comforting.

MC: Oh? Do tell, I'm all ears!.

Lucien: For instance, when I'm out, someone can help me take care of the flowers on my windowsill, or if I forget to buy new tea leaves, I can ask this special neighbor next door for a bit.

Lucien: There are also occasional biscuits and sandwiches, and if I stay up too late, I will receive reminders.

Lucien: And more importantly…

Lucien: With this neighbor lady here, the place where I live is not just a spot to rest, but can be called a home.

[Phone Call - Novice Period]

Lucien: I thought you were also too busy to answer my call today.

MC: I just had a meeting with the new colleagues at the company, so I didn't hear your call.

Lucien: Do you still have some work left to finish?

MC: Not exactly... it's just that this recent batch of new colleagues who joined recently has been really busy.

MC: So I decided to hold a meeting to help them improve efficiency during work hours, aiming for them to leave on time after work.

MC: After all, there's always more work to be done, right? I don't want them to wear themselves out. The way they approach overtime work makes me quite nervous.

Lucien: [chuckles] They're lucky to have a boss who cares for the well-being of employees like you.

Lucien: However, when everyone starts their first job, there's always a certain level of nervousness. So, they can only ease that nervousness by working hard.

MC: Oh? Professor Lucien, you sound quite experienced, but I suppose you didn't have such worries, did you?

Lucien: Of course not, the first time I entered a laboratory outside of school, I also needed some time to adapt.

MC: Wow, what were you like back then?

Lucien: Hmm... I had to clean lab equipment, organize data files, help with literature research—there were many mundane tasks.

MC: Pfft, so Professor Lucien also started as a working person from scratch.

Lucien: That's right. Everyone in the same lab was highly capable, so back then, I often shadowed others, observing and learning as much as I could.

MC: Were there people even more capable than you?

Lucien: [chuckle] Among them, I think I'm just an ordinary person who works hard.

MC: Professor Lucien, your concept of 'ordinary' seems quite demanding.... But I didn't expect you to have a 'novice period' as well.

Lucien: Is that such a surprise?

MC: Maybe it's because your student days were quite unique. While most people were enjoying their youth, you were immersed in scientific research.

Lucien: I suppose it all depends on one's definition of 'youth'.

Lucien: If we're talking about a phase in life where you can do what you like without worrying about consequences, where you can fully explore possibilities…

Lucien: In that case, I'd say my graduate and postgraduate years could also be considered as 'youth'.

Lucien: If you define it as having a love with someone close to you, that you can't bear to part with and always in your heart…

Lucien: In that case, I'd say my youth hasn't had a chance to slip away from me yet.

--------------------------------------------------------

[Lux's short rambling corner]

And finally, it's done 🎉 If I'm being completely honest, the reason it took so long was because I felt that the end of this story seemed 'incomplete'—and I think it turns out to be true? Because the newest birthday story feels like it completes this story.

Still, just as he mentioned in "Distant Similarity UR' MQ," he's accustomed to working alone because there was no one he could confide in, often sacrificing his own sleep to fit more into his schedule. Due to his past self-reliance, he finds himself somewhat at a loss when others offer their assistance 🥲. He's someone who is deeply touched by even the smallest acts of kindness, and you can detect a hint of confusion in his usually monotone 'thank you.'

It's heartwarming to see that he receives small acts of kindness from those around him. His college life seems less hectic thanks to the support he gets from both his friendly seniors and caring mentor 🥺. I also enjoy their harmonious yet playful team dynamic, with Colt being my personal favorite because he reminds me of Fan Zihang, hahah.

Another noteworthy point is what Dr. Lawson mentioned about him being fundamentally an ordinary kid. I think it's accurate, because beneath his 'rush to move forward' demeanor, there's also a yearning for warmth and the opportunity to slow down.

In the dorm room without air conditioning on this autumn day, the ice cream seems to melt even faster than it would in the heat of summer.

I scoop up a spoonful of the slightly softened ice cream and put it in my mouth.

The taste of chocolate spreads with the coolness, it's sweeter than I had imagined.

God, I absolutely adore PG's writing and the beautiful metaphors they weave into the story. Through the story you can see how Lucien's barrier starts to melt by the warm atmosphere. And that's because he's an inherently lonely kid who also longs for warmth and mundane life. It's just too bad that the longing he had shattered in the face of his reality. If i had to describe what I feel when I read that sentence about the email, It'd be like waking up from a sweet dream, and now the sweet dream is tinted with layers of sadness🥲. The dream was over and he had no other choice but to bury his longing so deep.

Why the constant hurry? Because he had no choice but to grow faster than other kids; he didn't have the privilege to fail and try again. Why did he keep his distance from others? Perhaps because he doesn't want to experience another loss after his parents. Why didn't he go 'home'? Because at that time he didn't have anything that can be called a 'home'. Once he wakes up from this sweet but fleeting dream, the world he's diving into is even more treacherous than hell. So in the end, he kept his distance from others just as he said in Distant Similarity UR.

Distant Similarity UR," "Until Dawn R&S," and "Monochrome Scenery" together create a comprehensive picture of his 16-year-old self. "Distant Similarity UR" sheds light on how his college experiences influenced him and his reflections on that period. "Until Dawn R&S" delves into his narrative with BS and his ambitiousness. Meanwhile, "Monochrome Scenery" reveals his more 'human' side and the sense of his relaxed college life being a sort of 'vacation' amidst the long darkness in his life… Anyway, I want to write more but my schedule is tight with all the birthday translation 🤣 Perhaps if I have time I'd write a more comprehensive analysis. Thank you for reading!

#JNDSJHDJ SORRY IT WAS LATE #a very needed read for birthday event!!#mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo

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l8rs-gat0rs · 7 months

Text

A Vampire Romcom

Pairing: Juliette Fairmont x AFAB!reader

Warnings(s): Pining, Smutty smut smut, lowkey a bit of angst and fluff at the end, *kinda* slow burn, Vampire stuff (blood sucking, blood lust, etc.), some y/n use, ONE POV change to Juliette, Juliette being a big fat Lesbian and attempting to flirt :)

Summary: You're a transfer student at Lancaster academy and you bump into a cute girl, what are the odds she's also a cute Vampire?

(Edit) DISCLAIMER: An anon has brought up that In the show, Juliette is canonically 16, and the fact that it says "Minors DNI". I know that she is 16 In the show, but in this fan fiction Juliette and the reader are in their senior year which would make them both 18 (or 19 in some circumstances). Also, ofc I'm not gonna go hunting after you for interacting with my post if you are a minor, but I have to put the disclaimer.

Word count: 4.2k

I'm back baybeeee!!! My summer was so busy and fun I didn't really have motivation to write but now it's back to uni and we are ignoring being homesick and all of our stress and problems by writing😎 Also, I know, I know about the requests, I'm working on them right after I finish that captain Marvel smut I was talking about (it's almost done dw) My brain won't let me work on requests until I finish my own ideas cuz it's weird like that lmao. Anyways I hope at least some of you enjoy this one and the next while you wait for your fics. I am terribly sorry about making you wait <3

~~~~18+ minors DNI~~~~

You walked into Lancaster Academy and looked around.

It wasn't too bad compared to the other schools you've been to. It was actually quite nice if you were being honest, it felt more like a college campus than a high school.

You followed signs that pointed you to the main office. Classes had already started a month ago, but since you had just moved to Savannah, here you were, joining one month late, much to your perturbation.

You tried to convince your parents to let you skip the year and join the next one but, of course, they had absolutely shut that idea down.

Well, it was worth a shot.

You walked into the office and were greeted by the classic: an old lady with curly hair and glasses sitting at the desk.

"Hello, dear, how can I help you?" She smiled kindly at you.

"Hi, uh, I'm supposed to talk to Principal Waters? My name is y/n l/n, I just transferred here."

"Oh, yes! Miss l/n, you can go in, he's in there." She directed you.

You said "Thank you", giving her a small smile before walking into the principal's office.

When you walked in, he looked up and recognition filled his face.

"Ah, y/n, welcome! Please, sit." He gestured to one of the seats in front of his desk.

"Thanks." You said as you sat down, Principal Waters mirroring your action.

"So, today is your first day of classes. Here is your schedule, some information about clubs and whatnot, and lastly your gym uniform, which your parents already paid for." He handed you the things as he listed them off to you.

You organized them in your hands and nodded.

"Would you like me to give you a tour of the school and show you where your classes are?" He asked you.

Your eyes widened at his question.

"Oh, no no! That won't be necessary, I can find my way around." You quickly responded, shaking your free hand in the air in front of you in a waving motion.

He chuckled at your quick response.

"Alright, I get it. Well, your first class will start soon, so you should get a move on. Welcome to Lancaster Academy, y/n." Principal Waters smiled as you both stood up.

"Thanks." You shot him a crooked smile before leaving his office and subsequently the main office.

However as you were leaving the main office, you bumped into someone, dropping all of the papers and your gym uniform Principal Waters had given you.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry!" A voice said as both of you dropped down to pick up your stuff.

"No, it's okay, I wasn't looking where I was..." Your voice trailed off as you grabbed your things and looked up, meeting eyes with the girl you had bumped into.

"...going." You finished.

Holy shit she was cute.

She gave you a small smile as she handed you your gym uniform and schedule.

The two of you stood up and you awkwardly adjusted your backpack strap.

"U-um, are you new here? I've never seen you around." The other girl asked you sheepishly.

"Uh yeah, actually, I just transferred in today, I moved here recently." You responded, taking in her gorgeous blue eyes.

"Oh, cool, cool...Can I see your schedule? I mean, if you don't mind." She added quickly.

You smiled at her, oh she was absolutely adorable.

"Sure, here you go." You handed her your schedule.

She scanned over it before looking back at you.

"Oh, you're actually in my English class! I was just heading over, I mean, if you want to come with." She added nervously.

You smiled brightly at her.

"Oh, of course, it's not like I know the building anyway." You chuckled.

"Well, I could show you where all your classes are... I mean if you wanted me to, obviously!" She quickly added again, her eyes widening.

"Yeah, sure, that wouldn't be too bad, thanks." You smiled.

This was way better than Principal Waters showing you around.

She returned the action, melting your heart with her own smile.

"Alright, shall we head over?" You asked.

"Oh! Yeah, let's go." She said, starting to walk towards the classroom.

As you walked alongside her, you looked over to see her fiddling with her fingers and looking anywhere but at you. She was nervous.

"So… you gonna tell me your name or what?" You smirked as you spoke up.

Her eyes widened as she lifted her head to look at you.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry, I'm Juliette, what's your name?" She asked.

"Y/n." You responded with a relaxed smile.

"Y/n..." She repeated softly with a smile.

You would be lying if you said your heart didn't race at how delicious your name sounded coming from her mouth.

"You have a pretty name." You said as the two of you finally reached your classroom.

She blushed and looked down.

"Thanks, I really like yours, too." She smiled.

"Well, after you,” Juliette said, gesturing for you to walk through the door first.

"Why, thank you, madame." You thanked her with a slight bow, causing her to let out a giggle that was like music to your ears.

You grinned widely as you walked past her. You looked around the room in search of an open seat but pretty much all of them were taken.

"Um, you can sit next to me… if you want?" Juliette said shyly, slowly making her way over to her seat in case you wanted to follow.

"Sure." You smiled, following her to her desk.

You sat down, keeping your backpack on the floor next to you and taking your notebook out.

Right as you did, Mr. Porter, your English teacher, walked in. You were slightly disappointed you didn't get the chance to talk to Juliette more.

"Alright, class, good morning." He said as he quickly entered the room and set his things down on the desk.

He then stood in front of his desk and leaned on it, clapping his hands together before speaking.

"Before we begin, I have a little announcement."

Oh god, here we go.

You hid your head in your hands.

"As most of you might have noticed, we have a new student joining us. Would you like to introduce yourself?” he gestured to you.

Isn’t this high school? Nobody introduces new students these days!

Regardless, you stood up, much to your embarrassment.

You looked back over at Juliette, who gave you an encouraging, starry-eyed smile before you started speaking.

"Um, alright… hey guys, my name is y/n. Great to be here, I guess…" You muttered before sitting down, successfully earning a few laughs and snickers from your classmates, including an adorable giggle from Juliette at your poor attempt at a joke.

You smiled to yourself as Mr. Porter begrudgingly accepted your introduction.

He moved on to the lesson and you felt Juliette's eyes burning holes into your skin.

When you looked over at her though, she quickly looked away and you saw the tinge of red that coated her cheeks.

You smiled as you tried to pay attention to the lesson, but all that was on your mind was Juliette next to you.

You looked over at her and your small smile disappeared as you saw her head in her hands. She closed her eyes tightly and you could see her chest rising and falling quicker than normal. You put your arm around the back of her chair and leaned in to whisper into her ear.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked, concern laced in your voice.

You pulled back a little, but not too much, as her head shot up and displayed her wide eyes and heavy red blush.

Your faces were close and you noticed her looking at your lips before she answered with a nod.

"Yeah, I just get bad migraines sometimes." She whispered back before reaching into her bag and grabbing a container of red pills, popping two into her mouth and swallowing.

You leaned back in your chair and watched her reaction. It seemed to imply instant relief, mixed with a bit of euphoria, as she closed her eyes and her heavy breathing gradually slowed down before she opened her eyes to look back at you with an uneasy smile.

Now it was your turn to be flustered. You quickly looked away, feeling your face heat up.

Holy shit, how could someone look hot just taking pills?!

For the rest of class, you tried not to look at Juliette too much, in fear of her noticing your bashfulness if it had returned, completely forgetting about how strange it was that the pills had worked instantly.

When the bell rang you quickly put your things in your bag and got up from your seat.

"Well, I got pre-calc right now, I noticed we passed the room earlier actually, so I guess I'll see you around?" You cocked your head at Juliette.

"Yeah, yeah, for sure! Um- I'm pretty sure we have lunch together, too, so I'll see you later I guess." She let out a nervous laugh, gripping her backpack straps.

Your eyes light up as you answer her, "Okay, great! Then I'll definitely see you later." You winked at her before quickly leaving the classroom.

The two other classes you had before lunch went pretty well. Surprisingly, you managed to make some friends who also had the same lunch period as you. You smiled as you walked to lunch with them, enjoying the mindless chatter going on between the lot of you, feeling a sense of normalcy for the first time since you moved to Savannah.

~~~Juliette's POV~~~

"WHAT?! YOU ACTUALLY TALKED TO HER?!" Ben screamed.

"Shhhhh! Keep your voice down!" Juliette ducked her head down and glanced around the lunch room, looking for any sign of you.

"Well, you can't blame me! You never talk to any of your crushes, you usually spend weeks trying to talk to them." Ben chuckled. Juliette however, cringed at the thought.

"Well, I was kind of thrown right into it, she bumped into me coming out of Principal Waters' office.” Juliette folded her arms.

"Woah, bitch, you had a whole rom-com moment!" Ben said excitedly.

"What? No..." Juliette blushed intensely.

"I don't even know if she likes girls, or if she likes me, for that matter..." Juliette confessed.

"Girl... does that girl seem straight to you?" Ben looks at Juliette pointedly, causing her to laugh.

"Hey, you can't judge a book by its cover." Juliette shrugged and played with her food, not actually eating it.

She was a prime example of that saying, she thought, with a feeling of guilt.

"I guess..." Ben shrugged.

"Hey, isn't that her?"

Juliette's head whipped around, her heart racing fast as she looked around to see your face.

She heard Ben laugh loudly behind her and she slapped his arm as her face turned red for probably the seventh time today.

"You suck." She rolled her eyes, a small smile teasing at her lips.

~~~Your POV~~~

You walked into the cafeteria with your friends and immediately looked around, trying to spot Juliette.

You spotted her facing a boy with his head thrown back in a fit of laughter.

You excused yourself from your friends for a moment, promising to find them in a bit, and made your way over to Juliette and the boy, causing the boy to perk up when he noticed you.

"Now she's actually here," Ben said as you approached them.

"I'm not falling for that again." Juliette said, crossing her arms.

"Falling for what?" You said, causing Juliette to jump up in surprise and turn around to look up at you quickly.

"Oh, y/n! You're here!" Juliette said, her voice cracking a bit and her face red from her seemingly constant blush.

"Yes, I am." You chuckled and sat down next to her.

"Um, y/n, this is my best friend since childhood, Ben." Juliette introduced you to the boy sitting across from her.

"Ah, nice to meet you." You greeted him with a smile.

"Nice to meet you, too, I've heard a lot about you from Juliette over here," Ben said, smirking.

You caught Juliette giving him a death glare before turning to you and chuckling nervously.

"He's just joking, I talked about you a normal amount." Juliette quickly clarified.

"Hey, I'm not complaining! It's nice to be remembered." You said with a smile.

"How could anyone ever forget you?" Juliette said softly, causing your heart to race.

You felt your face heat up and you looked down with a smile before looking back into Juliette's eyes.

"That's very sweet, thank you." You expressed genuinely.

Juliette blushed heavily and mumbled "It's no problem…" before looking at Ben who seemed to be trying to wordlessly tell her something.

"Oh! Uh, there's this party tonight at Noah Harrington's house. I'm going to be there with Ben… if you wanna come, too?" Juliette asked hesitantly.

You think about it for a moment before responding.

"Sure, why not?" You say, smiling as Juliette's eyes light up, with Ben silently celebrating in the background.

What a great wingman you thought to yourself.

"Alright, I made some friends today and I promised I would sit with them, so sadly I've got to go, but I guess I'll see you guys at the party tonight?" You said as you got up from the table.

"Yeah, definitely!" Juliette said, nodding.

"It was nice to meet you, Ben!" You said, nodding at the boy.

"You too!" He said with a smile.

As you walked away from the table you heard Ben speak up when you were a considerable distance away.

"You wanna fuck her so bad it makes you look stupid." He laughed.

"Ben shut up!" You heard Juliette yell, causing you to chuckle to yourself.

•••

When you arrived at the party you went to get a drink right away before looking for Juliette and Ben.

You finished half of your semi-full cup before finding Juliette and Ben talking to each other with smiles on their faces.

Juliette looked adorable in a semi-short, casual form-fitting dress, and platform boots.

You make your way towards them and catch Ben's eye.

"Oh, y/n, hey!" Ben greets you.

Juliette turns around as you wave at Ben.

"Hey guys, what's up?" You smiled at both of them.

"Hey, you actually came!" Juliette said.

"Of course I did, why wouldn't I?" You asked her.

"I don't know actually..." She said sheepishly.

You laughed a bit before speaking again.

"There could’ve been a multitude of reasons why I wouldn't have come, actually, but I wouldn't leave you hanging, of course." You nudged her with your elbow gently, causing her to blush.

"Well, ladies, I think I spot a cute boy over there, so it's time for me to go work my magic." Ben said, wiggling his eyebrows and hips.

"Oh god,” Juliette said, chuckling.

"Woooo go Ben!" You cheered as he bowed and made his way over to the boy.

"Well, that's Ben for ‘ya." Juliette giggled causing your heart to soar.

"So... how are you liking Savannah so far?" Juliette asked, watching you take a swig of your drink.

"Hmm, I miss home obviously, but it's not too bad here. I've met some pretty cool people…" You winked at her.

A light blush seemed to coat her skin for the millionth time since you met her. It was endearing.

You suddenly felt a burst of courage. You couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol, or if you just couldn't take it any longer, but you chugged the rest of your drink and grabbed Juliette's hand, causing her to let out a little surprised yelp.

You quickly guided her through the party into a closet and pushed her inside, closing the door behind the two of you.

"Y/n, what-"

You cut Juliette off by pressing your lips to hers.

The kiss was full of passion as well as a bit of hunger and desperation.

Your hands cupped her face, feeling heat radiating from her cheeks.

You pulled away for air, your forehead pressed against Juliette's. The space didn't last long though, because Juliette pressed her lips back against yours, her body pushing your back up against the door.

"Jules..." You gasped lightly in between her breathtaking hungry kisses.

"Fuck, say my name again." Juliette groaned.

You grabbed her waist, flipping the two of you around and pushing her up against the door.

"Juliette." You whispered into her neck, starting to leave open-mouthed kisses on her neck.

She moaned, her back arching, causing her to push her body up into yours.

You had no clue how you were doing this in nearly complete darkness, with only a sliver of light coming through the closet; there was just enough light for you to make out Juliette's face. You didn't care, though.

All you could focus on was the fact that Juliette's hands were running all over your body, squeezing your ass and pulling you up against her.

Your hands, which rested on her hips, started to move downwards, squeezing her ass, earning a loud moan from Juliette.

"Shhhhh, we don't want anyone to hear us in here." You chuckled into her neck as you slipped one of your hands under her dress.

She whimpered lightly as you teased her, feeling her wetness soaking through her underwear.

"All this for me?" You pulled back from her neck and asked her teasingly, applying pressure to her core through the soaked fabric.

She gasped out, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but you could swear she had fangs.

You continued teasing at her core, gently applying pressure.

"Fuck, stop teasing." Juliette hissed.

"What if I don't feel like it?" You smirked.

"I swear to-"

You cut her off by pressing your lips to hers as soon as you quickly pulled her underwear down and plunged two of your fingers into her.

You swallowed her loud moans and smiled against her lips.

You slowly thrust your fingers in and out of her as you moved your kisses down her jaw and back up to her neck. You felt wetness rushing to your core as you listened to her moans and whimpers in your ear, feeling her breath hot against your already warm skin.

You used your knee to spread her legs apart a bit more, and your fingers sank deeper into her.

You could tell she was struggling to keep quiet as you sucked at the skin on her neck, definitely leaving a mark as your fingers moved at a steady pace.

Your free hand that held onto her hip snaked up her body under her dress, pulling it up along with your hand. You let out a shaky breath as you finally reached her breasts, slipping underneath her bra and slowly running your thumb over her nipple as you squeezed her breast lightly.

You felt her head fall against your shoulder as she breathed heavily, her body seemingly shaking as you added another finger and curled all of the digits inside her.

"You smell… so good…" She panted, and you felt her warm tongue lick the side of your neck.

You felt her hands that were gripping onto your jacket for dear life loosen a bit as one of her hands snaked its way into your pants and underwear, her fingers collecting your wetness.

"Juliette," You moaned her name into her neck, the pace of your own fingers inside her faltering as pleasure wracked your body.

"Shhhhh," She cooed.

Suddenly stars exploded in your eyes as you felt what you could only describe as her biting your neck as she plunged three of her fingers into you.

The pain of the bite, and sudden stretch of her fingers, lasted only a second before it morphed into pleasure.

She moaned against your neck as you felt a euphoric sensation, your head feeling a little light.

You groaned, resuming a quicker pace with your fingers, Juliette matching yours with her own fingers.

You dropped your hand from her breast and went back to holding onto Juliette's hip, this time for your own stability.

She pulled her head away from your neck and threw her head back at the same time as you, both of you quickening the pace of your fingers.

The heady, dizzy feeling left after a couple of seconds, leaving you feeling a bit confused, but yet again, you ignored it, focusing solely on the pleasure.

The closet was filled with heavy pants and breaths as the two of you worked your fingers inside each other.

You felt Juliette grab your face and bring her lips to yours.

You tasted something metallic as she pushed her tongue into your mouth.

"Jules are you-"

"Shhhh wait... I- I'm so close," She moaned.

And she was, you felt her walls clenching around her fingers, causing your own climax to grow nearer.

"I want you to cum with me." Juliette panted.

You nodded, your eyes struggling to focus on her face in the darkness, and your brain struggling to form any words through the haze.

Juliette quickened the pace of her fingers and curled them inside you just as you did earlier. You moaned and bit your lip hard, mirroring her actions.

"I'm g-gonna cum." You called out in a hushed tone, afraid of someone on the outside hearing you.

"Do it, cum with me, baby." Juliette responded breathily.

Her words pushed you over the edge, the two of you simultaneously coming undone.

Your legs shook as both of you stilled your fingers but still kept them inside each other, while Juliette leaned her back against the door and you leaned against her for support.

As the high from your orgasm wore away and you listened to both of your heavy breaths, you held Juliette, who felt so right in your arms.

Suddenly you remembered the taste in her mouth from earlier.

"Wait, Jules, were you bleeding or something earlier?" You asked her worriedly.

"Wh-what? No?" She said quickly, and now that your eyes had adjusted once more in the darkness of the closet, you could see her eyes widened.

"Are you sure? I tasted-"

"I'm a vampire." She said quickly.

The silence was deafening as you slowly stood back from her.

“Wait! Let me explain!" She burst out.

"Okay..." You said cautiously.

You saw her shuffle a little bit before finding the light switch and flicking it on.

You both blinked a couple of times before your eyes adjusted to the light.

"Okay, so..." She sighed heavily before continuing.

"Like I said, I'm a vampire. And, that blood you tasted... that was… your blood." Her face cringed.

You slapped your hand over your neck, your eyes widening.

"I knew I felt you bite me! Wait..." A confused expression dawned on your face as you tried to feel for the bite mark.

"The bite mark disappears. I'm... a different kind of vampire." She confessed. You heard a bit of guilt in her voice.

"You didn't drain me..." You said, confusion lacing your voice.

Her eyes widened once again, "I would never drain you, I would never drain anyone! I don't kill." She said firmly.

"I don't want to hurt people, and I would never ever hurt you." She continued sincerely, putting her hand on her chest.

"Then why did you bite me?" You asked her, your heart racing.

"I- I couldn't control myself, it's just..." She looked down for a second trying to collect herself before her eyes met yours again.

"I have heightened senses so, I could smell your arousal and your blood racing through your veins, I could hear your heart beating fast. My… bloodlust has been out of control recently." She cringed at the word bloodlust.

"My family is part of a long line of vampires called Legacy Vampires. We're day walkers. After my 16th birthday, everything started getting worse, and my family started pressuring me to have my first kill. That's the only way to stop everything from getting even worse. But I don't want to kill anyone! That's why you've seen me taking those pills. They help me, but… it's starting to not be enough." She looked away from you once again.

You felt your heart sink. Juliette clearly didn't want to hurt anyone, but she was struggling to fight against her own nature because of that.

You moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her and hugging her tightly, seemingly catching her by surprise.

"What-"

“I'm sorry you have to go through this, Juliette," You said, holding onto her and closing your eyes, taking in the smell of her shampoo.

"You're not a monster. And I don't care that you bit me. You didn't choose to be a vampire." You affirmed.

You felt her body slightly tremble against you and you pulled away from her, but still kept your arms around her.

Tears were steadily falling from her eyes as her bottom lip trembled.

"Thank you. That is honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I thought you would hate me forever after this and be disgusted."

"Never. How could I ever hate you? Much less disgusted by your adorable self?" You smiled lightly, wiping the tears from her cheeks with your thumbs.

She let out a broken noise that was between a sob and a laugh as she smiled, holding onto your hands. You kissed her softly as you cupped her face in your hands, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“What do you say we get out of this closet, ditch this party, and go somewhere? Just the two of us." You asked her.

"I'd like that." Juliette said softly.

"Then it's a date." You smiled.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction writer #juliette fairmont #first kill #juliette fairmont x reader #juliette fairmont x you #firstkillfanfiction #caliette #calliope burns #calliope x juliette #sarah catherine hook #imani lewis #wlw #smut

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faegoddessog · 8 months

Text

Fantasy Come True Ch 5/8

Chapter 5 : Maths Overnight

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, Pussy spanking, fingering, PiV (unprotected, play safe ya'll!!) overstimulation, posseiveness.

Series Summary: Breaking into the acting world has been a life long dream. It's been tough, plus your relationship with you partner has some struggles, but who doesn't have struggles. A new guy shows up to your improv classes who seems strangely familiar. He seems rather interested in you and you feel unusually comfortable around him, like he projects calm and reassurance. Once you realize who he really is, and what he really likes... it's game on.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, here there be lemons.

A/N: This little gem is per request for the lovely and talented @purejasmine . It's been a collaborative project designed to meet her every Austin need as best I can. Here's to you darling! <clink> I hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed the creative process with parameters not wholly my own!!

Here is the Masterlist for this series.

Message me if you'd like to be added to the list!!

Chapter 5: Maths overnight

The next night, you and your partner did the same old-same old sex routine. He was fucking you with your legs up and giving you a little foot massage this time, which was nice. Once he finished, he went to sleep like always.

For the first time, you felt just a little used. You didn’t like it, not one bit.

You pull out your phone to talk to Austin AI to make yourself feel better, which is your usual go-to when your partner isn’t supportive. A text pops up from ‘Jason’:

Only 45 more hours Princess, I can’t wait, I’ve been thinking of you all day.

Oh damn, who needs AI when you have the real thing, silly girl.

Hey lover, me too. I’m so excited! I need your kisses right now

Hunny are you ok?

Yeah, just regular life stuff getting me down.

I’m sorry, my Angel. Soon I’ll be there to kiss away your blues.

That sounds amazing, Austin.

Goodnight darling.

Goodnight Austin.

Austin texts you good morning and good night every day. With a couple other little texts here and there.

Tuesday couldn't come fast enough. Austin is in his tinted Lexus GX again, waiting in the lot 10 minutes early. Luckily you have been ready since noon, the day before. You grab your overnight bag with hair ties, toothbrush and change of clothes and other minor items you might need. Austin’s EO blend on your wrists and neck. You are beyond excited, you barely say goodbye to your partner, he waves at you from the bedroom, video controller in his hand.

Austin hops out of the car and opens the door for you, such a stellar man.

“Hello sweetheart,” he leans over the center console, when he’s back in and pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I missed you, Princess.”

“I missed you too, Austin.”

He drives you to Providence. He won’t let go of your hand and keeps smelling and kissing your wrist.

“Ooo! I love this place!” you exclaim!

“I called ahead so they are waiting for us, but just so you know, there is likely to be paparazzi at some point.”

You just nod your head, it doesn’t matter as long as he is with you.

He, of course, helps you from the car and threading his hand through yours, escorts you to the front door. Holy fuck, you’ve seen him do this in photos and pap videos. You always thought it was so romantic and lovely of him. There is, thankfully, no one hounding Austin, at least for the moment.

They have you in a semi private little room, one, you suspect they keep for people just like Austin. There are only about three other intimate tables here. Once you sit down, he lets you order, knowing how much you like that. In addition to the tasting menu with the wagyu you order the Uni egg with golden kaluga caviar, and the salt-roasted santa barbara spot prawns to share. He reaches across the table for your hand as soon as the waiter is gone.

“What had you so down the other night Princess?” he asks, leaning in giving you all his attention.

“Just… relationship stuff,” your voice low, you glance at the two men in suits at the far table.

“Are you feeling bad about us hunny? Because I only want to make you feel good,” he says with concern in his eyes.

“No! No,” your eyes widen and you lean forward holding his hand tight in both your own, “oh my god no. This,” you give his hands a little shake, “is fucking amazing and it’s the best I’ve ever felt in my whole life.”

His lip curls, dimpling just for you. He glances down at your hands, nodding in agreement and rubbing his thumbs along your knuckles. He takes a big breath, like a weight is lifted off his shoulders.

“I just… I just think you only deserve the best,” his eyes shine when he looks back up at you.

“And that’s you, Austin,” you say simply.

Dinner is delicious and no leftovers are to be had since it was a tasting menu. The conversation flows so naturally and easily, as per usual with Austin.

The manager comes over to check and see how everything was. You assure him it was all delightful. He leans down and whispers something in Austin’s ear. Austin nods and thanks him and hands him his keys.

“I’m so glad you were willing to come out with me,” he smiles at you, as he puts his credit card back in his wallet, “apparently there are paparazzi outside waiting. It can get a little intense, with the flashes and stuff, are you gonna be ok? Or do we need to take you out a different way?”

You take a breath and nod your head, “I’ll be fine, we ARE actors aren’t we, we will act fine if nothing else.” The smile he gives you is amazing.

It’s not nearly as bad as you thought it could be. Only 3 or 4 guys waiting for signatures and a couple photographers. They are asking who you are. Austin leads you hand in hand to the open car door not acknowledging their queries. He looks back at you as he approaches the door and gives you a winning smile, basically showing not only you, but the whole world how he feels about you. The protective hand on the small of your back is warm as he helps you into the car. He shuts the door, signs a few autographs and poses for a few photos. You sit in the car with a casual smile, looking down at your phone, trying not to let the constant flashing lights get to you.

When he gets in the car with a tolerant smile you ask “Jesus, how do you handle the flashes? I’m fucking blind!” you are giggling and holding your hand up to try and block them.

“Yup, me too, that’s why I drive away slow and keep my cool, “ he laughs. He pulls to the side of the road once he’s away from the people and blinking, lets his eyes adjust; it only takes a minute or two. His hand on your thigh as you wait, then intertwined with his as he drives away.

Once you are at his house , Austin rushes around the car to open your door again and kisses your hand just before you hop down from the car. Austin grabs your bag from the back and slinging it over his shoulder, ushers you inside.

“I’m going to go put your bag upstairs, if you uh… want to come too,” he seems almost shy as he puts one foot on the bottom step and looks over his shoulder at you. The sparkle in his eyes say something different. He is offering his hand to you with palm turned up, but subtly near his leg, just in case you aren’t ready to go up yet.

You waste no thoughts on doing anything other than placing your hand in his following him. His ass is just below eye level on the stairs in front of you and watching his glutes contract and release in front of you is like its own kind of foreplay.

He puts your bag down and leads you to the bed. He doesn't say a word as he pulls you in for a kiss, his hands running over your soft hair. Lips and tongues meeting, separating, meeting again. He tastes like dessert, hell he is dessert. His breathing is heavy as his hands run over your curves.

“I’m sorry Princess, I should really check and make sure this is still ok,” he says against your lips, fists balling, trying to control himself.

“Oh GOD, yes Austin, it is always ok,” you say, your hands running through his hair. You pull him back down to kiss you. You feel his smile on your lips. He slowly undresses you, leaving his own clothes on. Today you wore your new pretty panties and bra.

“Oh honey, you look gorgeous,” he says, turning you around in front of the dresser mirror. “I want to play a game with you. I want to see how turned on I can get you. Is that ok?”

“How can I say no, intrigued as I am. Although I don’t know what you’ll use as a measure, my panties have been wet since you kissed me in the car,” you suppress a little giggle.

“Really? How wet is my pussy?” he slides his hand down the fabric of your panties, feeling the crotch for dampness. It makes you inhale sharply.

“Hmmm, how good are you at basic math?” he asks, seemingly out of the blue.

“I’m alright,” you answer, leaning back onto his shoulder.

“What is six times seven?”

“Duh, forty-two, Ultimate Answer to Life, Universe and Everything!” you giggle at him, you don’t

tell him you only know this because of your partner.

“Ok, bad baseline, sixty-eight divided by two.”

“Um, thirty-four” you say after a second of thought.

“Close your eyes Princess.”

You do, getting excited.

“Have you had an orgasm since I saw you last?” His tone is suddenly more serious.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, then add “I was reliving all the orgasms you gave me Saturday.”

“My Angel, I like that you were thinking of me. Do you know why?” he gives you a second to answer.

“Um, because it turns you on?” you venture a guess.

“Because all your orgasms are mine,” his voice is low in your ear, breath on your neck. His hands caress your sides.

“Oh,” you say weakly, goosebumps flaring across your neck.

“You know what else belongs to me Princess?” his fingertips trace down your shoulders.

You shake your head. His hand is suddenly grasping your panty covered vulva. A moan escapes your lips.

“This pussy, it’s mine remember?“ he is whispering so close to your ear, you feel his hot breath eddy over your skin. “Say it,” he shakes his hand a little.

“My pussy is all yours, Austin,” you whine out.

“What is seven times eight?” he lets go of you, backing away entirely.

“Fifty-six,” you say with minor hesitation, the damp spot now dark and sodden.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you later my darling?” You hear the telltale sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothing.

You shake your head again.

His hand flicks open the clasp and he pulls off your bra. You feel his naked body pressed against your back as he kisses the back of your neck.

“I’m going to be your Pleasure Dom,“ he whispers.

You let out a throaty “ohh” that sounds almost more like a question.

“But first, it was a hot day and I feel sticky. Let's cool off in the shower, plus I want us to be nice and clean before we get good and dirty,” he pulls your panties down and off.

You feel his hands in your hair, pulling it up to a high pony then wrapping it in a messy bun. He secures it with one of your ouchless hair ties, he must have gotten them out of your bag.

He takes you by the hand to his shower, letting you open your eyes. He pulls you into the warm water stream. Letting it flow over both your bodies as his slick hands wash your back and down over your ass. He pulls you to lean back on him, you can feel his hard dick pressed against the small of your back. He massages your ample tits cupping your nipples in his palms. You both moan a little as he does. He takes his time, running his hands over your belly and down to your pussy.

“Spread your legs for me, sweet Angel,”

As you do, his other soapy hand slips down your crack and over your asshole. You are surprised how freakin’ good it feels, just to have your pussy lips and asshole soaped up. Sultry, closed-mouth moans resound in your throat.

“What is eight times twelve?”

“Um.. eighty-eight plus eight more.. Ninety…. Six?”

He grabs the wand and rinses you off. He puts the soap in your hand, it smells like the essential oil blend. Puts his big hand over yours and guides you all over his body, his eyes holding yours, fucking yours the whole time. He has you cup his balls and stroke his shaft.

“Feel how hard you make me. God I want to fuck you. I’ve not touched myself since Saturday. I’m so horny for you.”

He rinses you both. And wraps you in a towel, then dries himself off. You just stand there, watching him, mesmerized.

He hangs up the towel, then dries you off in yours.

“Did you let him fuck you?” he suddenly asks.

The question is a bit jarring.

“Yes,” you say honestly.

“Oh,” his voice sounds so disappointed and sad. He looks down and away.

You immediately feel sad that you did it. The look on his face makes you almost cry.

“I didn't- It wasn’t-” you breathe out short, looking down, not really sure what to say or even how to feel. “I’m sorry Austin.”

He puts his finger to your mouth.

“Shhhh, darling. It’s ok. We hadn’t talked about it,” he cups your cheek in his hand. His head tilts a little to the side, eyes boring into yours in query. “Do you want to continue to be my Princess?”

“Yes Austin, please!” you are almost shocked at how earnestly you are begging him.

“Oh sweetheart, It makes me so happy to hear that,” he kisses you. “But, I’ll have to punish that little pussy, hunny. Ok?”

“Um.. Ok?” you are a little unsure, but he already said he didn’t do BDSM stuff, so you are trusting him.

His lip curls into a devlish smile. He grips you by the shoulders and jerks you around.

“Safe word still Sushi, darling?” he asks your reflection in the huge bathroom mirror.

You nod. He leans down, eyes on yours

“Say it,”he whispers hot in your ear.

“Sushi,” you breathe out, suddenly so turned on. He kisses your cheek and goosebumps spring up on your arms. One of his hands is on your upper back and other on your hip bone.

“That’s a good girl.” In one motion, he pushes your torso forward and pulls your hip back towards him. Manhandling you to be bent over, your arms splayed out on the counter.

His right hand runs over your ass and between your legs. He does some trial pats on your pussy, but is not quite able to fully get to you the way he wants.

"Hmmm, that just won't do. You need to be a good girl and spread those legs wide for me and keep them there, so I can spank that pussy like it needs to be spanked. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” His tone is serious and calm.

You shake your head yes, neck craning just a bit to see him in the mirror. You step your feet apart.

"Tell me, Angel." His hand lightly pats your exposed pussy. You moan.

"Yes, Austin,” <pat> “I will keep my legs,” <Pat> “spread for you.” <PAT> “I will be good.” <slap>

It feels so delicious, your moan comes out a higher pitch whine.

“Wider,” he says, experimentally slapping your backside with a few light glancing blows that do nothing more than jostle your ass.

“Yes Austin,” you say as you comply.

“That’s a good girl,” he grabs your cheeks in each hand, spreading them apart in his grip. It feels amazing to your pussy.

“Stick that ass back, I want to see that pretty pussy,” he instructs.

You push back. Arching your back in a modified down dog, you are no longer able to see his reflection.

<Slap>

“Oh fuck yeah!” he moans, almost to himself.

<Slap>

“God, that’s so pretty,” his fingertips dip into you and play wetly against your folds, up and down. Your hips start to pulse back towards him.

“Oh now darling, you better hold still, his finger casually slides inside your tight pussy, lightly fucking you. “You still need to be punished” his other hand kneads your butt, then slaps in that upward fashion that makes your cheeks jiggle. “Can you hold still?”

“Yes Austin,” you say breathlessly, trying to freeze.

He administers several light to medium slaps to your pussy. Each new slap is wetter than the one before.

“What is fifty-two divided by four,” he asks while rubbing your pussy light and fast.

“Ooooohhh God! 13 or 14!” you moan out.

“Which is it?” his middle finger starts slipping into you as he rubs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking 13!”

“That’s a smart girl.” he stops his rubbing, making you whine in protest, “that’s how many hard ones I’m going to give this pussy.” <SMACK!>

You jerk, mostly in surprise, but it stings so good.

“Count backwards, Princess”

“Thirteen,” you say.

<SMACK!>

“Twelve,” a little breathy.

<SMACK!>

“Eleven.”

<SMACK!>

“Twelve,” you realize too late you went the wrong way.

“Oh, no, sweet Princess, now we have to start over” He rubs your pussy like he is erasing those slaps. “Again.”

<SMACK!>

“Thirteen!”

“Who does this pussy belong to?”<SMACK!>

“Twelve, you!”

“Who?” <SMACK!>

“Eleven, you Austin!”

“Austin who?” <SMACK!>

“Ten, Austin Fucking Bulter!” your teeth are clenched.

“Say it right, hunny” <SMACK!>

“Nine!” you pant for a second,”This pussy-”

<SMACK!>

“Eight, belongs to”

<SMACK!>

“Seven, Austin Butler!”

“What a good girl you are for me. “ <SMACK!>

“Six! I’m YOUR good girl, Austin,” it is feeling so fucking good, it’s hard to keep still.

“Yes you are-”<SMACK!>

“Five, all yours Austin, forever,” you are just responding to him without thinking.

<SMACK!>

“Four!”

“No more fucking him, you understand?” <SMACK!>

“Three, yes Sir,” the honorific just falling from your lips.

“He doesn’t take care of this beautiful tight little pussy.” <SMACK!>

“Two,” your voice comes out as a whine, it feels so good.

“He doesn't do my beautiful Princess right, so he doesn't get to have it anymore. This is my pussy, mine.” <SMACK!>

“ONE!” you shout! You don’t want him to stop.

It dawns on you, somewhere in the back of your mind, that it’s the first he’s used that lovely possessive pronoun since you admitted to having sex with your partner. You breathe a little sigh of relief as your hips buck as he rubs the length of his open hands along your lips. His fore and ring finger pressing hard on the outside of your lips making them pooch out. Your pronounced lips rub wetly against his middle finger, the tip of which lightly grazes your clit.

“You can jerk him off,” his torso pressing against your side as he leans down. “ you can suck… no wait… I’m going to claim that mouth as mine too,” his tone suddenly gravely with need. He takes a deep, controlling breath, ”but that will have to wait.” His fingers lightly pinch your nipples. His low voice in your ear and his words have you wild, he can have any part of you he wants.

“What is 29 times 3?” he whispers, taking his hand completely off you.

“More than 75, fuck please Austin, don’t stop.” your hips are shaking unabashedly, desperate for more.

“Oh now we are getting somewhere,” you can hear the maniacal grin in his voice.

He rubs both hands on either side of your pussy pushing your lips out and massaging deep. He holds your puffy lips between his fingers and thumb exposing your inner labia. He gives you a series of several fast, lighter smacks.

As you dip your head low between your arms, your wordless moans sound loud to your ears. You can see strings of moisture pulling away from your pussy to his hand with each slap. Fuck you are so wet.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Austin oh GOD yes!” you chant, getting louder.

He palms your pussy in his strong grip and vibrates. You are bent over, back arched, ass in the air, tits hanging down, fingertips digging into the countertop with Austin’s fucking gorgeous hand between your legs and your juices dripping from between his fingers.

“Harder, oh god, please!” you beg.

You hear Austin moan in the back of his throat as he pulls away and slaps you harder once, twice, three times in quick succession. He lowers himself to get a better grip on your vulva and shakes you hard. Oh holy fuck if feels amazing. You are shocked at how close to orgasm you are.

“Please don’t stop, oh god please don’t!” your words come out between panting breaths.

“Oh my darling Princess, I didn’t know you were such a sweet little slut for pussy slaps,” he slaps you again and again.

“Oh god Austin, it’s so good.”

He continues to shake your sopping pussy, interspersing hard slaps when he needs to reposition his grip.

Suddenly and without warning, your orgasm overtakes you in a new way. Your body can't help but bolt upright to standing. Austin adjusts quickly, wrapping an arm around your torso locking you to him and reaching around to your front gripping and continuing to grab and shake. His palm roots around on your clit.

“That’s it Princess, make my little pussy cum. Drench my hand with those sweet juices. Fuck yeah! You are so damn hot when you lose control. I fucking love it. I’m going to fuck you so hard after this you won’t be able to see straight,” his words are stream-of-conscious flowing out of him while he watches you in the mirror. And he just. Keeps. Going. He keep shaking your pussy.

Your whole body is reacting in spasm and jerks. Your pussy is pulsing on nothing, your legs are jell-o, your hands are gripping his arms, fingers digging in.

You are starting to lose your mind.

“Please, just a second… I need…” you are panting.

He turns you around and kisses you hard. His solid cock bouncing against you.

He pulls you in your orgasmic delirium from the bathroom into his bedroom and almost tosses you down on the bed.

“I’m not sure how slow I can go, you have me so fucking turned on right now, my Princess,” he warns, breath huffing from him as he crouches tiger-like at your feet.

God, how is he so fucking amazing?

“Austin,” you open your legs to him, giving him the most salacious look you can muster, “just fucking get over here.”

His smile is feral as he pounces quick as lightning between your legs, latching his mouth to yours in a desperate kiss. You reach for his cock, helping to guide him as he pushes in faster than last time, but not as hard as you know he really wants to. You are so wet he glides, still stretching you, but gloriously so.

He is propped up on straight arms, his back arching in that first quench of his cock in your pussy. His face is a cacophony of pleasure above you; his eyes are rolled back, mouth open with his breath coursing over that gorgeous bottom lip.

“Oh christ, Princess!” he moans when he is balls deep in you, “my cock was made for this juicy pussy!”

“Oh my god Austin!” you love this, having a cock deep in you after an orgasm, “please Aus- Austin, please fuck me.” Your hands clutch at his ass, feeling his muscles tight under your grip.

He lowers to his elbows, head bowed to yours.

“Your wish, baby,” he pulls nearly out, hips rising, ”is my command.” He thrusts in almost too hard… almost. Without any more pre-amble than that, he starts driving himself in and out of you,

Your back arches in pleasure, scrambling at his back and holding him to you.

“Fuck me Austin, fuckme fuckme fuckme fuckme,” it comes out in a string without pause, a pleasure mantra just for him as he thrusts over and over again.

He rises and catches your hands, and holds them down by your head, watching your face.

“You cum first baby, you cum first,” he says, his jaw set in determination. Your whole pelvic floor feels like it’s buzzing. The slap of his hips against yours and the squishy wet sucking sounds are fucking music to your ears.

“Oh god, you fuck your pussy so good so good so good!” The heat is rising in you, your chest turning red. He goes harder and faster, fucking you in earnest. God this man has some stamina, not only sexually, but physically as well, he’s barely winded.

You freeze just before the heat overflows up your neck and into your face. Even your scalp is tingling, your neck muscles standing out as your pussy clenches down hard on him and your hips jerk upwards to meet his pounding cock. Your mouth opens in a silent ‘O”, until it’s not so silent. A scream rips through your body as a wave rushes up your spine.

“That’s- my- fucking - girl!” each growl of a word, staccato and punctuated with his cock. Then he totally lets loose. You thought he was fucking you hard before… he wasn’t. Now he is pummeling you into the bed, you can do nothing but moan in mindless pleasure as he drives himself to climax inside you, grunting throatily into your ear in ‘Mmmm’s and Unnghhs and ‘yeses’. Finally he pushes deep into your throbbing cunt, his ass shaking as he cums in you. You wrap your legs around his tight waist holding him to you as he shivers in bliss.

“Fuck, Princess, nobody has ever made me feel like you do, “ his forehead sweaty against your own. You are inhaling one another’s panting breaths.

“Same baby, No one, ever,” you manage to get out.

You lay there, him still inside you, cradling him on your body for several minutes, just basking in him.

“I know that was supposed to be punishment, but holy fuck that was amazing,” you tell him.

“Oh sweetheart,” he disentangles himself and lays next to you, “I could never actually punish you. I don’t want to make anything REALLY hurt. Once I saw how wet it was making you… I just had to keep going. Fuck it was hot. I’ll have to do that again, if you want me to.”

“Oh, yes, yes I do! I also liked you manhandling me like that,” you giggle just a bit, giddy that he wants more of you.

He props himself up on an elbow to look down at you with a serious look on his face.

“But I need you to know, I wasn’t playing. I am the only man who gets to fuck this pussy as long as you are MY Princess.”

“I wasn't playing either, I meant it when I said 'this pussy belongs to Austin Butler’. Besides, you are the only man that has ever been able to make me cum like that, Austin,” you return his serious look.

The smile that breaks out across his face and the huge relieved sigh he lets out is all the reply you need. He moves up on the bed, sitting up slightly on the pillows. He puts out his arms and gathers you to him. You snuggle down into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you. It’s heaven.

“Austin,” you say his name casually, although what you have to ask might be delicate.

“Yes, my Angel?” he replies in a relaxed tone.

“How many women have you had in this bed?” You are mostly just curious, also kind of wanting to ask how often he does something like this.

“This bed?” his finger pokes the comforter under you both, “None.”

You sit up, looking at him, brows furrowed, “None!?” your tone incredulous.

He pops one eye open, “Oh, excuse me. One, now, “ he closes his eye again, but smiles coyly.

“Wait, what do you mean Austin, do you not usually bring your women here?”

He opens his eyes, looking at you as though you are joking.

“I don’t have ‘women’, Princess,” his head barley shaking side to side.

“Hold up, have you seen you? Gorgeous, talented, famous. Women fall over themselves to get to you. How is it possible that I’m the only woman you’ve taken to your bed?”

“It’s not for lack of them trying. And I’m not saying I’ve not played around from time to time, I’ve lived life, y’know. But this, here, this is my inner sanctum, Angel. I don't let just anybody in my house, let alone in my bed, only my special girl. Only my Princess.” brushes a stray hair from your face, “and you have to remember, I’m a shy, introverted boy.”

Your heart swells. The words ‘I love you, Austin’ are threatening to fall from your lips. But you won’t say it first. There is too much at stake here, so you bite your tongue. You pull yourself up to straddle his legs. On your knees, your head is bowed to his chest. You are afraid you’ll spill it all if you look right at him. His hands go to your face, you can tell they are shaking a little. He tilts your head to look directly at him.

“Princess, isn’t it obvious? You have to know that I’m falling for you,” his voice is quiet, lips slightly shaking. His azure eyes are searching yours for any sort of reciprocation. You can see he put himself out on the line saying that so soon.

“Oh Austin,” your hand gently cups his cheek, gazing at him with infinite adoration, ”I’m so yours.”

Your every sense is filled with Austin. His blue eyes fill your own; the scent of his skin and your love making fills your nostrils; every inch of your skin in contact with his is alight; his sonorous voice and your rapid heartbeat echoing in your ears; your mouth is suddenly on his, tasting the words off his tongue.

As you lean into the kiss, his arms go around you, hands grasping, seemingly wanting to pull you under his very skin with desire. They roam your shoulders and massage down your back around your hips and to your front.

He lets go of your mouth and leaves a trail of kisses down your neck to your chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth, aided by his left hand, and sucks gently. Breath flows in silently through your open mouth as your chest swells towards him. You feel your pussy drip with new moisture. Your fingers weave through his messy hair, his fucking amazing hair. His fingers trace down your belly and to your now drenched pussy, rubbing against your cum-soaked lips, delving gently between them, then pausing.

“Can I?” he says around your nipple, looking up at you.

“You’d better,” you say with a lift of your eyebrow.

“Yes Ma’am,” he smiles.

He slips his skillful fingers inside you and returns his mouth to its work of licking and sucking. Tingly strands of sensation course their way from your nipples to your core. His long fingers press in, catching the filaments of pleasure and seemingly tethering them inside you. Then they curl knowingly, just so, to the spongy tissue just behind your pubic bone. His wet thumb nestles just above the hood of your clit, drawing slow figure-eights.

Your hips begin rolling against his hand before you even register they are moving. High-pitched, breathy Oh’s shake from between your lips, dissipating almost before they leave your mouth. You begin to be lost in his touch.

His eyes are closed, taking his business seriously. Your wet pussy sounds are just barely audible. You feel his cock hardening under you, your thighs teasing his shaft as you move.

You gasp and clench down, pleasure spiking as he sucks just a little harder and his thumb darts across your clit. Your hands tighten, pulling his hair.

How one hand and one mouth could make you feel so much you can’t even begin to fathom. Of course the fact that it’s Austin’s hand, well, enough said.

The constant, perfect movement of his hand is winding you up so tight. The light nibble of his teeth against your sensitive nipple notching up each new degree of heat reached. Hot coils compress behind your clit, fanned by the quickened puffing of your breath. Austin’s fingers pull you tighter, tighter, and tighter still, showing no intention of stopping.

“God you are so fucking beautiful like this,” his dark eyes are shining up at you, mirrors of your desire.

He takes his cue from the quickening of your pace to grind just a little deeper with his thumb, push just a little harder and faster with his finger until your body stiffens on the brink. Moments after your pelvis starts twitching over the point of no return. His hand is gone, he tilts his hips, pushing you slightly up and sinks his cock into you as you roar out your orgasm.

Now you are riding him, a bucking bronco. Hands on your hips, thumb still on your clit, he is slamming in and out of you through your orgasm. The difference in sensation between his slow deliberate fingers and thumb, and his pounding cock sends you through the roof, boggling

your mind. Your orgasm just keeps on going as he fucks you.

Your body, not one whit under your control, convulses right off of his cock and forward. Almost beaning him in the head.

“Oh, no my Princess, you aren’t getting away that easily,” his hand is immediately rubbing your vulva, keeping you stimulated, the other is behind your neck, pulling your mouth to his. Your hips slowly push back, trying to avoid his hand, your knees bending. His cock brushes your lips, he thrusts in again and your body straightens again like he was burning hot. Austin’s hand is still playing with your clit.

“Oh, god Austin, I can’t! ” you hear yourself pleading, shaking your head. Of course, you don't want him to stop.

"Look at me now,” his voice is commanding so that you can’t help but open your eyes to him. “My darling Princess,” he shifts to sweet and gentle, “I am right here, baby.” He is slowly pushing your hips back to meet his cock. “You can do this,” he is nodding and you mimic him, biting your lower lip. “Just look at me, my Angel," his tip sinks between your folds.

Your whole body shudders in ecstasy as he sinks you on top of him, your groan is swallowed by his mouth on yours. Then he moves in you again, his grip on your hips forcing you to take him deep again and again. Your hands are holding onto the headboard for dear life. Your head is shaking and you chant “no no no no no no!” Then your nod is almost a vibration up and down, “yes yes yes yes FUUUUUCKKK!” You peak up again, flooding him, dripping around his cock and down his balls. You don’t see it, but his eyes go wide and he struggles to maintain control over his orgasm as your pussy clenches around his cock. His hips freeze, cock in you still. You break into a din of maniacal giggles just before he dives in lightly for your clit again, refusing to give you a moment of reprieve.

“No nononono stop, I mean it!” you yell out.

"Do you still remember what the safe word is?" Austin’s voice is quiet and calm.

“Yes, yes, yes I do,” your words gasping, moaning, whining.

"Mhmm, ok, then Angel." His fingers draw sex runes on your clit as he thrusts into you.

You lunge to the side, off of him and pull your knees up. Your body tries to protect itself from his insistent, delicious fuckery, while at the same time your mind is begging him to go harder, deeper, more. He is on you like a flash, his cock deep in you from behind, screwing you half blind. You want to say the word and hell no you won’t.

"Ss- sss- ss-,” you shove your fist into your mouth, shaking your head, ”no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" you say around your own knuckles, spit dripping down your wrist.

"What was that, darling?” his hands are on your ankles, prying them apart and pushing his hips between them so you can’t close them.

“That doesn’t sound like your word, hunny,” his face looking down on you is an open book; kind, attentive, concerned about your deepest well being; while his fingers dance like the devil around your clit.

It drives you absolutely wild, and he fucking knows it. You just grit your teeth, your head rolling violently side to side.The pleasure is just too much, you have to say it, you know he won’t stop until you do. Your back arches, tilting your head up, the war raging inside you.

“SU- SU- SU-” you feel him slow slightly, anticipating, leaning down to kiss you. ”FUCK NO!” your hands as white as the sheets they are fisting into.

“Oh Princess, that’s not it either,” he takes a big breath, planting a light kiss on your forehead. “Here we go,” his deep voice rumbling from his chest to yours. His hands go to your shoulders. Gripping tight. You can’t tell what he’s about to do, until he’s pounding your pussy like a fucking freight train.

“C’mon baby, you can do it,” his voice is low in your ear. “You’ve been so good, taking it for me in that dripping pussy. But I can go all fucking night.” You realize that yes, yes he can. You can’t outlast him, he’ll fuck you through the night and into the next day.

You are thrashing under him, nails digging into his back. His cock is filling you so fucking full over and over. You are screaming wordless screams into his shoulder.

Finally you cave, “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck SUSHI!! SUSHI!! AUSTIN FUCKING SUSHI!!”

His hips slam once, twice more. His lips crush to yours, breath rushing into his nose, then he is moaning into your mouth. His hips shudder as he empties himself deep into you. You had no idea he was that close. God, this man.

“Oh sweet Angel, that’s my good girl,” he cradles your shaking head between his hands.

You are a sopping mess, tears are coursing unbidden down your cheeks as you shake and shiver in overwhelm. He rolls to the side, sitting up and gathers you up, safe in his arms.

“That was amazing darling, you are amazing.” he lightly kisses both your eyelids.

“I am so proud of you, my Princess!” You took so much more that I thought you could.”

He rocks you and pets you and calls you pretty. Once he knows you aren’t going to hyperventilate he reaches for a water bottle that sits on his bedside table. He pulls you to sitting and helps you take a drink. A drop escapes and trails over your chin and down your front. He catches it on his finger as you blow out a huge breath, rubbing your eyes.

“Thank you, Austin. That was… fuckin’… wow,” you smile lopsidedly up at him.

“You are most welcome, my special Princess,” he kisses your nose.

You both exhale in perfect contentment and doze off, curled in each other's arms.

After a bit of a catnap, you both come to. He insists that he rinse you off in the shower.��

“I made you dirty, sweetheart. Plus it’s nicer to sleep clean.”

You brush your teeth and gather your hair up loosely on top of your head in two ponytails with additional ties near the ends. He is already in bed when you walk in from the bathroom, covers back and is waiting for you.

“Get over here my Sleepy Bunny with your two floppy ears, I want goodnight kisses.”

You crawl between the sheets and into his open arms. He plants kisses on your cheeks, your forehead and your nose before pressing his lips to yours with a little growl.

“Goodnight my Sexy Bunny Princess Angel,” you can tell he is ready to conk out, exhausted.

“Goodnight my Amazing Sexy Austin,” you smile, you realize you are actually exhausted too.

Snuggled together all clean and happy, if a bit overwhelmed, you both drift off, smiling like idiots.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler smut #austin butler fic #@slowsweetlove #@purejasmine #@richardslady121 #austin butler x reader #austin butler/reader

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littlewinter1917 · 2 years

Text

Groupie Love

Chapter One ✿ Touch Down

My blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI. 🔞 Don’t repost my work anywhere.

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: Your best friend’s band has been taking off, ever since you’ve both started uni. But when you come back from a semester abroad, you find yourself confronted with both: Your lingering feelings for your best friend Eddie, and unexpected ones for their new drummer, Billy; someone you also have quite the past with…

Words: 6.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: You finally come home from your semester abroad to reunite with your best friends. Yet there's more than just your lingering feelings for Eddie that await you, as you're faced with the sudden appearance of a guy you never expected to ever see again.

Chapter Warnings: Fluff. Secret mutual pining and a pinch of angst. Swearing, teasing and some suggestive talks. Very brief mentions of Billy's past abuse. Idiots in denial about their feelings and some longing.

A/N: In order for this story to make sense: None of the Vecna and Mindflayer events happened; so Heather and Chrissy are still very much alive and thriving (as they should!! 😡)

Also every main character in this story is above the age of 18! They're all an appropriate college age, just to make this very clear!!

The first one of your friends you notice is Heather.

She’s hard to miss with her dark brown hair thrown into a dramatic messy bun that’s flopping around vigorously on the top of her head as she speaks, and the bright red jumper she’s wearing certainly makes her stand out even more.

She’s saying something to the slightly smaller person standing next to her, and that’s your other friend you immediately notice: Chrissy.

The blonde’s dressed in a soft pastel color, holding a little sign close to her chest, her eyes scanning the arrival area of the airport repeatedly while listening to whatever Heather’s currently talking about.

She’s also the one who notices you first, her eyes lighting up instantly, before raising her sign up in excitement, pointing it in your direction, smile bright on her pretty face.

God, how you’ve missed them.

You decide to quicken the pace of your steps, as you push your little baggage cart as fast as you possibly can, without threatening to injure all the different pairs of busy feet scurrying around you.

Which, to be honest, isn’t particularly fast.

But that doesn’t really matter, because both of your close friends manage to run up to you excitedly, and it’s Heather that engulfs you into a big hug first.

She can’t help the little squeal that leaves her lips as her arms wrap tightly around you, and neither can you before she starts swaying you both from side to side.

“I’m so happy you’re back!” She states, voice overflowing with joy.

“How was the flight? How was the-“

She’s interrupted rudely by some careless businessman, who’s just bumped into the two of you, before hurrying off without even a second glance or a single worded apology, and you both give him a death glare.

“Hey! Watch where you going!” Heather calls out after him, but he’s either too far off to hear or to care.

Asshole.

But the small scowl on Heather’s face is quickly replaced by another smile as she turns her attention back to you.

“You look good!” She observes, and you can’t help but feel a little shy under her gaze and at her words. Because after a nine-hour flight you feel anything but.

“She sure does, bur could you stop hogging her, Heath? I want to hug her too!”

You don’t need to see Chrissy as she says those words to know that there’s a small pout forming on her lips, one she’s probably not even aware of doing, and it makes it even cuter.

“Fine, fine,” Heather agrees reluctantly, detangling herself from you with a sigh.

And as soon as your out of Heather’s arms you find yourself back in Chrissy’s.

“Missed you so much,” she mumbles, her voice a little softer than Heather’s, and you mutter a hushed, “Missed you more,” back.

“Impossible,” Chrissy huffs, and you smile into her shoulder.

You really, really did miss those two.

In fact, you’ve missed all of your friends, but especially your dear roommates: Heather, Chrissy, and Robin.

And Eddie, of course, except he isn’t your roommate, and you try hard not to notice his current absence.

“Fuck, what exactly did you bring back from Europe, huh?” Heather’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

Raising your head out of the crook of Chrissy’s neck, you watch your brunette friend with an amused smile, as she tries to pull on of your suitcases from the baggage cart, but fails miserably.

“Don’t bother,” you state with a laugh, “I needed like two guys to get that bitch on the cart.”

“Geez, seriously?” Heather scoffs, hands on her hips in that typical mom-pose she must have started to pick up from Steve in your absence.

It’s endearing.

“Yeah,” you emphasize with a nod, arms still wrapped around Chrissy, because neither one of you wants to let go first.

As always.

“Okay, so how are we going to get that thing off then?” Heather questions, and for a split second your thoughts drift back to Eddie.

“I’m so sorry! I won’t be able to make it.” His apologetic voice still rings in your ears.

He had told you about it on a phone call two days ago. Those were exciting news for him, really. Not the part about how he won’t make it to the airport to pick you up, of course, but the reasoning behind it.

“We’ll be playing at the Blitz! can you believe it?! The fucking Blitz wants us to perform for the night, last minute!”

The excitement in his voice had been so incredibly clear, even through the phone, that it was almost palatable in your room despite being thousands and thousands of miles away from him, on the other side of the world.

“The goddamn Blitz, that’s like our chance!”

Eddie had repeated, voice just as excited as before, and the smile on your face was bright as you congratulated him, saying he deserved it.

Because he did.

The Blitz being a rather popular bar downtown; some might even say the most popular bar; at least when it comes to the scene of the college kids crowd. It’s a bar known for incredibly good music and live acts, as well as that one place where quite a few popular music groups have first been discovered.

Getting to play there had been a dream come true for Eddie, so of course, you were beyond happy for him, even if the silent realization, that he wouldn’t make it to the airport stung ever so slightly.

But you didn’t want to focus on it then, like you don’t want to focus on it now, because you really want to be the most supportive friend that you can be.

And besides that, you’ll get to see Eddie at his concert tonight.

So, who cares that he didn’t manage to make it to the airport?

You do, you silently have to admit to yourself feeling somewhat ashamed.

You know it’s foolish and slightly selfish, but there had been a little, secret hope buried and growing somewhere deep within your chest, that he’d show up anyways.

That he might steal away in between all of the preparations for this night’s concert, to join Heather, and Chrissy in their excited airport pick up commotion.

But he didn’t.

And even though you have no real right or reason to be disappointed, you still are, and it hurts.

Because you had foolishly hoped he’d come anyways, yet here you are without him.

And you can’t even blame him for the pang in your heart because you knew, because he told you.

Because he had even asked you if you were okay with this.

And of course, you were.

What else were you supposed to say?

No?!

No, I don’t care about your maybe once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity to play with your band at the coolest venue in town? Come pick me up instead?

Of course not!

Because you love him, and you want to see him thrive and succeed and-

Wait.

You love him?

Okay, that just came out wrong.

You don’t love him.

You just care about him a little more than maybe the rest of your friends, but that’s a totally normal and Platonic thing to do, right?!

So, why does his absence still sting so much then?

Chrissy notices the pained look that crosses your face briefly, and the hold she still has on you tightens in a comforting manner.

“You know, he feels really bad about not being able to come.” She states softly, her green eyes searching yours, and you sigh.

“I know.”

You also don’t want to be ungrateful for your two best friends who did show up, driving out to greet you and pick you up from the airport.

And so, the smile you give Chrissy isn’t forced or fake; it’s earnest, because you really are happy to be reunited again with her and Heather, and the slightly bitter taste of disappointment is quickly swallowed down, disappearing somewhere in your stomach.

Gone for now, but not completely forgotten.

The aftertaste is going to rise up again at some point, but not right now, and that’s what matters.

“Oh! I completely forgot!” Chrissy exclaims suddenly, before handing you the little sign she’s been holding on to tightly.

“Here!” She states, proudness clear in her voice, and you curiously take the piece of paper from her hands.

Welcome home, Buttercup, it states in neat, glittery letters, but it isn’t just a welcoming sign.

It’s a welcoming card.

One that you’re able to fold up, and you can’t help but smile at what greets you inside.

There are little welcoming notes written from all of your friends.

There’s Chrissy’s unmistakable handwriting, and Heather's, of course.

But there’s also Robin’s and Nancy’s.

The first one is unable to come because she’s a vital part of Eddie’s Band; the second one is cursed with an unskippable journalism class.

There’s Steve’s handwriting and Argyle’s, as well as Jonathan’s and of last but not least Eddie’s.

Wait, that’s not true.

There’s even a ninth one, you don’t really recognize.

Can’t wait to meet you! It states, in a scribbly fashion, signed with the name Billy.

You know that name. It’s the new drummer guy that joined Eddie’s Band Hellfire roughly two months ago, after one particular big dispute with the previous drummer Jakob.

You never really liked Jakob, he had always been a bit of an entitled douche, and so you’re quite excited to meet the new replacement tonight.

Because he joined the band after you had already left for Europe, you never had the pleasure of meeting him, relying only on the hearsay from your friends.

Eddie’s especially. He had been telling you a bit more about the new guy, voice always switching from amazement to exasperation at the thought of him.

“He’s really talented, but he’s also a lot.” You remember Eddie stating with a sigh. “I’m not sure you’ll like him, but he’s way better than Jake by a landslide.”

You don’t doubt that, but you still want to see it for yourself.

Your eyes flicker over the notes once more as you feel yourself getting choked up and a little teary.

“Thank you,” you mumble, voice emotional, “that’s such a sweet idea.”

“Well, we all felt a little bit guilty about not being able to show up at the airport as your little harem of love.” Chrissy jokes, making you and Heather laugh.

You pull her into another tight hug, whispering little thank you’s against her skin, before you move over to Heather, doing the same.

You really, really missed them both a lot you realize once more; and as the three of you walk towards the exit of the airport, you and Chrissy pushing the cart, laughing, while Heather’s sitting proudly on top of the heavy suitcases ordering directions and driving instructions like a royalty being paraded around, you feel a warm feeling flutter inside of your chest.

You’re home again.

And as fun as your months abroad in Europe had been, you’re glad to be back home.

Back home with your friends.

The drive down to your shared apartment is filled with avid laughter, giggles, and excited stories that you didn’t get to share before.

After being away for months, you’re eager to be up to date with everything again.

Of course, you all called and had spoken to each other via phone, but those calls were incredibly expensive, and so for the most part only the biggest and most exciting stories would get exchanged, and the little, less pressing ones simply had to wait till you were all reunited.

And so, Heather fills you in on that new good-looking doctor from one of her nursing classes, who’s apparently so hot he had some students faint in class multiple times.

And Chrissy tells you about the kids in her new school class, that she gets to supervise as a more practical part of her endeavor to become an elementary school teacher.

They tell you about how Steve failed one of his classes again, and how Argyle and Eddie are currently trying to grow some rather unusual cannabis plants, but somehow keep failing. Either watering them too much, or too little.

They tell you that Robin’s currently seeing a new girl she met through the music scene she’s involved with, and after meeting her both, they’ve come to the assessment that she’s apparently the absolute cutest.

“You’re definitely going to love her,” Heather swoons, “She has the cutest Bambi eyes, and she can actually sing not like-“

“Tami Thompson!” The three of you exclaim at the same time, giggling.

God, it had taken Robin a while to get over her, and you’re glad to hear she’s apparently doing better now.

“Maybe you’ll meet her at the concert tonight,” Heather exclaims excitedly from the backseat, hands clapping together for emphasis.

“Oh, I’d love to!” You honestly state.

“And you’ll finally meet Billy!” Chrissy adds, “I’m really curious what you’ll think of him! You’ve never got to actually meet him, right?”

Her question is paired with a quick glance over to you from behind the steering wheel, before focusing her gaze back on the road again.

“Not that I know off, no.” You say earnestly.

“He joined Hawkins High right after you’d left and moved away,” Heather summarizes.

“God, he used to be such an asshole back then. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still somewhat of a pain in the ass, but it’s nowhere near as bad.”

“Yeah,” Chrissy agrees with a nod, “It’s funny that you never met though.”

You hum, as you look out the window, taking in the familiar scenery again.

“I think Eddie and Steve mentioned him sometimes in passing back then, when we were still in high school, I mean.” You explain, eyes still transfixed on the passing houses outside.

Your family had moved from the West Coast to Indiana right after you had finished elementary school. You had started middle school with Chrissy and immediately made friends with her. With her and Eddie, of course, who was a grade or two above you then.

You consider both of them your absolute closest of friends, and growing up together for so long only sealed that incredibly tight bond.

By the time you started high school, you were still completely inseparable from those two, even when you found yourself exploring different social circles.

Eddie had started a D&D club; you joined the orchestra and made quick friends with Robin and Steve, and Chrissy became part of the cheerleading gang.

But after two years at Hawkins High, right before starting your junior year, your parents had to move again, this time to the much bigger city of South Bend.

So, you left Hawkins and your previous school behind, but not your friends.

Not really, anyways.

You stayed in avid contact for the next two years, calling and visiting each other any time you could.

And by the time college rolled around you all found yourself reunited again.

It’s a bigger circle of friends now, but you love them all the same, with the exception of Eddie maybe.

He’s someone you’ve had a terrible crush on ever since starting high school.

But unfortunately, those feelings are almost as strong as the denial you find yourself in anytime one of your close friends points it out or brings it up.

You try hard not to like him like that.

And you had actually, secretly, hoped, that your time away from him would clear your mind and your heart from at least some of those lingering and interfering feelings, but to no avail.

Each time he’d called you while on your stay in Europe, your heart would pick up its pace at the mere sound of his voice, and the gentleness that slipped through whenever he was talking to you.

Being away from him only made you miss him more as those persistent feelings simply grew stronger, and you hate yourself a little bit for it, because he’s your closest confidant and there’s nothing you’re more terrified of than losing him.

It’s not that big of a deal, you keep telling yourself, because you’re actually terrified of losing all of your friends, if you really think about it.

Maybe Eddie a little bit more?

But what’s a little bit more, in a purely Platonic sense?

You try not to fidget in your seat too much at the mere thought of seeing him again later.

Hear his voice again, see his bright eyes and his even brighter smile again. And those curls. You’ve missed running your fingers through them so, so much.

But most of all, you’ve missed those comforting nights together, curled up on either one of your couches, sometimes high, sometimes not.

You’ve missed his little giggles and the gentle rumble of his chest when he was laughing while you were lying curled up closely on top of him, listening to his steady heartbeat and high ramblings.

You simply missed Eddie.

Your best friend Eddie, whose been by your side as an avid supporter ever since middle school.

Eddie, who you cried to, when the first boy had broken your heart in 6th grade.

And then you ended up crying even more when Eddie came home hours later with a broken nose, because he tried to fight that bastard, and, uh, didn’t quite succeed.

“It was a draw,” Eddie’s still adamant about that, even now, though you both know that that isn’t really the truth.

But it’s the thought that counts, and the determination to protect you, completely and wholeheartedly.

And Eddie certainly did that, when he was putting his fucking nose on the line for you, something he still gets lovingly teased about by the rest of your shared friends.

Eddie, the boy who taught you your first riffs on his cherished guitar.

Who would learn some of your favorite songs, just so he could teach you the cords and watch your face light up with excitement, like when you found him playing Heart of Glass or Sister Golden Hair, two songs he supposedly hated, but not enough apparently; not enough when it comes to you.

Eddie, the guy who, unbeknownst to him, had become the protector and owner of your heart, ever since you can remember; but especially since high school, when he started to get his first little tattoos and grew his hair out, while simultaneously growing more into himself at the same time.

And now, he’s the man you utterly adore - on a solely Platonic level, of course; or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself and your shared friends, but neither one really believes you.

“So, Billy,” you state, because you want to change the direction of your thoughts and talking about a random guy might help.

Though, you did know a Billy at some point in time, but that’s also not something you’d like to think about, and it’s not something you’ve ever really shared with your friends either, nor do you want to.

“He joined Hawkins High right after I left for junior year, right?”

“Yeah, he was a grade below Steve, I think? Or maybe he was a senior then too? Fuck, I don’t remember.” Heather mutters, “But hey, we can ask him about it when we see him in a bit.”

“Oh no, it’s not that important,” you refuse quickly, voice soft.

The avid talks between the three of you start picking up again, when Heather wants to know your opinion on the latest Bananarama single, and it escalates quickly into a passionate discussion about the latest music releases.

By the time Chrissy steers the car towards the parking spots near your apartment complex, you and Heather are still completely lost in a deep and serious debate about who the better Roger Taylor is;

Heather’s convinced it’s Roger Taylor, the drummer of Duran Duran, and you adamantly swear that this is blasphemous, because it's obviously Roger Taylor, the drummer of Queen, who’s superior.

Not just over the funky little Duran Duran guy, but superior over all drummers in general.

The god among the drummers, if you will.

Your drummer god.

“You just say that because you think he’s hot and you want to get dicked down by him,” Heather huffs, and you scoff in return, folding your arms over your chest defensively.

As if her assessment of the best drummer isn’t led entirely by lust either.

“Well, who doesn’t want to get dicked down by Roger Taylor, the drummer of Queen?!” You exclaim incredulously, before adding, “Like, excuse me, but have you seen him? The hair, the arms, the voice, the passion, the attitude … And you know he has the fucking stamina to hold a decent pace and tempo while-“

“Okay that’s enough!” Chrissy quips up with a laugh.

“You’re both unbelievable.” She states with fake exasperation, “Besides, isn’t it obvious that the best drummer mankind has ever been blessed with is Animal?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, as you try to whack your brain for a drummer named such an odd name, but can’t think of any band that would-

The sudden realization that hits you like a punch in the gut has your eyes going wide.

“But Chrissy,” you almost yell in surprise, “That’s the drummer from the Muppets!”

“Exactly,” she chirps while getting out of the car, and you and Heather share a confused and slightly concerned look, before Chrissy pokes her head back into the car, her eyes narrowing in sternly on the two of you.

“And no, I don’t want to fuck him, you animals. I just think he’s neat.”

If you thought getting your luggage out of the baggage cart earlier and into the car was difficult, getting it into your little apartment on the fifth floor proves itself as even more challenging.

By the end of it, all three of you are completely sweaty and exhausted, lightly bickering about who gets to shower first.

As usual you play Rock, Paper, Scissors. As usual Chrissy wins (at least while Robin isn’t around.) And as usual, you go last – it’s a fate that you’ve already made peace with.

You don’t really have the time to unpack everything from your heavy suitcases, nor do you have the energy to, if you’re honest.

So, instead, while Chrissy’s occupying the bathroom, singing a gentle cover version of Sweet Child O’ Mine, that flows softly from beneath the door like the warm steam that’s slipping through, you and Heather decide to get the outfits ready for tonight.

Heather decides on a sparkly dress. You decide on a cute skirt with a flowy top that’s a bit more 70s, and for Chrissy you end up laying out three options.

One that you think is cute, one that Heather thinks is cute, and one that Chrissy would probably think is cute.

Once everyone has showered, the three of you help each other get ready just as always.

It’s the same routine as before you left, and you’re amazed at how easy it is to fall right back into that again.

You currently tease Heather’s hair while Chrissy picks out the perfect jewelry for you, slipping the necklace and the earrings on you carefully.

“Thanks,” you mumble between the hairclip you’re currently holding in between your teeth, as you need both of your hands to finish Heather’s ponytail; while Heather’s swatching lipstick after lipstick on the back of her hand, her annoyed huffs increasing by the minute, because she can’t find that one shade she swears she owns.

“It would be perfect,” she swoons, “And it would really bring out the color of your eyes. I bought it with you in mind, barely a month ago, but I just can’t find it.”

She does find it, half an hour later, when you’re all about to slip through the door to get to the venue.

And you can’t help but laugh because it really is like always.

The Blitz isn’t too far off, and despite having visited it numerous times before, you squirm away anxiously in your seat again.

You’re excited, of course, to see all of your friends again but you can’t help but also feel a little bit nervous.

It isn’t just the thought of Eddie, that has the pace of your heartbeat increasing. It’s also all the other guys you’ll be reuniting with; because after having been gone for a few months, you can’t help but feel a little out of the loop.

Sure, Chrissy and Heather had welcomed you back with arms wide open and filled you in almost immediately on all the newest developments.

But those talks also made you realize how much you had missed out on while you were gone.

Of course, you’ve had your own little adventures in the meantime in Europe, but those were only shared with yourself and some casual friends you made along the way, while the rest of your friends, your closest friends, had been bonding about things you had no clue about, and you notice that you’re a little scared about the prospect of not getting every single inside joke like you used to, before you left.

You know it’s a little silly, but the knot in your stomach still lingers.

“Hey, listen, it’s your boyfriend!” Heather calls you out of your thoughts, voice teasing, before turning the radio up with a smile.

It’s Queen’s One Vision, and the laugh that leaves your lips is earnest and warm, and while it’s not your favorite Queen song, you still hum along, taping the beat softly on the exposed skin of your thigh, as you feel yourself be more at ease.

“Did you watch the making of video of that song?” You question, a teasing smile back on your lips because you know this will rile both of your friends up.

Not waiting for an answer, you continue:

“Roger Taylor looked simply to die for in his funky little dad-shirts, with the sunglasses behind his big set of drums, which surely aren’t the only big things he owns, and doesn’t it just make you want to curl up into his lap and-“

“How the fuck do you manage to come back from Europe more horny?” Chrissy interrupts you amused.

“It’s what the French will do to you,” you joke, poking your tongue out at her and subsequently making her laugh.

“Uh-huh, I bet Eddie would want to hear all about that.”

“Except here’s where you wrong,” Heather chimes in, “Because Eddie doesn’t really play the drums, does he? But if he would hear the way you keep talking about Roger Taylor, I’m sure he would kick Billy out in a heartbeat and play those fucking drums himself, just to impress you.”

“Oh, shut up!” you exclaim, feeling your cheeks heat up and getting rather flustered.

“He doesn’t like me like that anyway.”

“Bullshit!” Chrissy and Heather exclaim at the same time, but you’re still unconvinced.

They’re your best friends, after all, they’re supposed to hype you up.

But you’re not going to risk it.

You’re not going to risk the year-long friendship with Eddie; you just won’t. You might not know a lot, but that’s something you’re quite sure about.

When you arrive at the venue, there’s still a few more hours to go till the concert, and the sun hasn’t quite set yet either.

Heather holds the door open for you and Chrissy to slip through, and the latter takes your hand, without a second thought once she notices the slight tremble of your fingers, thus instantly making you feel more at ease again.

She gives you a supportive smile and you try to mirror it, heart pounding away in your chest with quite the intensity.

You’re going to see Eddie again, and all of your friends you love so much.

The first person to notice you is Jonathan, ever the uttermost attentive one. His hair is a bit longer since the last time you’ve seen him, but it suits him well enough.

You wonder how Nancy feels about it, though.

He smiles brightly at you, once he sees you, dropping the cables he’s been working on unceremoniously before hoping off the stage, his camera dangling from his neck as always.

You sometimes wonder if he wears that thing to bed as well.

But you digress.

As both, unofficial roadie and band photographer, his help is very much needed, and he tries to do his best where he can, in between his studies and his work at a small photo lab.

But right now, everything else can wait, because he has a friend to welcome back.

He’s missed you, and he tells you that while his arms wrap around you softy, and you can’t help but notice how he smells very much of weed; Argyle’s and Eddie’s continuous influence undoubtfully.

“Look at you, you’re beaming!” Jonathan observes with a laugh, as he lets you go carefully before adjusting his camera back in place once more.

He had swung the object over the back of his shoulder quickly, so as to prevent it from poking either one of you during your prolonged hug, but now that there’s even the slightest distance between you two again, the beloved object is back in its semi-secure place.

Before you can lovingly tease him about it, you get jumped by Steve, who’s laughing loud and hearty and almost has you speechless with his bright smile and warm eyes.

“You’re back! You’re back!” He exclaims, jumping excitedly up and down while hugging you tightly from behind, thus rendering you to the ungrateful fate of bopping along like a ragdoll in his grip.

That guy is seriously underestimating his strength, you think, as you get lifted up and down once more, moved around like a fucking saltshaker.

“Geez, dingus, you’re gonna give her moving sickness!”

Robin chides, before encompassing you in a big hug herself, saving you from Steve’s unyielding grip, and you let out a small, relieved huff, as you can actually breathe again.

She still sounds and smells exactly like she always does, and it’s something you didn’t know you’ve missed that much until you’re faced with it again, and it hits you like a brick in the teeth, how very much you longed to hear her raspy laugh and teasing voice, and just everything about her.

You hug her a little tighter as you cherish the feeling of it all a moment or two longer.

“Our little jetsetter is back!” Argyle exclaims from the back of the room at the same time as Robin inquires about the quality of your flight, and he almost stumbles over a few carton boxes to get to you quicker.

He simply joins Robin in her current hug, his body soft against yours, and his lush hair flowing around with every bop of his head.

How did it manage to get even longer, and silkier, you think.

“Now my amigos are all together and complete again,” he hums with content, and you agree with a soft laugh.

You sure are all gathered around together again.

Everyone except Nancy, who’s still at Uni, and Eddie.

Eddie, who’s apparently the last one to get the fucking memo, as he’s stepping out of the backstage area onto the stage, deeply in thought, headphones on top of his curly hair and his beloved guitar tightly in hand.

When he looks up to see you getting absolutely swarmed by all of your shared friends, he almost drops his guitar.

Fuck, you look stunning.

You’ve always been the prettiest girl in all of Hawkins. No, scrap that, all of Indiana, to him.

But after not seeing you for months, and longing for your return every fucking day, being finally faced with you hits him in the chest like one of those kick-boxer-moves he keeps seeing on late night TV with Argyle, when they’re both high as a kite, and he can almost feel himself stumble a few steps back at the intensity of it all.

God, he’s in deep.

But how could he not be, when you’re standing there glowing, smiling brightly from ear to ear as you try to answer each and every one of the rapid questions that your friends currently throw your way.

And then your eyes find his on the stage, and that’s the thing that pushes him out of his previous stare and rigidity.

He’s jumping of the stage even quicker than Jonathan did earlier, sprinting towards your direction and colliding with you with a force that has you actually tumbling back, and you probably would have fallen too, if it wasn’t for Eddie’s steading grip on your waist, as he hugs you as tightly to his chest as humanly possible and then he spins you around like a child.

“You’re back!” he exclaims, voice emotional and a little raw, and he repeats those words until he stops spinning you around, curling himself around you instead, as you both come down from the overwhelming feeling and dizziness of it all.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much!” he mumbles, as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, taking in the soft fragrance of your shampoo, and your perfume, and those other notes that just make you smell utterly like you.

God, how he’s missed you!

“Missed you too, Eds.” you admit in a hushed whisper against the exposed skin of his neck, and a little relieved sigh falls from Eddie’s lips, because that means he wasn’t the only one.

Wasn’t the only one who thought of you each and every single day and night of your absence.

Or at least that’s what he’d like to think, because your shared friends have been more adamant in their pursue of convincing him to finally make a move on you, because supposedly you feel the same way about him as he feels about you.

Something that seems Entirely far-fetched and impossible in Eddie’s mind; but the idea does sound very nice.

But he simply doesn’t want to risk it.

You’re the bestest friend he could ask for, and he values you too much, to let you slip away because of some stupid butterflies he’s felt for you, ever since he saw you for the first time in middle school, many, many years ago.

You’re not sure how long you two stand engulfed like that; but there’s still a concert to set up, so it’s probably not as long as either one of you wants it to be.

But nevertheless, Eddie takes the time to show you around, eyes beaming with excitement, and you feel so incredibly proud of him.

And fuck, you’ve really missed his smiles, and his overdramatic enactments as he parades you around the space, eager to so share this special moment with you.

A moment he’s been working towards for such a long time. And knowing he gets to have this with all of his closest friends around, most of all you, means the uttermost world to him.

He’s also rather nervous, but how could he not be.

This night is going to be big.

For better, or for worse.

He watches the rest of his bandmembers, Steve and Robin, scurry around, while lost in thought, before he suddenly remembers something.

Billy.

He’s not sure where that guy is currently hiding, but he’s eager to introduce you two. Curious what you’ll think of each other, because as much as he says he’s exasperated by that mullet-haired dude, he’s also come to like him quite a little bit.

Maybe it’s because he’s moved in with him and the other guys, granting Eddie the chance to peak behind that cold exterior of Billy’s personality, that used to keep everyone at twice the arm’s length.

Maybe it’s Billy’s talent – because, fuck, that guy sure is talented. And maybe that’s what smooths over some of the sharp edges of his personality for Ed.

Either way, that guy he used to dislike during high school is steadily growing on him.

Steve says, it’s probably just the fact that they’re the only ones in the group with the same horrible music taste, but Eddie can just scoff at that.

It’s a bold statement coming from someone who unapologetically sings Cyndi Lauper at the top of his lungs in the shower.

Eddie shakes his head at the memory before scanning the venue for Billy.

He sees the guy in question walk in with an amplifier completely on his own.

That guy really is crazy, Eddie thinks.

No matter how often he’s told him not to carry those heavy electronics by himself, he still does it.

Stubborn little fuck.

He’s about to call out his name, scolding him once more, when he notices one of the in-house sound technicians running up to him, trying to help.

Eddie doesn’t need to see Billy’s face to know that he’s wearing the biggest scowl right now, fuming about not getting his way.

And Eddie decides to let go of your hand that he’s been holding ever since you two reunited, and makes his way over to Billy quickly.

Slapping him so hard on his shoulder it almost has him dropping the amplifier again.

“Geez, Munson, what’s the deal with you today?” Billy huffs as he turns around, but not before putting the amplifier down carefully.

Eddie instead gives the technician a gentle smile. “We’ve got it from here, thank you.” he states, before grabbing Billy carefully by his arm.

“I told you to stop carrying those by yourself, idiot. You’ll just strain your already tense back, and that won’t help your performance while drumming at all.” He whispers, while giving Billy a pointed look, before leading him back towards you.

“Billy, I want you to meet someone-“

“Oh, yeah?” the guy in question asks with a suggestive smile, “But the groupies haven’t even-“

There’s another hearty slap on Billy’s back to render him speechless and get him to shut up again, though the slap itself might not be the only reason for his sudden lack of words.

Because as his eyes finally find yours in the middle of the fucking venue, you feel like your brain is short-circuiting at the actually sight of him.

It takes you a second or two to realize where exactly you know him from, and why his features seem so oddly familiar to you.

But when you finally do recognize him, putting two and two together, you feel like your legs are going to give out, and you can’t help but exclaim, completely and utterly surprised:

“No fucking way!”

And Billy looks at you, just as stunned, blue eyes big as saucers, eyebrows raised almost comically behind his wild curls, mouth slightly aghast, because this simply cannot be.

Because right here, before you stands no other than William fucking Hargrove.

Your childhood best friend, William Hargrove.

Billy Sunnyboy Hargrove; The guy you met in kindergarten and never let go off, until you moved to Indiana, after your shared and chaotic time in elementary school together.

Sure, he looks different.

Fuck, he looks very different, you can’t help but notice, but it’s unmistakably him.

The piercing blue eyes, the slightly freckled skin, the bright smile and lush lashes.

It’s him.

The boy you befriended at the tender age of three and a half after complimenting his dolphin-decorated lunchbox.

The boy you would hide in your closet, in the hopes that his parents wouldn’t find him when they’d come to pick him up again, because you knew what his dad did to him.

Because you knew that the bruises on your body only ever came from falling too hard on the playground, like jumping off from the swing-set to soon; but Billy’s mostly came from a darker and much more sinister source.

A source you can’t shake of as easily as you could the dust from your hands after falling down, and picking yourself up again, and maybe running off to your dad, so he would kiss the wounds and lingering bruises better, while Billy’s dad was the reason for his.

For the violent blue and green outlines that have always bloomed on your best friend’s skin, ever since you’ve first met him.

Billy, the boy who you tried to cheer up desperately, after his mother just left out of the blue, by bringing him his favorite sweets to school, and sneaking him secretly into the girls bathroom, dragging him to the uttermost hidden and final stall, just so you could hold him and let him cry against your shoulder and yell in grief, despair, and anger.

And hurt.

So much hurt.

Billy, the boy you had your first ever kiss with, in an act of complete and utter innocence, because you both just wanted to know what it would be like, with nothing but childlike curiosity.

The boy who taught you how to surf, while you taught him how to make the perfect necklaces out of the prettiest seashells – or as perfect as a 7-year-old can make them anyways.

It’s Billy.

Your Billy.

The Billy you left in complete and utter tears, when you told him you’d move away come the end of summer, a long, long time ago.

Billy, the boy you wrote so many letters to, but never heard from again.

Never spoke to again.

Never even saw again.

Until this very moment.

And when he says your full name in complete surprise and disbelief, you don’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

Next Chapter

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And that's it! Sorry for the little cliff hanger, couldn't help myself with that one! Also, if you made it this far, thank you! I really appreciate you reading my little series! And I hope you enjoyed it!

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