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gyuswhore · 7 months

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Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut tags in part 2

(Comments from @toruro): "oh shizzle", "yeah bitch", (on jihyo) "mother", "ME X HAO FIRE EMOJI", "men (derogatory)"

[A/N]: Tumblr is annoying and won't let me post the entire 40k in one go so i have to break it up (part 2 is out tomorrow!!!) i hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for all the love on the teaser, i hope this is able to live up to the hype, thank you so much for being patient with me <33 (ty @toruro for encouraging me when i felt shit ab this gkjnrgvkjrng and beta-ing ofc)

As someone who could vomit at the mere thought of throw-up, you tried not to stare into the toilet bowl as you emptied your guts in this questionable club bathroom.

It was proving to be easier than you’d anticipated, naturally, when your eyes were blurred with bubbling tears. Were they because of your wretching or the feelings that churned in your heart? You can’t be entirely sure, nor can you find yourself having the mental strength to figure out. There’s a banging on the door behind you, one that sends your already aching head into a hurling spin.

“Open the door, I have water for you, it’ll help!” You hear Mika blare from the other side, concern lacing her voice.

You try to blink the tears away but they cascade down your cheek anyway, rubbing at them furiously before preparing to haul yourself off the disgusting bathroom floor. Taking a deep breath was a horrible idea, you realize when an atrocious mixture of scents hit your nostrils, cringing visibly.

Washing your hands at the sink took you another five minutes, scrubbing furiously at your palms and nails with the dollar store soap the club graciously placed in a fancy dispenser, pumping more than a normal amount to rid yourself of the paranoia of tainted hands.

Unfortunately for you, your palms were tainted with entities beyond mere soap and water’s powers.

It was evident with the way you exited the bathroom feeling perhaps worse than you went in. Mika was nowhere to be seen in the hall, moving along to the private room where the rest of the group was to find her springing up as you enter.

“You weren’t answering, so I left. Here, water, I told you to be careful with what you drink; you haven’t had a bite to eat either.” She reprimands.

“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly, not having a reasonable excuse to give her.

Joshua peeks over her shoulder, “You feeling any better?”

The water is slow to go down as you sputter before replying in a hoarse voice, “Yeah. Way.”

To be fair, the water did help. But it was you who was the problem, blaming the alcohol for the behaviour all your friends knew perfectly well where it was stemming from. Not a word was said though, for your sake or their own. You wrap up quickly after that, Joshua insisting to drop you off home himself, quoting how Seokmin would have his head if he left you in the hands of a taxi driver in this state — age gap be damned. You can only thank him as he pulls up to your destination, hoping you’ll remember this in the morning to return the favour in the future.

“Before you go, can we talk for a second?” he piques, halting you as you remove your seatbelt.

“Sure, yeah. What is it?”

“I’m not gonna ask if you’re doing alright, not when you’re gonna give me the same answer as always. But…please take care of yourself. You’ve been drinking quite a bit lately, and it can’t be helping you at all”

You listen to him silently, not a thought in your brain. But you nod anyway.

“Thanks for looking out, Shua. I’m…I’m probably not gonna be going out for a while, you’re right,” you reply, quietly, a small smile on your face that you can only hope is reassuring.

“I don’t mean lock yourself up, either. You don’t give yourself a break and then try to make up for it by drinking your self faint every week, that’s never gonna help you. You know that.” He speaks in a soft, soothing voice, a hand coming up to pat your hair before landing on your clasped hands on your lap. “You know what, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, we can go the fair just me, you and Seok-”

“I have class tomorrow.”

“Like showing up hungover is gonna help you retain any information. Just skip.”

You sigh a deep exhale, deciding to simply be upfront. “I kinda just wanna stay home for a while, going out’s kinda making it worse. I think rotting in front of my laptop’s what I really need right now”

Throwing in a tinkle of a laugh, you hope you’ve sold yourself.

“Alright,” he sounds slightly unconvinced but doesn’t push you further, “I’ll drop in to bother you tomorrow though, don’t try stoping me”

“Okay,” you say, smiling a little wider. “I’m gonna go now, goodnight.”

“Wait!” he stops you once again, right before your about to shut the door. “Have you talked to Mingyu at all?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Shua. Night”

With that you’ve slammed the door of his car shut, missing the ghost of a “goodnight” that leaves Joshua’s lips as he watches you walk inside the building.

“And stop staying out so late at night! What were you supposed to do if Joshua wasn’t there?” Seokmin rants as he walks back and forth grabbing you water and pills as you finish your forced breakfast.

“Take a taxi?” you suggest sarcastically.

“What? And get me called to the station to identify your body parts when some dude decides he wants to play cannibalistic butcher?” he screeches, and it has you wincing and grabbing onto your head at his volume. You dramatize it a little, hoping he’d shut it with his nagging if you gained some extra sympathy. He doesn’t stop talking, but he does tone it down.

“Whatever, I’m not going out anymore.” You push your plate and bowl away as you hop off the stool and stalk off to your room, making as much noise as possible in the process.

Your brother calls after you, but you don’t stop. Your head was pounding,

“Are you gonna take your meds? HELLO? Or do you enjoy the feeling of having your head split open?” he slams open the door of your room mid-sentence, going on at your blanket-clad figure on the bed.

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, you’re taking your fucking meds.” A cup of water is thrust into your hands as you pick up the pills from Seokmin’s open palms, swallowing before he decides to shove it down your throat himself.

He waits on the edge of the bed, checking to make sure you actually swallowed the pill instead of hiding it under your tongue like you’ve done since you were kids.

“I’m not stopping you from going out if that’s what you think I mean,” he starts, a lot softer this time, and you’re taken back to your conversation with Joshua last night. “You’ve been going out and coming home wasted a lot more than normal lately. I don’t know if it’s because your college agendas are finally catching up to you or what.”

“I’m just…My friends are always out and I wanna be with them, it’s normal,” you grumble, disappearing deeper into your sheets.

“You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?”

‘Yeah, yeah, now shoo. Your voice is making my head hurt worse, I doubt Advils are immune to your yapping.”

“Fine, fuck you too” he mumbles, leaving the room only to pop back in a second later. “Mom called last night, told her you were at a study group. Might wanna call her back before she catches a flight herself.”

You wave two fingers up in a salute from your flat position on the bed, hearing him close the door. You don’t sit up until you hear the TV blare from the living room, knowing he had parked himself on the couch and has his attention diverted.

The headache wasn’t actually that bad, you just really wanted to be left alone, and your brother had a habit to do the opposite when asked, so it had to be done.

What on Earth were you supposed to tell him, anyway? That his best friend in the whole world rejected his sister on the spot when she confessed her decades long feelings? That she was ruining her liver and kidneys every weekend over a rejection? By his best friend in the whole world?

Yeah, that’s an easy conversation.

Snuggling into the covers you try not to think back to the abomination that was your birthday party just a few weeks ago, but your thoughts yank you there anyway, as if to remind you of every wretched detail of the encounter like it was wasn’t already burned into your frontal lobe like a brand.

You were on a high; too happy, too excited. It’s not like you were expecting anything for your first birthday at uni anyway, you were too old for pink blowout parties and too young for the madness of college level clubbing. You were excited for takeout with your brother, to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the night, maybe even stick a candle in one of your burgers and call it your cake. Plans were changed when you walked into your home, ready to wind down for the night and celebrate in your own way.

It was a full house, food and drinks everywhere, complete with a loud “SURPRISE” as you walk through the door. You remember hugging both your brother and Mingyu when they tell you they did all of this for you, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you as you grip them tight, hoping it’ll transfer all the gratitude you couldn’t express.

You’re breathless as the night progresses, trying hard to focus on the conversations at hand, trying to be a good host. Failing miserably, you can’t force your gaze from wandering every few minutes, searching for Mingyu in the crowd, watching him move his mouth as he talked, throw his hair back as he laughed, smile that beautiful, beautiful smile of his, perfect teeth on display.

It had been bliss these past few weeks, the lingering smiles he would give you, the flirtatious attempts never gone unnoticed. The smoothest of words slipping right off his tongue as he gave you eyes that twinkled and sparkled and blew air directly into the embers in your heart. You would still yourself as they would happen, like the mirage would crack and shatter if you even dared to breathe; it felt unreal. After all these years, you realised soon, Kim Mingyu may have began to like you.

You’d be lying if you said you were completely sober when it happened, drinks were passed around and as the birthday girl you didn’t seem to have a choice to back down, already a little hot and wide eyed barely halfway through the night.

And when Mingyu doesn’t interact with you all night, you go to him as the numbers in the house dwindled, cornering him as he collected bottles in the kitchen.

“Hey!”, he sounds enthusiastic, “You having fun yet?”

“Yeah, thanks again for doing this.” your remember fidgeting with your fingers and nails, digging them into each other as you let yourself spew.

“Are you gonna say thank you at every chance for the next six months? It's your first birthday away from home. Besides it was Seok’s idea, I just helped out.” He had said, beaming.

“Mingyu, can I talk to you about something…?”

You sigh loudly as you replay the memory, face pushed into the covers as you bite back a scream at the blood rushing to your head.

Stupid. Idiot. Absolutely brainless.

“Oh.” He had breathed out when you had spilled your entire heart out to him standing in that kitchen, visibly taken aback at your abruptness. “I…I’m sorry I’m not quite sure what to say.”

You still remember that sickening feeling, that big ball of junk and emotions that sank lower and lower in your abdomen, settling a deep hurt in your chest that made it difficult to breathe.

Laying in your bedroom, weeks after the fact, you can still feel your breathing go slightly erratic at the memory, hot tears springing your eyes, burning before you wipe them away. You were aware how baffling it was, how you were letting it affect you to this degree, but you justified it with the years you had remained quiet, yearning on the sidelines.

You deserved to wallow in this pit.

At least that’s what you thought. But after last night you wonder if you had stopped indulging in the sorrow and let it ruin you instead. A sigh escapes you at the thought of ending yet another night in a dirty bathroom, makeup smeared and guts removed, misery becoming the only thing you were allowed to feel in the aftermath.

You reach for your phone on the bedside table, flicking through your unread messages, barely registering a word as you leave them opened and unanswered. There wasn’t an ounce of willpower in you even after a full night’s sleep, turning your phone off before shoving it in your bedside drawer, forgotten. You take a moment to stare at the ceiling, having no energy to get up to turn your lights off. Until the doorbell sounds.

Of course you knew who it was the second you heard, but the voice paired with your brother’s conversing outside was enough to have you catapulting out of bed. You slap your hand over the switchboard, turning off all your lights, moving across the room to pull your curtains shut, cascading complete darkness in the room. You fly under the covers as a last effort to convince, covering your face with the sheets just as you hear a knock.

The door creaks open slightly as Seokmin calls out your name.

“Are you up? Mingyu’s here, he brought coffee.” He whispers slowly. You don’t respond.

He calls out your name one more time before you hear the door click shut. You don’t move till you hear his muffled voice on the other end, “She’s knocked out, her head was hurting, better let her rest.”

Heat pricks the sides of your face as your body finally relaxes, borderline embarrassed at how you were hiding from him like a middle schooler who thinks she’s in love. Which you were at one point; now you're a college kid who thinks she’s in love.

You try not to focus too much on the sounds coming from outside, burying under the covers to attempt at sleep for real this time. Eyes screwed shut, you can’t help but open them at every other intonation. There was no way you could figure out what they were saying if you tried, between the door and the TV, it was all a taunting buzz in your ears.

You do end up falling asleep. But only after you hear the droning of the TV turn off, and the distinct goodbyes as the front door clicks shut.

Keeping to your promise, you stay away from late nights for the next couple of weeks. Joshua so far as commends you for declining invitations, offering dinner on him on one particular phone call.

“You know, I was serious when I said I was proud of you.” Joshua voices solemnly as you attempt to cut a strip of meat onto the grill. You snort as a response.

“I wasn’t like, an alcoholic, you’re making it sound worse than it was.”

“It was still bad for it to affect you in that way. Takes a lot to get back up from heartbreak”

“Especially one that’s lasted for nearly a decade.” You sigh as you give up on the meat, handing the scissors and tongs over.

“Are we still talking about that?” He raises his eyebrows.

A smile makes its way to your face, nibbling on a radish, “No.”

“Good. Because we need to talk about if we want our noodles hot or cold.”

“Seok! SEOK! Where the fuck did you put my pimple patches?” Your screams echo across the house yet garner no response. Opting to yank open the fridge, you dig through through the box of face masks to find them possibly laying at the bottom, forgotten. Seokmin bounds into the kitchen, towel in hand as he pats at his damp hair.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you huff, shoving the unfruitful box back into the cabinet, "you used up all the patches.”

“Patches? Pimple patches? We’ve been out for a month, just use this tube in the drawer.” Pulling open the drawer, he rummages for a moment before emerging with a sickly yellow tube of what looked like poorly marketed toothpaste.

“You want me to put this on my face?”

“Yeah, it works, zit on my nose was gone by morning.” He stuffs the tube back in the drawer not before squeezing a small amount on his fingers to dab on your face.

“Ew, get your dirty hands away from my face.” You grip his wrists before he tries to move in further.

He does nothing but shush you, shaking off your hands as you grumble in silence, letting him finger paint on your face. You move up to fix a roller on your head, undoing it before rolling the bit back in, resulting in another “tsk” emitting form your brothers concentrated face.

“Okay, enough! I don’t have that many zits.” You pull away as Seokmin moves to wash his hands.

“Are you going to bed right now?” He asks as you move over to the door.

“Yeah. I’m not going to sleep, though.”

“Gyu’s coming over, you were asleep when he was here last too.”

It seemed as though every bone in your body rattled against your flesh.

“When is he coming?” You ask quickly, frozen in your spot.

The doorbell rings.

“Right now, I guess.” He snickers to himself.

You can only watch in mild horror as he moves to open the door, words escaping you. You follow behind him, trying to stop him, yet not doing much other than reach the front door yourself, fingers frozen yet mildly trembling.

“Wait!” You finally whisper-shout, “Don’t open it!”

Seokmin pauses to give you a look, “Why? He’s seen you look worse, it’s fine”

The door wrenches open before you can protest any further, a cartoonish moment of the hunched figure of you, hands out in a nearly there grip. You’ve failed, and the chorus of ‘hey’’s reach your ears in almost a mocking manner. There’s a conscious effort on your end to not look up too high, keeping to chest eye level for your own sanity. What you find once your vision clears from the white blur, is that there’s not one, but two people at the door.

Mingyu’s brought a girl.

Standing behind the door meant there was no immediate attention on you, which should have been a perfectly good opportunity for you to book it to your room, but you don’t. You stand there instead, staring at the back of their heads like a child in wonder.

Once you are noticed by your brother, he winces at your appearance, a silent apology, like he didn’t know about this new guest either. Or he was apologising for what he was about to do next, you wouldn’t know, because you wouldn’t be hearing him out when you throttle him later.

“This is my sister”

All three sets of eyes are on you now, a moment of silence as they take in your appearance. The grandma nightgown, in all its blue and collared glory, does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence in front of the very pretty lady, whose hair cascades down her back, whose skin stands as clear as a summer sky.

“Hi!” She breaks the awkward silence first, “I’m Jia, it’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about the both of you.”

What?

“Mingyu has a hard time keeping his mouth shut, I’m not surprised.” Seokmin tries to joke as he motions for the couch in the centre of the room. You catch him kicking a stray sock out of the way as he urges them to sit.

With the way your brother is acting, you don’t doubt this is his first time meeting this girl. Mingyu is yet to clarify why he would bring a friend to the house unannounced, but something tells you you already know. You remain on the sidelines, inching away to the hallway slowly, trying your hardest to not bring attention to yourself.

“I haven’t seen you around campus ever, are you new?” Seokmin prods, his voice slightly on edge.

“Oh, um-” Jia begins but is cut off by Mingyu as he speaks for her.

“Jia doesn’t go to our uni, we met at Seungcheol’s, we’ve been dating for a couple months.”

There it is.

“Oh! Couple months? How come I didn’t know?” You don’t miss the hurt laced in your brother's words, your fists clenching slightly at the oncoming silence.

“That’s on me, sorry. It’s just…I didn’t want anyone to know ‘cause I thought he was playing around when he said he liked me, I wanted to see if he was being real or not.” She laughs nervously, and you see the back of her head move as she talked. You can’t help but note the arm that’s swung across the back of the couch where she sat. “Please don’t be mad at him! I promise it was me that stopped him.”

You don’t hear too much of what happens afterwards as you slip away into the crevice of your bedroom, standing in the entryway in absolute silence, attempting to absorb what you had just witnessed outside. Approaching the full length mirror on the other end, it takes a lot out of your to bring yourself to look straight into it, regretting it immediately as you acknowledge your appearance.

Of course, the woman who actually succeeded in winning over the man that rejected you had to witness you in the unappealing yellow paste that your brother graciously dotted all over your face, not leaving the giant rollers in your hair to cut you any slack either. You could cry about it, but you don’t. Instead you lay back in your bed, sniffling in the dark, just as you had the last time Mingyu was over.

It’s significantly easier to drown out the voices this time round, especially when your mind is preoccupied with a couple months. Your birthday was a couple months ago, does that mean they started dating right after that conversation? Or were they already offical and you had waltzed in with your princess dreams about your brother’s best friend being in love with you.

It made perfect sense at the time, and no sense at all anymore as you wonder why on Earth he was being so forwardly flirty with you if there was another girl all along. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you recall how he had quit perceiving you altogether after that night, and you can’t help but mentally commend Jia for testing him by keeping it quiet. Especially when he was going around flirting with his best friend’s sister.

It didn’t take long for you to guage Mingyu’s reputation when you first dropped into university, the senior having made himself a reputation none less similar than he had in high school. He was popular, but with his outgoing personality and a face like that it was hard not to be liked. Your brother was right there beside him, living it up as carefree college kids, suddenly remembering he now had a little sister to tend to. You were grateful for the both of them for being there to help you take your first baby steps, all the rites of passage and which professors sucked the least, not leaving the leaky water fountain to never drink from.

That was when Mingyu’s (supposed) advances had begun.

You’re projected back to first semester, when both of them had dragged you to the same couch outside, talking about an “important thing you should know”.

“You walk into class one day, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Your professor drones on as usual, your classmates look bored as usual, you’re tired as usual. But then!” Seokmin breathes in sharply, and you hear Mingyu bound to the other side of your vision, emerging on the opposite end of the room with a backpack swung over his shoulder.

“The man of your dreams walks by…” Seokmin continues and you snap your head towards him in a panic, suddenly afraid he had found you out. He’s busy though, making ethereal hands in Mingyu’s general direction, while the latter walks in comedic slow motion like he’s in a K-drama b-roll, complete with passes over his hair and a nonchalant yet controlled expression.

“What is this about?” It comes out snappier than you had intended, but you’ve had one scare already.

“Just!” your brothers hands turn from graceful to clenched, like it was you he was trying to squish you for interrupting him, “Listen, alright?”

“The man of your dreams walks by,” he goes back to his narrator voice, “and you wonder where he’s been all your life. You start talking, you’re enamoured. You start thinking about introducing him to your parents, what your wedding’s gonna look like, what your kids are gonna look like!”

Your face is becoming increasingly warped the more you listen to him speak, not being able to fathom where this was going.

“But no!” It’s Mingyu that speaks this time, pushing a jolt out of you as he slams the backpack on the floor, pointing directly at you for added effect, “You’re better than that!”

“What the fuck-” you start, but are shushed by a physical finger on your lips as Mingyu shushes you. Seokmin slaps his hand away.

“Our point is, that you’re probably gonna come across someone who you think is your next boyfriend.” Your brother continues, “But lucky for you, you have two seasoned professionals here to tell you that it’s nothing but fresher’s fever.”

“It’s a new place, new people, loads of new experiences; you’re bound to latch on one of the first couple pieces of meat. Our advice is don’t, because it will happen to you. But you also now know that your just in a deluded stage right now. Give it a semester before you start dating people, trust.” Mingyu finishes for Seokmin as he thumps down on the couch next to you.

“So all of this was just another stay away from boys lecture?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Yes and no. You can date whoever you want,” Seokmin answers coolly before quickly adding, “but not right now.”

It was laughable, the thought of latching onto another person when you’d been trying exactly that for years. To have anyone catch your eye, to have anyone sweep you away from this madness that came in the form of Kim Mingyu. Neither of these seasoned professionals had a thing to worry about though, because you weren’t latching on anything that came out of this institute. You had already done so, in a stage more impressionable than this, years and years before any of them knew of the dangers of young girls and new boys in their vicinity.

“Okay, I know you’re like on a self inflicted party ban and all that…” Joshua starts the second he places himself at your table, still haggard looking from jogging across campus.

“Don’t even try.” You warn with filled cheeks.

“Girl, let him finish.” Nayeon chides next to you.

You exhale through your nose heavily, going back to pick at your tray as Joshua continues.

“Cheol’s throwing a little party tonight to celebrate the end of midterms.” He starts, “You should come, it's only gonna be a handful of people.”

“A handful?” You repeat, unable to bite back the amusement in your voice.

“Come on, your brother’s going as well! You’ll be fine, I promise we’ll keep you in check.”

“I don’t need to be kept in check, I’m fine.” You grumble.

“Perfect! Nothing stopping you then, I’ll pick you both up at 8.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s back to sprinting out the vicinity, garnering looks from oncoming traffic, off to his next pestering destination

“I don’t think I’d explicitly agreed.” You voice.

“He got what he wanted.” Nayeon snorts, “Whatever, we’ll get ready at my place after this.”

“Weren’t you guys worried about me? Now you’re actively dragging me to parties.” You drop your utensils onto the tray.

“Too much of either isn’t a good thing, you went from forgetting what home looks like to exclusively holing yourself up in there.” She stabs a piece of potato with a chopstick and tries to pry it in your mouth. “Besides, Cheol’s parties are always super intimate, they’re all gonna be people you know, don’t worry.”

‘Super intimate’, as Nayeon had put it, had amounted to at least fifty people as you take in the crowd at the floor of the house. Despite not being packed to the brim, it was still coming out to look like a full house, random items already scattered across the floors in true frat party fashion.

“Do you want a beer?” Nayeon asks, dragging you to the kitchens by the hand as you crane your neck to spot people.

“Uh, no. Is there juice?”

“Um, there’s a questionable looking fruit punch.” she wrinkles her nose at the blaring red bowl on the counter.

You sigh, grabbing a cup, “I’ll risk it.”

Joshua was air the second he had walked in with you, whisked away to socialize with his own hoard of acquaintances, leaving both you and Nayeon to fend for yourselves. You’re yet to spot your brother, granted you’d only been here a mere five minutes, his rowdy demeanor making him quite easy to spot in usual circumstances.

Taking a casual sip of the electric red liquid you’re forced to make a face as you register the flavour, alerting Nayeon, who was too busy fiddling through multiple crystal bottles.

“What? Is it bad?”

“What the fuck is that?” You sputter in astonishment, wondering how the bowl was already half empty. “Who’s drinking this stuff?”

She grabs the cup from you before taking a gulp herself, emerging the same gagging mess you were, eyes watering at the taste. It seemed almost comical when Seokmin shows up behind her, waiting to greet only to find both of you doubled over. His eyes move over to the potion in Nayeon’s hand and passes a knowing look.

“He’s brought The Whole Shabang out of retirement.” He states like it was the obvious answer.

Nayeon spits first, “Are we supposed to know what that means?”

“Cheol got drunk one time in freshman year and mixed every ounce of alcohol he owned into one big bowl of despair. We retired it last year when the bowl broke and stained his counters. But anyway, beginners are supposed to dilute it before downing it.”

“That’s great and everything but why is it so red?” You ask.

Another voice speaks from behind you, turning around to find Seungcheol himself. “There’s an entire thing of food colouring in there, gives it an edge don’t you think?”

“I’m scared of you.” You deadpan, a sour expression remaining on your face.

Seunghceol is quick to suggest the backyard for some fresh air to distract from the flavour it’s left in your mouths, commenting on the nice weather. Neither him nor your brother stick around for too long though, dipping at the holler of their names somewhere inside. You’re comfortable though, despite being blocked off by a concrete railing, the stairs make a nice haven for the both of you to lie down and stare into the clearer than usual sky. Cheol was right, it was nice outside.

“I can’t lay down like this, I need to get a drink.” Nayeon announces not even five minutes later.

“Why didn’t you get one when we were there?” You groan, but she doesn’t respond as she hops back inside, throwing a promise to be quick in the air behind her.

The wall supports you as you deflate into it, legs sprawled across the steps in disarray. Nobody could see you anyway, taking full advantage as you practically manspread. The side of the pool that’s in your vision is empty by grace; calm save for the giant flamingo floaty that bobs itself into view from the edge of the wall you lean against. A breathy laugh leaves you at the sight.

The railing on your other side is mostly concealed, you can still make out the wicker sofa set, complete with an unlit fireplace. It’s unoccupied, for the time being, as you register a conversation floating closer and closer to your ears. Wondering if Nayeon had brought friends, you stand up quickly to look over the railing to check for her face over the sliding door that leads inside.

There’s no Nayeon in sight.

But there is Mingyu.

His mere presence knocks your butt back onto the concrete the second you see him stumbling over the threshold with a hoard of his friends, nothing short of his picturesque party strut. There was little reason for you to hide from him at all, considering the very possible notion that he would look right past you if you happened across his line of sight. Space floating in, he’d ignore you for your sake or his own, perhaps even both.

For now, he’s seated himself with a few other people on the wicker sofas, leaving you hugging your knees to your chest, head on the concrete wall with the lingering feeling akin to that of a trapped mouse. Closing your eyes, you blow out air in an attempt to relax yourself, take light of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You could get up and leave in this very moment, possibly go unnoticed if you stalked back inside before they began their rattle not meant for your ears.

And yet, you find yourself unable to move, not even when you hear their topic shift to Mingyu’s new beau. Suddenly you wish you’d moved inside the moment you saw him.

“Was it you that stopped Jia from coming to parties?” You hear somebody ask.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Mingyu grumbles, he pauses and you assume he’s taking a swing of his drink. “We started going out and suddenly she didn’t wanna come, that’s fine though, it isn’t her vibe anyway.”

There’s a snigger that moves across everybody seated, you hear loud thwack before Mingyu speaks again, “What’s so fucking funny?”

“This girl’s made you work for it, huh?”

“Isn’t that like, his brand? Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one yapping about liking a challenge all the time.”

“Yeah, remember Minji?”

“I still think she was only pretending to not like you, her clique was always smacking at her to straighten up when you’d come over like we couldn’t see everything.” You could almost hear the eye rolling.

“Change the subject, will you?” Mingyu proposes, sounding exhausted at the prodding already.

“I apologise for the ex talk and nothing else.”

There’s a pause for another choke of laughter across the group, and you wonder what it was that they found so funny.

“I don’t know if I should say this…” Somebody begins, but is cut off by Mingyu.

“Then don’t say it.” He snaps, but you don’t miss his own jest.

“I honestly thought you were gonna date Seok’s sister at some point. I mean, common consensus is that bagging your best friend’s sister is… what you’d call a challenge.”

What the fuck.

You feel your eyes drifting closed at the turn this conversation has taken, wishing to simply fall asleep at what it’s come to. Somebody speaks up.

“Nah, that’s like, the grand slam prize, that one comes after he’s done hanging with the side quests.”

The situation is making itself out to be something out of a fever dream.

Mingyu tsks, and you note a jostle happening through the gaps of the railing. “I’m leaving.”

You find yourself hugging yourself tighter, eyes shut like he wouldn’t be able to see if you couldn’t see him. Not that it was possible unless he peered directly through the railing in his peripheral.

“OKAY! Okay! We’re kidding.” There’s a pause. “Okay, but really…”

Another pause, this time longer. You hate how you can picture the ghost of an exasperated smile on Mingyu’s face, a bite of his lip perhaps, dejected at the shoulder with his longing, distant look. You hate how your mind fills the gaps of him the railing won’t allow you to see.

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

There’s a chorus of hisses and oh’s, a few bounts of laughter in their disbelief. You can feel your stomach twist, heat pooling your figure.

It would’ve been better if his words had hit you like a gong, maybe the aftermath wouldn’t have felt as horrid. But the connotations crept up on you like a million spiders making their trek up to your brain, waiting to stick their crawlers in the bits that would allow those words to hold meaning for you. You can feel the electric red of Seungcheol’s god awful concoction begin to rise up in your throat like bile; burning, imprinting.

Mingyu had said what he had said. And everything was in it’s place, in finality.

Despite the nearly four year age gap, you and Seokmin had co-existed without the semblance of an older-younger duo. It was mostly owed to Seokmin's shy nature, and his difficulty making solid friends. That, however, didn’t last long as your brother progressed through middle school.

You had met Mingyu for the first time when Seokmin brought his first ever friend from school home for dinner.

Despite being barely nine years old and half spoon fed by your mother at the same table, the prospect of Seokmin’s new friend was equal to you having a new friend – which caused enough excitement as you brought your favourite cartoon books into your brother’s room to show this new person after dinner.

As the following year progressed, you saw less and less of your brother, and more and more of newer faces of ‘friends’ that you weren’t allowed to play with. It was distressing enough to be told by your mother that something of your brother’s was not yours, but even more so when you were kicked out of the room by Seokmin himself for the very first time.

It wasn’t as trauamtising as it felt in the moment, because you grew to find your own group of friends, doing the same as you’d kick your brother out for being annoying – except unlike you, he was doing it on purpose.

Mingyu was a recurring face, one that was nicer to you on the days your brother was meaner, more forgiving on the days your relatively new middle school was relentless. He fit himself in your life easier than you had realised, more comfortable than you soon found you were comfortable with.

“Did you take my guitar picks?” Your brother bursts into your room just as your about to fall into your after school nap, grip loosening on the book in hand.

Jolting awake at the sound of loud voice, you don’t respond as you attempt to orient yourself.

“Well? Did you?” He demands again.

“What? No, I don’t know where your stupid guitar pick is.” You grumble. “Get out.”

“It’s not in my room that has to mean you took it, where is it?”

Mingyu emerges from behind him, hand on his arm as he tries to pull his iron grip off of your doorway. “It’s probably just in your bag, you haven’t even looked!”

Kicking the covers off, you sit up in a disarray, progressively annoyed at your brother for ruining your perfect descent into dreamland.

“I don’t have shit, you just suck at keeping tabs on your stuff!” You grit.

There’s a stagnant pause as he stares at you from the doorway. You can sense it coming. And it does.

“MOM! SHE JUST SWORE!” He yells into the hallway, bounding to where your mother was, leaving an unsure Mingyu in your doorway.

Surprisingly, you were just glad he was gone, wanting to melt back into the covers. You make eye contact with Mingyu. “I really don’t have it.”

“It’s probably in there somewhere, he’s just not looking.” He mumbles, standing a little awkward. “Um, go back to whatever it was, I’ll close your door.”

He does so, allowing you to finally slump back into your pillows to go back to your nap.

You find out quickly that you couldn't sleep after that.

The controller is becoming increasingly uncomfortable to hold. It doesn’t help that you’re brother is chewing on his four additional pieces of gum behind you on the couch, making obnoxious comments about your gaming form.

You’re also sitting a foot away from Kim Mingyu on the floor, with whom you’re forced to battle out on Mario Kart.

“Why’re you clicking the buttons so hard, chill out.” You heat Seokmin say, continued by his wet chomping right by your ear.

“How hard is it to chew with your mouth closed?” Mingyu grits.

“What? Like this?” Seokmin leans over to Mingyu, chewing even louder, mouth wrenched open and closed right into his ear. Mingyu makes a sound before falling to his side, covering his ears at the ghastly sound, pushing him back with his free hand to shut him up.

You barely crack a smile at the unfolding, watching them continue to wrestle half on the floor. It’s noisy when you set your controller down, chest heavy, unfolding your legs to walk into the hallway to your room. Unnoticed.

You only reemerge to feed yourself, inspecting the fridge for possible leftovers. Settling on an apple, you’re closing the fridge when you see Mingyu walk in, seemingly taken aback to see you there. You freeze with your mouth still attached to the apple to take a bite.

“Oh! Where’d you go when we were playing? Didn't notice you gone till I got him to spit that wad of gum out his mouth.”

“Uh, just tired. Took a nap.”

He hums in response and you're just about to leave when he starts talking again.

“Hey, did you move the popcorn somewhere else? Could’ve sworn it was in here last week,” he mumbles as he rummages through a cabinet.

“Oh. Um. It’s in the pantry.” You move before you can think, grabbing the box and slamming it on the counter, pausing briefly before reaching for the popcorn bowl and setting it on the counter next to it. “Here.”

You don’t wait for a reply before grabbing your apple and moving out the kitchen, only to bump into your brother at the door.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Napping,” you say, moving around him to go your own way but are stopped yet again as he calls for you.

“We’re gonna watch a movie! You can lie on the couch.”

Turning around, you catch sight of your brother still in the doorway, and more intriguing, Mingyu also expecting an answer from inside the kitchen behind him. You gulp as you attempt to remain casual.

“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun.”

You’re nearly at your door when you hear your brother speak. “She didn’t even ask what we were watching.”

Nayeon catches up with you before you notice, pulling your headphones away from your ears to announce her presence, not slowing down as you walked to campus.

“Are you still upset about that Mingyu thing?” She asks when noting your silent demeanor. “We talked about this, come on.”

“Yeah and we concluded that it’s not an easy thing for me to just get over.” You huffed.

“You know what he’s like…”

“Which is why I should’ve seen this all coming.” You turn around the corner with her.

“That’s not what I meant either.”

“I don’t know what came over me that day. I was doing so well for so long and I had to go ruin it because I’m – I deluded myself into thinking I had a chance.” You’re breathing heavily when you find a table in the air conditioned common room, yanking your bag off and slumping into the sofa. “None of this would’ve happened if I just shut the fuck up.”

“What wouldn’t have happened?” Seungcheol plops down next to Nayeon, butting into the conversation.

“Aren’t you intrigued.” Nayeon muses.

“Especially when it’s none of my business.”

“Charming.”

“Anywho,” he sighs, throwing himself back against the couch. “I’ve been tasked with rounding people up for an assignment.”

“Are you gonna experiment on us?” you ask, referring to his chemistry major.

“Nah, this is for an elective. Faculty needs volunteers for a photography class.”

“So they need models?” You ask.

“I mean, anyone who signs up is automatically a model, so yeah they need models.”

“Are we getting paid?”

“You get to say you modeled for me.”

“How convincing.” Nayeon deadpans.

You’re stifling a snicker as you see Joshua walking up to where you were sat, planting himself next to you.

“What’re we talking about?” He asks, pulling his laptop out almost immediately.

“Nothing, just how Seungcheol needs a reality check,” you sigh.

He barely acknowledges the comment, going straight to business typing away. “Hey, you're staying for the summer right?”

“Ew,” Seungcheol voices.

“I am,” You confirm.

“For what?” He sputters.

“Is this you offering to pay for a round trip?”

He silences quickly after that, giving room for Joshua to ask his next question.

“Are your parents coming for your brother’s grad?”

“Mhm, only for the night, though.”

“Oh, did you hear back from the bookstore too?” he asks.

“I’m gonna apply right before break, I’m swamped right now.”

“Let me know when you do, the restaurant might need another hire, you could work there if you want.”

You make a face. “Appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think I’m in the right state of mind to be working in customer service.”

Joshua’s hands freeze over his keyboard as he breathes out a delayed laugh. Nayeon mimics him.

“Right state of mind?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Wait, what were you talking about before I sat down again-”

He’s cut off by a voice bellowing your name from across the common room. All four of you perk up at the sound, locking in on Mika aggressively pointing her wrist at you from yards away. You sit up with a jerk, checking the time. You were nearly thirty minutes late for your lecture.

“Josh, move.” You basically climb over him to get out of your seat, waving a hasty goodbye as you sprint to an exasperated Mika.

“I’ve been waiting outside the hall for ages, you said we’d go in together!” she chides as you both speedwalk.

“Sorry, I lost track of time…” You huff out a breath. “I just started talking about…whatever.”

“Why’d you have that face on in there?” she asks.

“Huh? Oh, I was-”

“Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.” She picks up the pace and reaches the door before you do, rendering it impossible for you to speak to her after that.

You’ve forgotten about it by the time you come home to an empty house, both Mika and Nayeon in your arms. It doesn’t take long for them to make themselves comfortable on the couch, looking at you expectantly like children waiting to be fed. You do that, courtesy of the half eaten pizza that sits on the coffee table.

“I think you need to get drunk,” Nayeon voices from her end of the couch.

Mika is immediate with her response, “Don’t encourage her.”

“Hey!” You pout, “I haven’t gotten drunk in a while.”

“Keep it that way,” she shudders, “don’t need another Mingyu fiasco.”

Your chewing slows at the sound of his name, a strange feeling settling in your stomach at the thought of him. Setting down your half eaten slice, you brush off your fingers.

“I mean…” Nayeon starts after a long pause.

“We don’t. Need another Mingyu fiasco, I mean.” You cut in.

“If only he’d learn to shut up.” Nayeon grumbles, a sour expression on her face.

Mika’s been shifting looks between the both of you, seemingly confused. “Am I missing something?”

Despite not having the intention, you find yourself telling her what you heard while enclosed in the staircase. You attempt to keep it concise, for the sake of your own sanity, but Nayeon’s grumbling is only pushing you deeper into a rant. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let a couple frustrated tears make their way down your face.

Mika’s response as brisk as your explanation was passionate, brushing over the topic quickly before you got too heated. You appreciated it.

“Have you considered signing up for the photography thing?” Mika asks.

“You know, I was thinking about that too.” Nayeon pulls a finger up in signed patience to wait till she finished the remaining pizza in her mouth. “You should do it. It’ll put your mind off…him. You’ll be busier too.”

“I have a million things to do, I’m busy enough.” You retort.

“You’re busy studying at home. Where he could drop in at any point of day.” She points.

Your open your mouth to rebut again, only to close it as you fail to find a reason to deny her point. “Okay, still!”

“Just – think about it, okay. It’ll put more on your plate but maybe it’ll help.”

That was the last of your Mingyu talk, not that you could carry on when your brother comes slumping into the house after his class, stealing a slice of pizza as he makes his way to his room. He’s slumped at the shoulders, and you egg him to take a nap before he collapsed on the living room floor.

Both Nayeon and Mika are quick to leave after that, leaving you with leftover pizza and your thoughts.

You sprawl your things out on the coffee table, taking advantage of the silent house to get some work done. Nayeon was right, as you think of the prospect of Mingyu entering at any given moment to bother your brother as a constant threat.

It’s not until your prepping dinner with Seokmin that the project is brought up again.

“There’s leftover Chow Mein Mingyu made yesterday, shove that in too.” He yawns as he pushes the box over.

You can only stare at the box in mild agitation, contemplating if you should simply chuck it into the garbage chute. Unfortunately, by experience, you knew Mingyu made really good Chow Mein, so you begrudgingly slide the opened box into the microwave to heat up, deciding you’d push Seok to eat it before you have a chance to take a bite.

It’s silent while you eat, Seokmin still in a daze from his earlier nap, shoving spoonfuls of noodles in between bites of pizza. It’s not until your halfway through eating before he jolts up slightly like he’d just remembered something.

“Did you hear about that volunteering thing from the photography department? They want models for some project.”

“Oh, yeah.” You pause, thinking back to what Nayeon had proposed. “Are you gonna sign up?”

“No, but you should.”

“I don’t know, I still have a lot of prep for finals.”

“You get extra credit if it helps,” he notes.

That was news to you. There’s a frown on your face as you deny, “No, you don’t.”

“They’re doing it ‘cause they weren’t getting the response they wanted. I found out just now too, they’re gonna put it up on the bulletin tomorrow. Might wanna decide before then.”

There were no questions asked after the realization, blue light of the laptop casting your face aglow in the darkened room as you hit the big blue Confirm button on the website. Skimming through the subsequent email, you find you won’t be needed till next week, the date and time making it’s way to your calendar.

Now, if you had known what the next week truly held for you, there was no doubt you’d be sending in a cancellation email at first chance.

But you didn’t know. So you simply went to bed, falling asleep to the vague idea of searching for modeling tips on youtube during the coming weekend, entertaining the mild possibility that this might be the thing that puts you at peace at last.

The photography classes are held in regular lecture rooms, as you find out as you file into the sparingly filled hall at the date your calendar has graciously alerted you for. There was an image of a larger, more spacious area for a discipline pertaining to the arts, yet to be fair, the idea of having to create this form of art within a four walled containment did seem a little counter productive.

Nonetheless, you find yourself seated in a spare chair, waiting for the clock to hit nine on a Saturday morning for the shuffling professor at the front of the room to begin. Your eyes make passovers across the gradually filling room, searching for a semblance of Seuncheol’s bright blond hair to wave him over. There’s no sign of him five minutes before the minute hit twelve, and you’re thinking about slipping to the restroom before it can to kill the remaining time.

There’s another person filing into the room as you rise from your chair, and you pause in attempt to recognize Cheol in the grey zip up.

Except you don’t find Seungcheol, not at all.

Mingyu is walking into the classroom, gaze sweeping across the hall as he seats himself in the front bottom row, head thrown back as he sifts through his perfect hair with his fingers.

You aren't sure why your brows furrowed like they did, or why you planted your butt back onto the chair with the force that you did; especially when all you wanted to do was book it out of the room in full velocity.

He was taking this class. Of course you knew that, especially when it was all he would yap about at any point he graced your presence.

You can feel your purpose in the room fade to nothing as you register him as a unit. You want to blame someone, but you know it’s all you fault. You knew he’d be here; if your mind had only thought fit to remind you at any point in the past week.

In regular Mingyu fashion, if he’d seen you, he does nothing to show it as you find him unraveling a loose thread off of his jacket. You keep your eyes on him, remaining mortified at your blatant disregard to the information that Mingyu was also in this class. Come to think of it, it was probably Mingyu who told Seokmin about the added credit in the first place. You want to kick yourself for not questioning your brother’s apparent magical source of information.

There’s nothing that can be done as you feel Seungcheol finally slip into the seat next to you just as the professor in the front of the room begins to speak. You’re not in the right headspace to make conversation, so you're grateful for the small acknowledgment as the professor begins to drone.

“Each student has been given a theme to work with, they’re all different and given to the people whom I saw fit for the job. You’ll be receiving your packets with your theme today, so remember to pick them up from the front desk before you leave,” she begins.

“As for your models,” she switches to the next slide over to reveal a spreadsheet full of names. “Their names will be right next to yours, the photography students.”

The entire room lurches forward as a unit, eyes squinted and whispers exchanged as they search for their partners in the sea of names. Seungcheol is zooming in on the picture he took with his phone, eyes zooming over to find his name.

“Hey, I found yours!” he announces, moving the phone over to you.

He’s zoomed into your full name on the screen, and your moving the picture aside to see the name across from it. Except, you find you wish you hadn’t.

—Kim, Mingyu.

If you needed more confirmation that the universe was simply against you, you’d gotten the message as you prayed the letters would morph into something else before your very eyes.

You seem to have been staring at the name for too long, because Seungcheol snatches his phone back from your grip to see for himself after you refused to answer his questions of what the name next to yours was.

“Oh, it’s Mingyu! That’s easy, you're basically related.”

You wanted to slap him.

Before you can stop him, he’s yelling the boy’s name across the room amidst the growing chatter, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. “Mingyu! I found your model, she’s right here!

You wanted to squeeze Seungcheol’s neck till his head popped off.

Mingyu turns around at the call, registering his friend’s words despite the growing noise. He registers you and you watch as he turns his head back at the projection, like he was confirming it was true.

Of course he’s as petrified as you are, if not more. But the embarrassment of his apparent disbelief made its hot way into your stomach and chest nonetheless, your breakfast threatening to make its way back up.

By the time the professor’s done with her bit and the room has begun to file out, you’ve found yourself standing outside the lecture hall in uncomfortable movement, shifting your weight between both feet and fiddling with the straps of your bag. Every passing face sends a jolt though your stomach as you calculate how jarring it would be if you left right this second without seeing him.

You're counting his steps inside your head, how he’d shuffle for his name on the packet he’s meant to receive, counting in any conversation he’d start with a friend or with the professor. A thought occurs to you, and you wonder if he was searching for you inside. You’re weighing between walking inside and leaving altogether when he makes the decision for you, walking out of the room, booklet in hand.

There goes the toast blaring its way back up your esophagus.

“Hey,” he says unceremoniously.

You respond with an unreasonably meek “Hi.”

“Seok didn’t tell me you signed up for this.” He points casually.

Well, Seok doesn’t need to tell you everything.

“Oh, I told him while he was like half asleep, pretty sure he thought he dreamt it.”

Mingyu snorts a little at that, a slight smile appearing on his face as he pictures a sleepy Seokmin.

“I can imagine,” he says, before he’s brought back to the matter at hand by you.

You clear your throat before you begin to talk, expression remaining neutral. “Do we need to get started right away?”

“Oh.” He seems a little taken aback at your forwardness. Like he didn’t know why you didn’t want to make small talk with him. “Uh, I don’t even know what theme I have yet. I’ll read over the packet and plan a couple things out before you have to come in.”

“That’s great.” You hold on the straps of your tote. “Text me when you need me.”

With that, you had spun on your heel and stalked away, not leaving room for him to retort with anything at all. You don’t look back.

Nayeon can do nothing but gape as she watches you hold back frustrated tears, picking apart the grass under you as you curse the heavens for your horrible fate. She’s absorbing the situation as you wallow, finding the words to say.

“Fuck, this is my fault,” she breathes out.

“No!” You gasp out, furiously wiping away the irritating tears. “It’s not. I just forgot, it’s my own fault. You were right for trying to get me to do it, it just…”

“You can’t ask to change partners?” she asks.

“I can’t!” You wail, “I’m supposed to not care, how is this me not caring?”

It was ridiculous. Truly. You were sobbing like a child over this, screaming about wanting to not care. But you did care. Too much. Nayeon can do little but hold you as you sniffle into her lap, feeling sick to your stomach at your own childish behaviour.

“Why am I crying about this, this is stupid.”

“You’re stressed, hon, that’s it. You’ve got a lot going on and this just multiplied it.” She’s running a soothing hand over your back. “Just let it out, you need it.”

You emerge from your hunched position to sit up straight, sniffling a little less as you calm down. “Should I withdraw from the project?”

“I mean, if you really want to,” she says softly.

“But?” You sense her apprehension.

“But, maybe you should give it a go.”

You can only blink at her with wet lashes.

“Think of it this way. You need to… build resistance, keep yourself around him regardless. There’s bound to come a point where you start to feel…nothing.”

“Are you trying to work exposure therapy on me?”

“Maybe? If that’s what it means. If you take yourself out of the project, it shows that you care. You need to pretend to not care before you can stop feeling the real thing.”

There’s a pause as you attempt to find reason in her words.

“Listen, I may be talking out of my ass, and if you do end up doing it, it’s gonna be hard – like a lot, but–”

“No. You’re making sense.”

“I am?” She blinks, taken aback at the realisation that you may be listening to her. You nod quietly, “You’re right, I can’t keep running away.”

“So, you’re gonna do it?” She confirms with wide eyes.

Once again, you find it within yourself to nod.

Yeah. You were gonna do it.

Being in Mingyu’s presence and feeling nothing may be the goal, but you realise quickly it’s going to take you a while to restrain the trailing eyes that follow him wherever he goes. Nayeon had warned you, but you realise you may be slightly ill-prepared.

The theme is light. Vague to you but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He isn’t looking at you as he talks, eyes darting between the laptop screen and the plethora of papers he’s scattered on the coffee table. “I don’t really have a colour preference for this one but a a deeper blue or a purple would fit pretty well with the sunlight on here.”

You can only nod along in mild understanding, most of your effort exerted on trying to keep your eyes on the screen where he’s pulling up a color wheel. “I probably have something.”

“Do you still have that button up Seok bought you? The one with the stripes?”

You recall the deep blue shirt your brother had gotten you for your first in class presentation, picturing it hung still in your closet. “Uh, yeah I do. I’ll wear it.”

“Bring options, whatever fits the colours. No turtlenecks or crewnecks though…” Mingyu continues to talk, taking notes for you in the process. Your mind, however, is somewhere else.

You hate how your mind takes you to a murkier place, one where the thought of him retaining memory of your closet pieces unprovoked has your neck tingling and your cheeks lifting. Trying to snap out of it before he notices your dazed expression, you pretend to flip through the couple papers in front of you, noting nothing.

“Other than that–” he’s cut off by his phone ringing on the table. Both your gazes dart to the caller ID, and you immediately wish you hadn’t as you register the pink heart on the end. Jia was calling.

He barely spares you a glance as he excuses himself in a mumble, something about being back in a second. You watch him leave through the cafe altogether, emerging on the other end of the glass walls in your direct vision. For the nth time that day, you find it impossible to tear your eyes away from his positively elated face, teeth out on display as talks to his girlfriend. You wonder what they’re talking about, if her face is beaming like his own, wherever she is.

You zone out as you wonder what it’d be like to be the receiving end of an expression like that. To have something within you to be worth his smile, his mumbled pardons and his uninterrupted space. There’s a part of you that wonders if its greed – you’ve gotten to see him nearly everyday for the past decade, perhaps you’ve run your tickets dry.

You realise quickly that Mingyu is no longer in your line of sight as you feel a ruffle on the chair as he sits back on his seat.

“I think we can wrap up here, let me take the first couple shots before I can see where to go with it afterwards.”

You sense his eager want to leave, and you cannot help but beat him to it for your own sake.

“Alright. I’ll see you friday then.” SLiding out of your seat, you make a halfhearted attempt at shuffling his papers in a neater pile, throwing him a half smile before grabbing your bag.

He isn’t watching you leave, you know that. Yet you find yourself refusing to slow down or look back till you round the corner, letting your shoulders finally slump and your pace to come to a temporary halt. It takes you another beat before you begin walking again, breathing in slowly as you navigate your way through the moderately crowded sidewalk. Nearly ramming into a fire hydrant, you shake off the seize that remains in your body, picking up the pace hoping it’d promote less thoughts.

It works, as you unlock your front door, finally shaking off the autopilot. Shifting to the kitchen is easy, rummaging the cabinets for your hidden stash of moonpies with the intention to devour the family box whole. You’re contemplating texting Seokmin to bring you actual food as you make your way to your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to let your covers absorb all the feelings that make you human.

You find it unfortunate as you catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror and the outfit you’d put together before you had left. Your mind goes back to pandemonium as you take in the details, wondering why on earth you’d put in so much effort for a conversation that lasted less than an hour. You tear your eyes away before you begin to truly hate yourself, ripping your jewelry off as you make a beeline to wash your face clean of the makeup you’d put on.

It becomes increasingly difficult to look at yourself even in the bathroom mirror, moisturizer going on more aggressively than what’s good for you. You feel a sting in the back of your eyes and owe it to the face wash.

It’s easier once you’re in bed, your laptop at the ready, and a text on its way as you bug your brother to bring you your favorite burger and milkshake combo. You put your immediate faith in your moonpies for now as you rip the first one open, letting the sweetness bring you a deluded happiness.

“His name hurts.” Your voice comes out echoey, the sound reverberating in the cavern of your chest. The shot on the table is inviting, but you can’t help but feel nauseous at the thought of downing it. Your fizzled out sprite is being good to you, so you let it.

“Hearing you talk about him hurts,” Mika slurs, slumping down onto the beanbag she’s dragged onto the scene, joining you and Nayeon next to the couch.

Letting out a loud sigh that you doubt she can hear over the bass booming across the house, you settle to rest your head back on the couch backrest, staring into the ceiling. “Imagine what it’s doing to me then.”

“I don’t need to.” You can hear the exasperation in her voice.

“Oh, hey, Hao!” Nayeon drags next to you and you lift your head up to see Mika’s boyfriend join her on the already tiny beanbag. He huffs out a hey between a slight smile, slumping almost entirely on his girlfriend. She pats his hair in silent regard.

“I read this research paper about how they can delete the memories out of your brain squiggles,” Nayeon pops in.

“Since when do you read academic material for interest?” Minghao mumbles, fingers busy playing with Mika’s hair.

The pair continue to bicker as your eyes trail across the moderately packed house, the party looking more lowbeat than any other Seungcheol extravaganzas. Not that you were complaining, but when you spot a certain someone, it’s hard not to.

Mingyu files into the kitchen with your brother in tow, beaming face evident over the island as he pours himself what looks like orange juice. Your mood is instantly soured.

“What study was that again?” You poke at Nayeon, the image of the man you wished for gone burned into your forebrain. She glances over to the open kitchen and realises what you’re talking about, coming around with a face of her own.

“That one’s gonna be a hard one to scrub out. But it’s okay, even the toughest stains succumb to bleach that’s strong enough,” she sighs. You’re barely listening to her analogy, not when he’s standing right there rendering it impossible for you to look anywhere else.

“You sound like a commercial.” You can almost hear the crinkle in Mika’s nose as she comments, and you can’t help but breathe out a laugh.

The rest continue with their conversation as you remain quiet for most of the exchange, eyes filling your heart heavy with the way they remain glued to the figure far out into the kitchen. It was less about the fact that you just wanted to look at him and more of how it was forcing you to think about your predicament; something that was weighing you down yet something you couldn’t help.

You can’t be entirely sure how long you managed to stare without getting caught, but when Mika calls your name out harsher than expected, you snap around to divert your attention.

“Huh?”

“Sixth time’s the charm, huh? Get it together, he’s not gonna look at you,” she huffs as she slumps back onto the beanbag, alone this time as you note that Minghao is gone.

It takes you a moment to gather what she had said, mouth gaping open and close as you try to conspire a proper response. “I wasn’t trying–”

“No. Save it. It was my fault for thinking I could sit here without having to sit through more of your Mingyu bullshit.” She’s shuffling out of her bean bag with mediocre difficulty, exasperation on her face as she trudges away to sit with her boyfriend and his friends on the seats on the middle of the floor.

The air seems to have knocked out of your chest as you find the capacity to process what just happened. Seemingly forgotten Nayeon was also here, you note the hand she places on your elbow as a sober attempt to get you to look at her.

The rest of the night passes in a nauseous blur, none that you could really make sense of. You bid Nayeon goodbye as you assured her you’d go home with your brother, waving goodbye to blurred taxi lights as she leaves you alone in front of a dwindling house.

The breath you let out is shaky as your feet remain planted on the concrete, the remnants of tonight passing over you as they came. Deciding you owed it to yourself, you let the tears well up in your eyes. As tired as you were of crying over what was essentially the same thing over and over again, you let yourself tire yourself out once more.

The party was over, and you knew that because you were walking home alone, hoping Nayeon would forgive you for lying to her. But you couldn’t possibly explain the tear stains on your cheeks to your brother, not when he knew nothing. It was better that way; you refuse to be the person that potentially ruins a friendship that’s lasted longer than any other.

You try to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you trudge slowly in the dark, not bothering to wipe your tears. Your stomping grows louder the more you grow frustrated with your thoughts, and it proves not too well for you. There’s a pair of headlights throwing light onto the oncoming street, illuminating you in the process. You want to kick yourself as the realisation settles in, praying the car would simply pass you. Considering the late hour and the fact that you were alone is hitting you at the worst time, wondering if you could pretend to make a call as you walked.

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down.

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention.

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel.

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car.

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further.

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns.

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.”

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard.

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed.

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended.

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister.

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.”

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat.

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride.

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.”

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

Middle school was harder than you thought.

Not that you expected it to be easy, but you remained hopeful nonetheless. Fifth grade came plowing for you with an unexpected vigor, which you were feeling especially as you gripped your red marked paper with a vice grip.

It was Mingyu who had found you on the kitchen island sniffling, waiting for your mother to come home and ask you for your dreaded test results.

You drop your head in shame (even more so) when he asks you the inevitable question of “what’s wrong?” Your voice comes out as a mumble. “I failed my first test.”

He blinks as he stops in front of the fridge, opening it to emerge with a carton of chocolate milk and two monsters. He slides the carton over to you as he takes a seat on the other chair.

“Well, what did you get?” he asks as he pops his can open, ears studded black from the piercings he’d gotten done.

You mumble out the number in incoherence that has him hunching down to hear you.

“What?”

“A fifteen!” you finally huff out in exasperation.

“Hm. Better than me I think I got a two at some point. Don’t worry about it, it's not the end of the world.” He says. “D’you want me to turn that into a seventy five?”

You look up confused. “How?”

“You’ll see. Get me your test. And a red marker.”

On that day, Mingyu aided you in your first con, pulling lines to turn the one into a seven right before your eyes.

“There. Now don’t let her look at it too hard or check your answers. And only give it to her if she asks for it.”

He had left back to your brother’s room with the spare can of monster, leaving you to stash your test into your bag and move to seat yourself in a more natural position. You’d gotten away with it as your mother pats you on the back for your first attempt at a fifth grade paper, leaving you with a lesson to work harder, and a memory that stayed with you for years.

The following day is met with a pit of guilt sitting in your stomach before you could even recall the events of last night.

There’s little that you can do to prep as you’re supposed to change at the studio anyway, pushing the remnants of your makeup products into a pouch as a second thought. Your hair seemed fine, deciding you’d see to it if it needed changing when you got there.

You push your departure as far as you could, finding more things to do and more chores to finish before you were due to leave. It takes you a final look at the time before you finally decide to trudge to the door with your things. You cross paths with Seokmin who’s only just coming home, looking worse for wear. He barely acknowledges you as he makes a beeline for his bedroom, disappearing.

He’s probably fine.

By the time you get to the studio Mingyu is already in the middle of setting up, immersed in the switches behind giant studio lights. It’s dark, save for the one studio light thats already on, casting a light on the white backdrop, a single stool sits at the front. Looking around, the place casts an eerie atmosphere, the unattended stations and dark back rooms casting a shiver down your spine despite the Afternoon light outside. Perhaps you were acclimated to the hustle and bustle in behind the scene videos of photoshoots, yet here it was just you and Mingyu.

He doesn’t notice you come in right away, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to recast your words in your head, waiting to be uttered as soon as you say your hellos.

“Oh, hey,” he says normally.

“Hope I’m not too late.”

“No, you’re fine, I’m nearly done setting up,” he says, as he switches the second studio light on, doubling the glow in the room.

“Oh, okay.” Your voice comes out as an uncharacteristic whisper. “Uh, listen, Mingyu, I just wanted to apologize about last night. You were only asking and I was being too harsh.”

He picks up his back from his bent position to look at you, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Oh, no, don’t say that, It’s me who should be apologising. I shouldn’t have pried when you said you didn’t wanna talk about it. I’m sorry, really.”

You're opening your mouth to rebut, nails clashing onto each other as your fidgeting gets worse, but you decide to end it. “We’re both sorry, let’s just end this here.”

Both of you have slightly uncomfortable smiles on your faces as Mingyu continues to fidget with his cables and equipment. It went smoother than you’d thought, silently thanking him for keeping it from getting awkward – more awkward than necessary anyway.

“These ones are gonna be basic studies, establishing the usual studio lights in the beginning before we move to the more experimental shots.” He drags his own stool forward to sit directly across from you in front of the plain white backdrop. “Did you bring another black top?”

“I did, do you want me to change?”

“Not yet.” He positions the camera higher, looking like he’s ready. “Okay, relax your body. Shoulders back, chin down. Okay, now a smile, really small, barely there.”

He snaps his first photo and you nearly knock yourself backwards on the stool, lights going off at the shot damn near blinding you.

“You good?”

“I thought the flash was just gonna be your camera.” You frown, coming round.

“Nah, you’ll get used to it. Okay, back in position.”

He takes a couple more pictures, urging you to make miniscule changes to your poses, whatever feels good. You find yourself loosening up, your posture aiding you instead of working against you. “Try putting your hands on the stool, yeah like that, lean forward. Chin up a little more.”

The directions continue from behind the camera as he continues to flash away, and you do your utmost to not let the lights disorient you too much. He lets you take a break when you make a comment about the pure thermal energy in the room, your face no doubt shiny and red from the lights. You’re done after you take a couple more pictures after an outfit change, rendering you free to leave within the hour.

“I think you’re done,” he announces, stretching as he leaves his own stool. “I’ll send you deets for tomorrow, we’ll probably get a lot more done.”

“Oh, cool.”

Gathering your stuff doesn’t take you as you go up to tell him you’re about to leave. You find him fiddling with cables, packing everything up before leaving himself. You make a split second decision, dropping your bag before announcing yourself.

“Let me help.”

“Huh? Oh no, it’s fine. I just need to shove them in storage.”

“That’s alright, I’ll help. What d’you want me to do?”

“Uh, Maybe unplug all the ports, and um, turn the lights on too, I guess. It’s gonna get dark if you don’t.”

Cleaning up was easier when those god awful studio lights weren’t overheating the entire hall, collecting cables and putting equipment back into their places. It was over before you knew it.

“Is your car back from the workshop?” Mingyu yells from inside one of the side rooms collecting his stuff.

“Not yet, I’m getting it back on the 15th. Ordered a cab.”

“You’re going home from here, right?” He emerges from the room, arms in the middle of slipping into his jacket. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, it’s fine I have to meet Nayeon at uni and–”

“Even better, I was going there too. Come on, I just need to kill the lights.”

You’re out of saviours, evident as you slide into his car, yet again with no choice. It’s meant to be a short drive, considering the studio is barely ten minutes away from where you need to be, yet it feels like an impromptu road trip with the way the roads seem to stretch.

It’s significantly less awkward than last night, perhaps owed to him not being as inclined to make conversation, unlike last night.

By the time he’s pulling up, you already have your bag in hand, a thank you frozen on your tongue as you register who it is that’s standing outside the library. You groan internally as you see Nayeon waiting for you, immersed in something on her phone. Praying she stays occupied, you rush your, “thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” as you hope she doesn’t see you slip out of the familiar car.

She does notice. Looking up at the sound of yout door opening, she catches clear sight of you stepping out of the car, Mingyu in the driver’s seat. You can tell she’s subdued her reaction, but the eyebrows gives her away as they shoot up at the sight. Trudging up to her is a nightmare and a half, dreading the questions she’s going to ask as you hear Mingyu rev away.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she breathes out, eyes wide, mouth open in jest.

“Quit it, I have work to get done.” You choose to lead her straight into the library where you know she won’t be able to ask you any more probing questions.

That doesn’t seem to sedate her though as she continues to whisper a million questions, watching you pull your stuff out.

“I had a shoot with him today, he offered to drop me off and I couldn’t say no!”

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims a little too loud, owing a couple nasty surrounding looks her way, including yours. She continues quieter, pulling your laptop away from you so you’d pay more attention to her. “How’d it go? Did you pose all sexy for him, did he look nervous?”

“I did not pose sexy, I posed normally, because I have a conscience,” you snap, yanking your laptop back from her grip.

She’s smiling like an idiot, unaffected by your annoyance. “Is he gonna drop you off after every shoot? Oh my god! Don’t you dare get your car from the garage, give it to Seokmin, or, or, tell them to keep it!”

“Nayeon, shush!” It’s your turn to whisper shout at her gradually increasing volume, pushing her to quit leaning over the desks.

“Okay, okay.” She sobers up.

“I’m supposed to be getting over him, why are you so happy about this? Indifference, remember? It was you who brought it up.”

“Yes, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t look, I don’t know, like, you know!”

Once she’s a little less giddy, you finally tell her about last night – leaving out the bit where he droppped you home for the sake of the library and its inhabitants.

“I mean, I know we aplogised and everything, but I felt a little less… on fire around him. Other than those stupid studio lights, those were turning the place into a sauna. But I could meet his eyes without hyperventilating,” you explain, eyes downcast as you speak.

“I imagine his eyes were covered with that camera anyway, but progress, I guess,” Nayeon comments.

“Maybe I needed to get mad at him to feel better, I don’t know. But it feels like I’m making progress for the first time.”

“I told you this would be good for you, give it a couple more weeks and it’ll be like Mingyu never happened.”

It takes a conscious attempt to not scoff. Like Mingyu never happened to your heart. That’s a heart you can’t recognise.

The first time Seokmin had brought girls over was a day you couldn’t forget, no matter how hard you tried.

You were padding down to the kitchen, still bleary eyed and pyjama clad from your nap, making a beeline for the fridge to get a glass of water. Your trip is cut short, however, when you realised the living room was not as empty as you expected. It’s a crowd (to your eleven year old self, anyway) of people your brother’s age. You catch a couple familiar faces, friends of your brother who visited often, Mingyu is part of the lumps on the couch with them.

What stumped you, however, were the girls that were seated in between, eyes equally trained on you as everyone else in the room.

“Oh, who’s this Seok?” one of the girls asked.

“My little sister. D’you wanna say hi?” he asked you, neck craned to look at you.

“Uh. Hi,” you whisper, gulping.

There’s a chorus of hi’s that came bounding at you. You could feel the embarrassment creep up your entire body, feeling conscious for the first time in your life. They were staring at you. They were smiling, but you hated it.

You weren’t thinking as you turned around to sprint back upstairs, not missing the tinkle of laughs coming from the living room.

“Oh, she’s cute,” you had heard. That had you nearly starting to cry.

You’d be lying if you said your little crush on Mingyu hadn’t started blossoming for a while at that point. Being younger meant you were constantly fighting to be seen, even more so when you’d do anything for Mingyu to look at you. Hogging your brother’s bean bag until you were kicked out, putting sparkly clips in your hair before you went to the kitchen, laughing especially loud when you knew he could hear.

And yet, despite everything, for the very first time, you hated that Mingyu was looking at you, watching you idle and awkward while he sat next to a bunch of prettier, older girls.

That night was of many firsts, including the first time you had ever cried over Mingyu.

Mingyu claimed this was the last shoot, that he’d be done after this final set of shots.

You’re having a hard time though, because he’s decided his studio for the day was gonna be at the top of a mountain at the asscrack of dawn.

“We have fifteen minutes,” he announces.

“To live?” You heave, crouching on the gravel to give your body a break.

“Till sunrise,” he interjects, reversing to get to your crouched figure. You feel him grab hold of the straps of your bag, swinging it over his own shoulder. “Come on, just a little more.”

“You’ve been saying that for an hour.” You groan, picking yourself up off the path to resume your trudging. Mingyu stays next to you this time.

“Did you pack your entire house in here, the fuck is this so heavy for,” he grunts.

“You're the one asking for a bajillion outfit changes, I’m just doing what you asked.”

“One change of clothes and a compact doesn’t weigh this much, are you disposing a body up here?”

“Might be yours if I don't see that damn railing in a minute.”

“I think you're hungry,” he huffs out.

“I think I need to never agree to do this again.”

“Salavation!” he yelps as he sees a vending machine in the distance, quite literally glowing (with its fluorescent lights).

“I don’t need a water bottle, Mingyu, I need to lie down.” Your voice grows more gruff by the minute, legs nearly giving away.

“No, the vending machine means…” He bounds up the last couple leaps to the glowing box with a burst of motivation. The slope turns flat at the horizon. “We’re here.”

Nearly falling to your knees at the sight of the long awaited arrival point, you drop to a nearby bench and lay flat on the stiff wood.

“How long till I need to look presentable? Because if it’s anything under thirty minutes, I’m tapping out.” You declare.

“I can give you five minutes, take it or leave it.” He barely sits down as he speaks while already unzipping his camera bag. The thought of lifting your arms is excruciating, so you rest your tongue and bite back a whine.

By the time you do find it within yourself to swing your legs back over the bench, the sky is shifting to a smoky navy, urging you to hurry up as you dry your sweat. You’re cringing as you press powder on your unclean face, but power through the final touches as you stretch while standing up straight.

The first rays of sunlight are just coming through as Mingyu calibrates his lenses, trying to figure out the best shots in the limited time frame you have. You listen to him as he directs you where he wants you, contorting your face into something akin to faux serene. It’s near impossible when the frown has molded itself into your face after what you’ve put your body through today.

“Think happy thoughts.” Mingyu calls out from behind his camera.

“Oh, I’m thinking real happy thoughts. Like the ice cold shower I’m about to take when I get home. My clean bed that’s gonna be nice to me when I lay in it. The leftover pasta in the fridge. My moonpies.”

He has to bring his face away from the camera to throw his head back in a breathy laugh, smile as wide as it could go. It does things to you, but you ignore it.

The summit isn’t entirely empty, noting a few people leaning against the railings, rendering it mostly quiet. All the more jarring becomes Mingyu’s phone as it blares into the silence, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound.

He checks the caller ID only to silence it and slip it back into his pocket.

You don’t get to ask who it was calling him so early in the morning, but get your answer when he immediately announces he’s done with his shots. The sun is higher up at this point, casting a more even orange glow across all the eye could see.

You suppose he’s in a hurry to get home, seeing as he has someone waiting on him. “Should we leave then?”

He swings the camera strap around his neck, forearms on the railing as he admires the view. “Give it a couple more minutes, I need to mentally prepare myself for the next hour.”

It’s hard for you to deny that, so you let yourself place your head into your crossed arms over the railing, staring into the glow. It’s silent for a while as the rays hit your face, warming you more than you’d like. You don’t make any effort to move though, deciding to appreciate the view while it was here, doubting you’d ever make the trek up here again. Not willingly, at least.

There’s a camera shutter that goes off next to you and you find Mingyu fidgeting with his camera as he tries to begin packing it up. You would help, but you’ve found yourself refraining from touching anything when it comes to his actual camera setup, opting to watch as he disassembles his lenses and pushes buttons to power off.

By the time you're trudging down the path you’d come up from, it’s bright and sunny, rendering it warmer than before. Going down, however, is proving easier as you appreciate the reduced strain in your calves, letting the recent conversation take you to a smoother route.

“When d’you think your gonna be done editing?” You ask at some point, the thought occurring to you that you’d only seen a couple pictures that he’d taken so far, oweing to his disapproval showing you all the raws before editing.

“Kinda have to get them edited and annotated by the due date, so probably by the end of the month.”

“D’you think I could get the ones you edit?”

“Why? D’you wanna kickstart a portfolio?” he muses.

“I think it’s normal to ask for my pictures you took of me,” you grunt.

He laughs it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send them over.”

Mingyu doesn’t drop you off home this time, both of you slipping into your own cars at the base of the hiking trail, bidding your goodbyes. You’d gotten an earful from Nayeon for getting your car back from the garage so quickly, and while sitting in a car with him wasn’t so bad anymore, you choose to retain that distance regardless. This was work, You’re doing this because you have to, and the stupid extra credit that roped you into this in the first place.

Alas, as you start your engine, eyes cast towards Mingyu’s number plate right up front, you can’t help but feel…sad… remembering this was your last shoot. As emotionally vexing the experience was, you had grown to look forward to his discreet location pins and outfit plans, growing more comfortable with him by the meeting.

It almost felt like you and Mingyu were friends.

Your brother’s graduation was an ordeal to say the least. Your parents flying in was a plus, getting to see them at least once for the summer, even if it was just for the day.

The night is wrapped up fairly quickly, a big dinner with yours and Mingyu’s family to congratulate the freed graduates from their academic shackles. It dials back when Mingyu announces he’s gonna take a summer course for now to keep himself busy, wanting to wait a little before job hunting. Seokmin seems to express the same, wanting some time off for himself before entering the corporate world.

It’s when you get home and your brother is sending you all the pictures of today that you note one that stands out. It was of you and Mingyu, an inevitable one as your parents took turns to make sure everybody got solo shots with everyone.

You’d applaud the enthusiasm, but it was particularly unfortunate for you when the camera was thrust into your hands as Mingyu and Jia posed for nearly fifty pictures. You wouldn’t mind usually, but it just felt like a little too much in the moment.

Despite everything, you find yourself clicking on the Save button on the picture where you’re smiling a little too wide right next to him, for the sake of yourself.

Summer break rolls around with no more hiccups, if you’d count finals as anything other than strenuous. You were happy, with a new job to keep you company for the next three months as you lament not being able to go home.

Getting the job at the bookstore was easy, your shifts were reasonable and it didn’t pay half bad. You would’ve guessed they were desperate for a hire, but you appreciate the activity regardless. It’s not really hard work, you find out quickly. Manning the desk, shelving deposits and restocking supplies. Monotonous tasks yet ones that you find yourself slipping into quite easily.

After the last shoot at the mountain, it was basically radio silence from Mingyu. Not being able to catch him the rare chance he stopped by the house, both of you swamped with the end of semester throw up. You doubt he’d noticed, and you despair at the fact that you did, even if it was just a little.

“Oh, great, you’re here!” The owner greets you as you walk into the store, all smiles. She was a sweet lady, nicer than any other boss you’d ever had. “Was just waiting for you so I could leave, my daughter has a play she’s putting on today!”

“Oh, sorry to keep you!” You rush to set your bag down as she picks up her own things, coming around from the table to take her leave. “Hope the recital goes well, tell her I said good luck.”

“Will do.” She smiles before adding, “Oh and, somebody called an hour ago asking about our book bundles, he said he’d come in to check but he hasn’t yet. Thought I’d let you know in case he asks about the phone call.”

“Got it,” you confirm, waving as she walks out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Breathing out a sigh, you find yourself relatively free this afternoon, a slow weekday as you pick your current read out of your bag to get comfortable for the long shift. You’re nearly through the halfway point when you hear the first jingle of the day, the bells attached to the door making their familiar chime

“Good afternoon!” You look up to greet the customer, dog earring your book before standing up from your seat.

The person who’d walked in wasn’t just any customer, you soon realise as you recognise the familiar shag of hair. Mingyu was here.

“Oh.” You can’t help but let it out when you register him, his own eyebrows shooting up at the sight of you behind the counter. Your next greeting comes out a little dumbly. “Hi.”

“Hey. What’re you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he takes you in.

“Um,” you glance at your obvious name tag. “I work here.”

“Oh, right, Seok mentioned you started working at a bookstore.” He throws his head back at the memory. “Hey, was it you over the phone earlier today? Didn’t sound like it.”

“Oh no, that was my boss, my shift started like an hour ago.” You confirm.

“Ah, I see.”

The silence is awkward for about five seconds before you jump into action. “You asked about a bundle over the phone?”

“Right, um,” he pauses to fish his phone out his pocket, scrolling for something. “It’s Jia’s birthday coming up, and there’s this book series she’s been wanting. Here.”

You need to remind yourself to pat yourself on the back for not shaking as you received his phone, mind remaining in the moment. “Oh yeah, we have those. Let me grab ‘em for you.”

He follows you through the columns of shelves as you navigate to find what he was looking for, stopping in front of the shelves. “There’s three of these, I can put them in a sleeve for you. Probably put a bow on it too if you want.”

“Okay, perfect. Do you guys have LP’s too?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. Hold on, let me put these up front.”

You lead him to the back of the store. “The selection’s pretty small, the first shipment only came in like a month ago. I’m not sure if you’ll find what you want here.”

“She’s been talking about getting more LP’s after she got a new record player. Hasn’t mentioned anything she wants though,” he voices, thumbing through the selection.

“What does she listen to normally?” You ask before quickly adding, “So I can, maybe, help pick something she’d like.”

“Uh, older stuff? I should’ve snooped before coming, fuck.” He mumbles, thinking hard. “She barely plays it when I’m around but most of her LP’s are like Frank Sinatra and…Duran Duran was it?”

“Hm…” You hum as you flick through the dated section of the stockpile, “How’s this?’

He’s taking a look at the record you’ve handed him, scanning the tracklists on the back. “I’ll get this, I guess. I can always bring her around to get more that she likes.”

“D’you want a bow on this?” You ask, referring to the books you’re putting into the set sleeve, “You can pick your colour.”

He’s quick to pick the lilac ribbon, watching you as you tape it prettily on the box. You’re trying to curl the ribbon at the ends when he tries to make conversation.

“When does your shift end?”

If the man wasn’t quite literally buying a birthday present for his girlfriend (or if you had any memory of your own birthday), you’d think he was trying to hit on you. But he’s not. You know that.

“Ten-ish. Closing’s on me so I could technically leave an hour early and no one would know.” You snort.

“Everyday?” he asks incredulously.

“Minus weekends, the family takes care of that. They just need someone for afternoons and evenings on the weekdays. It’s not like I’m taking summer classes or anything, and it’s easy work.”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to find out you’ll most likely be available on the 27th of August, then.” He sing songs as he fishes his phone out to pay, a cheeky air in his expression.

You blink at him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. “Was I supposed to get that?”

He pushes his shoulders back, content expression on his face as he continues. “There’s a cultural art exhibition in two months, and I, have just found out I’ve been shortlisted for a spot.”

“A spot? Like to display your photos?!” You drop the card machine with a thud.

“Your photos. Prof liked the project so much she submitted some of ‘em as entries. It was super short notice, but they liked them, I guess.” His grin is wide, one that you find impossible to not reciprocate. “I just need you to sign a consent form and I’ll be all set to start prepping.”

“That’s insane, Mingyu, congratulations!” You exclaim, genuinely excited. “Are you gonna be using the same pictures?”

“Yup, I just need to fix the editing with my prof before they go up. You’re the first to find out, I just got out of the meeting.”

There’s a mix of hesitation before you utter your next proposal, a split second of bewilderment at what you were about to suggest. “Come over tonight, we can celebrate with Seok. Bring Jia along too, we can celebrate an early birthday.”

“I’ll see, she might be taking a bus home tonight for the weekend, might have to bother you by myself.”

The ache in your cheeks didn’t stop until well after Mingyu had left with his cargo, the elated feeling remaining for even longer after the fact. There was a point where it took you convincing to rid yourself of another intrusive, uneasy feeling, like you were taking a step back by being happy at his announcement.

It was, however, safe to call Mingyu a friend. Safe to be happy for him. Safe to have your heart swell at his achievement, having watched him work hard for it.

It was safe to feel.

This was horrible.

Truly.

You were trying to ignore it, the strange thumping noises coming from under your car, like it would go away if you pretended to not hear. There was a sliver of hope for you, barely five minutes away from home that you’d make it before your tire decided it had enough of trying to grab your attention.

But then it started screeching, and you had to stop before you caused a road fire.

“Tire? Didn’t you get them changed like last month?” Seokmin asks over the phone.

“Didn’t know new tires were immune to industrial blades, too. Are you gonna tell me I got ripped off?”

“Mingyu has a scissor jack, I’ll tell him to come to you.”

“Wait! You have a scissor jack, too! Why can’t you come?” You sputter at the sound, glancing at the 21:42 on the dial.

“He has my scissor jack, he’ll change it for you.” He grits back. “Besides, I’m not letting this face pack go to waste I just put it on.”

“Seok!”

“Stay in the car, lock the doors till he gets there.” He grounds.

“Seokmin!”

Beep.

The bastard hung up.

“Ugh!” you break from a tightened jaw, slamming the car door shut with passion as you huff into your seat, waiting for Mingyu.

Was Mingyu busy at 10:30 PM on a weekday? He was, actually.

He’d scrambled to finish up the last of his meeting with his professor, wrapped up in planning for the exhibition despite the two month time frame he’d been given. Exhibitions were a lot of paperwork, as he was finding out as he sweet talks Jia over the phone, promising to be with her within the next five minutes. Well, ten maybe, he has to grab butter from the store.

She sits on the kitchen counter as Mingyu makes her favourite. A strenuous task, but he’s willing to go through the double frying to make up for the time he’s lost. It’s not until he’s doing the post dinner dishes while Jia’s picking a movie in the living room that he’s met with another dilemma to handle.

He’s deflating as he stands, phone to ear as he listens to Seokmin about your situation. Glancing at the near 10:30 PM hand on the clock, he finds it difficult to refuse, especially when he’s told you’re alone and stranded on a highway. He thinks to Jia in the living room as he tells Seokmin he’s leaving the house to get to you.

He’d only be gone for barely 20 minutes. He’s changed plenty of tires, this should be quick and easy.

Slipping into the living room is easy, wrapping his arms around Jia from behind is even easier. It’s when he has to open his mouth that he begins to falter. Twenty minutes, he reminds himself.

“I have two I’ve heard are really good, you can pick which one we watch first,” she voices as she fluffs the pillows on the couch, ready to tuck in for the rest of the night.

“Babe?”

She spins around in his arms, coming up to fluff his flat hair too. “Hm?”

“Seok just called…”

Her face falls as he talks despite his best attempts to assure her he won’t be long.

“Twenty minutes?” she parrots, wanting his word.

“Fifteen.”

Whether Mingyu would keep his word is something he’d find out, but you had kept your word to Seokmin, staying in the car, doors locked till you saw Mingyu’s car pull up behind you in the rearview. The wretched scissor jack that’s caused all of this sits in his own boot as he yanks it out to bring it over to your car, where you stand arms crossed, face dejected.

“Were you waiting long?” He asks as he immediately crouches to fit the jack where he wants it.

“No, not really,” you reply. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here, if only Seok remembered to take the stupid scissor jack–”

“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything.” Lies. But you already sounded apologetic and he didn’t wanna hear you apologize any further.

“No, it’s not okay. The idiot’s relaxing with a stupid face mask on while you have to come out here and change a fucking tire, God, you have class tomorrow too, don’t you?”

“Not until the afternoon, I’m in the clear.” He springs up from his crouched position, pulling the jack with him. “Open the boot.”

Placing the scissor jack in your boot, he continues, a little breathless. “There, I’ll tell Seokmin I left it in your car. Or, you could do that.”

“Thanks, Mingyu. Really.”

He does nothing but flash a smile, doing his best to convince you you weren’t an inconvenience before having to see your apologetic face again. “Alright, I wanna see you drive off before I leave, go on.”

By the time Mingyu’s slamming the door of the house shut, it’s eighteen minutes on the dot. Jia doesn’t say much, excited to have him back in her arms.

“Wait!” he suddenly yelps, once he’s tucked in with her.

“What now?” she groans.

Mingyu’s bounding back to his bedroom, emerging a few moments later with a dark paper bag. He goes back to sit next to her on the couch, sliding the bag and its contents towards her.

“Here. We’re not gonna be together for your birthday, might as well give you your present the night before you leave.” His eyes are glinting, hopeful.

Jia expresses her thank you’s commenting on the ribbon and his LP choice, grinning widely.

Your name comes tumbling out of Mingyu’s mouth before he can stop himself. “She helped me pick it out!”

“You…took her with you?” She asks after a moment.

“She worked at the store! I didn’t know till I went there either.” Mingyu’s voice grows increasingly enthusiastic, seemingly unaware that his girlfriend was growing slightly irritated. “I’ll take you there when you get back, the selection’s small but she’ll probably help you pick out something you’d like. I only had to give her like two names before she figured it out.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she comments, tight smile on her lips as she collects the book sleeve and the LP, placing them back into the bag and leaving them on the floor next to her.

Mingyu is blissfully unaware of the fuel he’s added to growing embers, munching away on his popcorn, eyes trained on the TV and its stimulating colours.

“I was talking to Jihyo the other day, super random but it came up while we were talking about you,” Jia starts experimentally.

“Huh?” He has her attention. And when she mentions your name, the part of him that’s always wondered when she’d bring it up comes out of dormancy.

“She said she…I don’t know, she said she liked you at some point, Like a lot, and for a while.” Jia sounds unsure, like she didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring you up.

Mingyu sighs as he rears himself for the inevitable conversation. “It’s—well, it was—just puppy love. I was around all the time and I guess she latched, I don’t know.”

Jia pauses, eyes remanging trained on the movie. “Does it make you uncomfy? That she liked you? Maybe she still does.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m around Seok which means I’m sometimes around her by default. Can’t help it. I mean, the photography thing kinda just happened but, I don’t really care. And she seems over it.”

Mingyu is rambling. He can feel it. Which is why he tries to end the conversation right there, tone nonchalant as he hopes the topic breezes past.

It doesn’t.

“You seemed pretty adamant in leaving, though.”

“Huh?”

“When she called just now.”

“Seok called, I had his scissor jack!”

“Why couldn’t he have grabbed it for you and helped his sister himself? He has a car too.” Jia’s paused the movie at this point, moving away from his arm she was leaning on, shifting to look at him fully.

“It would’ve taken him forever, she was alone in the middle of a highway at nearly eleven, you wanted me to leave her there?” Mingyu finds the conversation ridiculous, and it shows in the irritation that rises in his own voice.

“Mingyu, you can’t be upset with me right now,” she breathes out exasperated.

“I’m not? I get that you’re upset, I haven’t been around as much but you also know what this exhibition means to me. I need to put everything I have into this and it’s only for a couple months–”

“Mingyu, it’s not just the exhibition!”

“Jia, I can’t know if you don’t tell me what’s really bothering you, talk to me.” Mingyu’s begging at this point, wondering how it’s come to this in the first place.

“You can’t expect me to be okay with you going around wherever, whenever, when I know what kind of lifestyle you’ve come out of not even six months ago!”

Mingyu had come a long way from his galvanizing tendencies, doing absolutely everything he could to convince Jia he was serious about her. Unfortunately, this was not the first time his past had been brought up; in an argument or in a light hearted setting, and he wasn’t particularly fond of it.

“Are we in six months ago? Are you saying I’ve done nothing substantial for you to think I’m still fucking around? Either give me an instance or figure out what the real issue is!”

There’s a plaster of suffocation in the room, neither soul speaking a word. Until Jia finally speaks. “I wanna go home.”

It didn’t matter to Mingyu if she was expecting him to grovel, to ask her to stay and talk about this further. It was clear she wasn’t about to talk about anything pertinent at all, and definitely not tonight. He was tired, and frankly wanted to be alone right now.

“Fine.”

Silence penetrates all of his air for the entire car ride up until he’s entering his apartment for the third time that day. Not bothering to clean up the living room, he thinks he does himself a service so as to not be reminded of the past couple hours. He’s casting the place in complete darkness before moving to his room. Might as well get some work done.

There’s a conscious effort to not start slamming things, he succeeds mostly, his graphic tablet receiving the short end of the stick. Turning on his monitor, he’s met with his ongoing project still brought up on the screen.

It’s a picture of you. One he took in a greenhouse off the outskirts of the city, something you complained about extensively as the heat ruined both your mood and your hair. You were smiling regardless; a wide, happy smile as you looked into the camera, petunia’s and dahlia’s framing an illusion around your figure.

Mingyu feels the tension in his muscles begin to relax, his breathing evening out after what felt like hours. He becomes almost excited to pick up his stylus and work on the photo, the set up allowing him to dive right in. There was barely any work left, moving on as he finishes the photo and saves it.

It isn’t until he happens to click on the the last folder, the one where you both caught the sunrise after a strenuous hike. He can’t help but break into a hint of a smile at the memory of your broken figure at the pathway, cursing him for bringing you here so early in the morning. The pictures had come out good, especially when Mingyu opens a particular photo at the bottom of the folder, an extra from his initial round of editing for his actual project.

It’s of you (of course) with your chin tucked into your arms as you gaze at the scene from up above, beyond the railing. The sun is up higher at that point, but the cast remains as the top half of your face that wasn’t tucked in your arms is lit in an orange glow, eyes glistening like stars during the day, wide and beautiful.

Mingyu remembers the shot. It was an accident.

In an attempt to fiddle with the settings to turn off the camera, he ended up snapping a picture instead. The distinct click was noticed, never bothering to check what came out of it when he stuffed his camera back into his bag, nor when he sifted through his SD card.

It was like he was seeing the picture in a new light, and the potential it had to become something worth ogling at. He wonders what had come over him when he had placed the photo as a secondary option without another thought, lamenting at what could’ve been his actual final piece.

He stares and stares, attempting to draw maps of color rendering in his mind, yet all that comes up is his eyes zeroing in on your own. How they glisten. How they sparkle.

Part 2

#mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu smut #mingyu fic #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #svt #svt fluff #svt angst #svt smut

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neet-elite · 18 days

Note

hi, could you write something about sam and sebastian hanging out with a shy naive reader who casually mentions that she's never even kissed anyone, let alone have sex before and they offer to help her out but instead take advantage of her until she's a crying, overstimulated mess? -🌸 (if this emoji is claimed i can change it)

Dummy — (SDV) Sam + Sebastian

Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader / Sam Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 12,688 Warnings: virgin reader, threesome, dubcon, victim blaming, manipulation, lots of kissing, saliva, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play/sucking, praise, overstimulation, creampie, just the tip, tongue sucking, cervix fucking Synopsis: Him, a threat? No, never, you sweet thing… He’s about to reassure you of just how docile he really is with sugary lies and faux platitudes. But your meek tone effectively shuts him up, and he’d be a fool not to watch you dig your hole even deeper.

“It’s— Um, it’s not like it’s a big deal or anything… Right?”

A/N: I took way too long to complete this I'm so sorry... I hope it was worth the wait :D ! ty for the good idea <3

“What do you mean you’ve…”

“Never… Kissed anyone before?”

Doubt drips their words, emphasis pushed onto the offending action of kissing — you’re lying, aren’t you? Because to Sebastian, one of your dearest and closest friends , he can’t imagine a pretty girl like you still yet keeping her kissing virginity for God sake, let alone any kind of virginity! He’s always imagined you must have sneaked off with Alex one late saloon night, and he’s hypothesised with Sam before that maybe you had fooled around with Abigail during a sleepover, or— well, something … Anyone, really. And yet here you were, anxious fingers twiddling tight into sheets while you try to avoid their scepticism laced gaze. A staring contest ensues. Not one formally introduced, but one borne out of disbelief, and in your case: embarrassment. Where Sam begins the questioning, it’s only natural for Sebastian to follow; seeing as how in tune they are with each other. Two twisted peas in a pod, you really shouldn’t have told them that.

Which is why the moment their eyes meet they instinctively understand what must follow your little revelation. Your best kept secret, surely held close to your shy little bunny heart out of fear of judgement, or worse, prey . It’s only natural for them to be curious, right? It’s a big scary world out there, you should be thankful that you only have to face two of them tonight, little prey.

Because that’s what you are at the end of the day, or at least it is when you’re snuggled up securely under Sebastian’s bed sheets. Tugging on the fabric as if doing so would somehow hide your bashful expression from your best friends watchful eyes, but they know you better than that. Just like how they knew what actions you’d take before you took em during the long forgotten about Solarian Chronicles game earlier that night. Whether or not you choose to display your cute rosy cheeks to them was irrelevant; because they knew. They knew you’d regretted the decision to play a friendly round of truth or dare the minute you agreed, and they knew this was too good an opportunity to pass up on tonight. With both his parents out for the evening, and Maru attending an extended trip with the doc out of town… It was a no brainer for Sebastian to have his two best friends stay over for a few nights.

Which is to say… Sam was in on it the whole time, you know? Trapping you in the metaphorical dungeon that is Sebastian’s basement room, cornering you under the guise of some friendly games late at night—which you should know by now is a bad idea, but when he thinks about it, Sebastian decides your naivety is but one of your many charms—however, neither one of them could have ever imagined you’d offer yourself up to them like this on a silver platter. He can tell Sam is just as surprised and eager about your spilled secret as he is given the soft glint in his friends eye, the way Sam’s gaze matches his own half lidded nature as you bury deeper under the sheets in a pitiful attempt to escape some unforeseen instinctual threat.

Him, a threat? No, never , you sweet thing… He’s about to reassure you of just how docile he really is with sugary lies and faux platitudes. But your meek tone effectively shuts him up, and he’d be a fool not to watch you dig your hole even deeper.

“It’s— Um, it’s not like it’s a big deal or anything… Right?”

Oh, on the contrary, sweet girl. Unbeknownst to you, both Sam and Sebastian are intricately connected, thinking the exact same disgusting thought the moment you spilled your prized secret. If you haven’t kissed anyone, then… You must be a virgin too, right ? Like, with sex . Cause, despite their previous late night discussions surrounding you, there’s no way you’d have fucked by now given how bashful you are at admitting your untouched lips, and when Sebastian takes a quick glance Sam’s way he recognised the awful smirk his friend is now wearing.

He unknowingly adopts it too.

Because in the midst of your sweet little sniffs and reddened cheeks, they’ve already came to an agreement. An unspoken one, communicated through flickers of vision and a previous shared longing to have you where you sit right now. You’ve got no idea just how long they’ve wanted you like this, scared and alone, easy to dominate in the dark of the basement. It sounds bad when he puts it like that, but really what he means is: unable to refuse. To confuse and mislead you right into their arms, if that’s what it takes. Which is what it’s come to, seeing as after all this time you’re still a silly little virgin. Poor girl , they’ll fix you tonight.

It’s Sebastian who speaks up first, knowing better than anyone that Sam has a far too easily excitable attitude to approach the tense situation with any tact. Which is what you need before the main event, surely. See, he’s not evil , just a little selfish. He’ll provide you with the comfort you’re obviously seeking, if it means he can get in your pants later tonight.

“No, no,” He coos, standing from his computer chair to stalk over to his bed, gently dropping his weight on the edge of it to sit beside you, remaining cautious not to scare you off with anything other than absolute acceptance. Because deep down he’s thankful , and he’d like to show you just how much. “It’s not a big deal, promise .” A smile follows, meaning well to ease your apparent apprehensions, but he’s not so sure he can hide his deplorable excitement from you well enough, an ache in his cheeks present when he thinks about how hard this must be for you to admit. Which is silly, really, but he can understand why you must be so ashamed when in his company; even if only because he knows himself too well. To combat his worries, he places a friendly open palm where he thinks your hidden thigh must be, and he’s happy to have found it when you lower the bed sheets just a little , enough to give both men purchase into you. His eyes flit to Sam once more, a small narrow to them as a warning. Patience . Do not frighten the poor bunny, okay?

A few rubs up and down and you’re already opening up to them, so easy are you in your innocence. He continues the conversation when it naturally lulls, noticing that you’re clearly shivering with anxiety in the face of their acceptance, and he’s eager to keep whittling down your fight or flight response until you feel safe again; that’s when they can pounce. And really, it’s your own fucking fault for getting yourself into this position, yeah? What girl in their right mind would think anything other than indulgence when her two best friends— who just so happen to be horny men —invite her to a private sleepover? Dummy , you must be wanting this, right? You’re just playing coy, aren’t you? “If anything, it’s kinda cute,” he squeezes at your thigh to reassure, inwardly laughing to himself when you continue to clam up, pretending to be shy when he’s got you all figured out.

Or, the alternative is fine with him too. Maybe you really aren’t aware of your position tonight, left completely blind to the obvious trap orchestrated by himself and Sam. If that were true, then you deserve a sickening reality check anyway. See, either way he holds no guilt. Either you wanted this, or you deserve this. Which makes things easier for him, convincing himself that there’s no harm in pushing if the result is the same.

“Ain’t that right, Sam?”

“Sure is.” Sam grins back at him, wide and unassuming, a friendly face to coax you out of your self imposed shell. It’s Sam’s biggest strength, Sebastian thinks. His childhood friend has always resembled the sun in that way, all smiles and platitudes; exactly what you need tonight. “Been savin’ yourself, or…?”

Fuck , good question. Too wrapped up in his own selfish desires, it hadn’t even occurred to Sebastian that you might be doing just that, awaiting some sort of faux right time before giving yourself away to someone special; but aren’t they special enough for you? Both him and Sam, your bestest of friends, crowding around you so ardently in the relatively open basement room as Sam joins you on the bed, opposite Sebastian, aren’t they your special friends? It couldn’t hurt too much to give them just a taste, right? Just a little, it’s what they’re owed for protecting you for so long. If not them, then who? A bubble of jealousy prompting him into squeezing your thigh once more, the possessiveness in it easily misconstrued as guarding. Would that he could remain in his indulgent dream of corrupting his sweet and innocent little friend, you snap him out of his dirty mind with a docile little head shake, the squeak of your voice drawing him back to reality as you deny them the right of depravity for now.

“N-No, no… Nothing like that… It’s just— Uh, I guess it just never happened? I uh… I dunno why…”

God, the shake in your voice goes right down to Sebastian’s cock, and he has to fight the urge to pet at it right in front of you like this. How downright pitiful you sound when elaborating, unsure and cautious, fearful of their judgement even if they’d do no such thing— No, because you’re being such a good girl for them already, you deserve approval in return for your honesty.

“S’all right, I was a late bloomer too, y’know.” Sam snickers, easing what Sebastian assumes is the obvious sexual tension as if it were nothing, watching as Sam leans back against the bed wall as if his cock wasn’t also twitching now that they were so close to you. Closer than ever before, so close that they can fucking smell the desperation coming off of ya. “Think Seb was too, werent’cha?”

It takes Sebastian a moment to register the words sent his way, far too busy wetting his lips to the thought of making you cry to pay attention to the conversation. Cause he could, y’know? He could have made fun of you for still being an untouched virgin, bully you into submission until you’re begging for the sweet release of his fat cock, until you see no other choice than to accept his cruel treatment as forgiveness. But he refrains, his thumb instead smoothing over your blanket covered thighs as the sheets lower further still from your frame, a consistent reminder that his kind treatment is bearing fruit. “Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck with his free hand, staring off into space only to distract himself from the cute pout of your lips, because if he looks for another fucking second he’s liable to jump you right there and then, biting at his own lips to calm his racing heart in the face of your devout innocence. God he wants to ruin you , corrupt your naive view of the world with his pervert cock and take advantage of your clueless attitude until all you know is him and Sam. It’s what they’re due.

He’s lying, of course. Him and Sam had messed around when they were much younger, exploring their sexual appetites together as a regular occurrence ever since. Fuck, even Abi had joined in every now and then, so he’s surprised to see you so easily accept their lie as truth. He’d assumed Abi had maybe told you about their shared experiences, maybe even invited you on occasions despite you never showing up— but the dumb look you adopt tells him otherwise. Upon hearing Sam’s initial misleading statement, he instinctively knew to lean into it. Butter you up or something, he doesn’t really know. It’s getting difficult for him to reason with himself when your tits are just begging for his lips around them, the barely there tank top you’d decided to wear tonight given his reminder that his room runs hot is just calling to him , leaving him struggling to think straight.

“So uh… Don’t even worry ‘bout it, okay?” He smiles again, cheeks burning from the constant reassurance he’s trying to offer you. It’s the best he can come up with when all his mind can focus on is the swell of your tits and how bad he wants to taste them for the first time in your life.

“Have you done anything ?” Sam is quick to follow up, and Sebastian is happy to have the spotlight off of him for a moment, allowing him to eye up the space between your tits and your shirt, doing his best to remain undetected as he takes a peek down. It’s a bad idea, he knows it is the moment he does it, eyes instinctively rolling to the back of his head with a hushed gasp escaping his open lips. Tight fucking body, fuck — your fault, remember?

Silence befalls the room and he holds his breath, afraid that if he doesn’t then a moan will slip out from how eager he is to have you— been waiting for this exact moment for as long as he can remember. Sam too, honestly; a shared crush that allowed them to work together, a disgusting alliance built purely on a need to claim you as their own. Their best friend. Their innocent little bunny who needs to be bred, yeah? And when he lifts his gaze from your tits to your face for a brief moment, all he can see is how hard you look down, staring the same spot he was with a blush adorning your cheeks. Cute . So fucking pretty that he wants to eat you right up. Quickly gazing at Sam yields the same result, a cocky smirk on his friends face before a fists raises to chew on.

Yeah , Sebastian thinks. Me too.

“Uh… I, well—”

They already have their answer, but it’s so fun making you get all shy like this; the payoff assumedly going to be even sweeter when they eventually coax you out of this timid behaviour. “It’s okay, you know you can always be honest with us, sweetheart.” Sam pouts, finger under your chin to tilt your face up at the sun, and Sebastian doesn’t miss the audible gasp the bold move knocks out of you.

“No. I haven’t, um… Y’know…”

Oh, this is fun.

“Haven’t what?” Sebastian grabs your attention now, repeating Sam’s action but instead directing your vision to him , a soft angel smile on his lips to try and entice you further into him, to force you into saying those dreaded words that you’ve surely spent a lifetime avoiding; but if only you’d admit them, then he’ll reward you nicely. Been so good so far, don’t give up on him now.

“Haven’t… I haven’t uh, had… Sex… Or, really much of anything…” You trail off into soft embarrassed laughter, barely audible over the thump of his own heart, or the sudden shuffle of sheets under Sam’s weight. He’d scold Sam if doing so didn’t immediately give away his own position, and so instead he follows suit. If ya can’t beat em, then join em. Inching closer towards you so that you’re sandwiched between their shoulders, the brush of his hand up and down your thigh surely able to be passed off as a friendly action only, right? And not the lewd action of temptation, a lure to reel you in.

“That’s okay.” He says, more of a whisper than anything, which was an accident at best. Simply stunned by the gift you’ve given them tonight, cock twitching in his pants to be buried inside of you already— show you what you’re missing out on, or maybe, to shamelessly show himself what he could have been fucking years ago. But the way his hushed words catch your attention urges him to continue the soft tone, if only because it distracts you from how horny he is— and nothing has really even happened yet. Embarrassing, but understandable. Any man would surely agree; he’s stuck a gold mine with you tonight, and you know no better than if he were to play the role of the virgin with how hard he’s already gotten at your confessions. “In fact… I’d argue it’s pretty cute.” He repeats himself, unable to conjure up anything more worthwhile saying when he’s focusing so hard on not sticking his dick in you already.

“For sure. Super cute, even.” Sam adds, though his voice is much more boisterous and causes you to shiver against Sebastian, which he happily accepts with an arm wrapped securely around your shoulder.

“Mhm… But, aren’t you at least curious ?” He asks nonchalantly, “About how it feels?”

He can feel you tremble some more, leaning further into him in apprehension. Your hearts probably racing by now, right? Two men leaning against you in a hidden basement up in the mountains. Regardless of the familiarity, even innocent lil you can recognise what that means, surely. Fuck , no one but them would hear you during the night, the thought alone causing his cock to leak some more in his underwear. The implication is right there , sweetheart; and yet he waits patiently for your virgin mind to play catch up to it.

“I mean, a little?” You answer honestly, questioning lilt at the end of your confession as if seeking their approval.

“It’s only natural, after all.” Sam interjects, hand lifted to play with the loose strands of your hair absentmindedly; except it’s not. Not really. In fact, it’s intentional , and Sebastian knows it to be so given the half-lidded nature of Sam’s gaze on your lips. Which, of course, you’ve got no way of witnessing. Your eyes glues to the pattern of Sebastian’s sheets, staring as if they were the most interesting thing in the room right now, instead of the correct answer being that of your admission of want . “We could help, if you wanted.”

Sebastian knows that Sam is only suggesting because this would be a whole lot easier if they made you think that tonight was your idea , rather than a best laid plan of their own. “Yeah, s’not fair that you’ve been left out, right?” He adds on himself, quick and sharp, disallowing you room to think to better their chances of getting lucky tonight. Squeezing your shoulder softly to hopefully coax you out of your understandable anxiety and instead onto your back where you belong.

“Ah, wait!” Your voice is louder than it’s been tonight, panic stricken in the face of their offer. Which Sebastian understands, but still he chews on his bottom lips before he gives into his need to pin you down. Shut you up . “It’s— Wouldn’t that be weird , right?” You laugh, and the sound would be sweet if not for the fact that it was standing in the way of both Sebastian and Sam getting what they so desperately wanted. “I mean— we’re friends . Friends don’t—”

“What, kiss?” Sam scoffs, but his expression remains friendly. Needs to, really. Because despite the assumed shared frustration between them, Sebastian glares at him to keep on your good side. Of course they could take you without much issue, fight back against your retaliations by working together to get you naked, manoeuvring you into whatever position they so please simply because they want to . But, it’s easier this way, no? A little more upfront effort, but the end will be much sweeter. “I mean fuck , me and Seb do it all the time!”

It’s not a lie, but seeing your expression turn to one of shock makes him think that you think it’s a lie, so Sebastian takes the opportunity to swiftly settle the score.

“S’true. Friends can kiss, promise it’s not weird.”

“Really?” You immediately interrogate, head tilted up to properly look at him, and God you’re so cute like this , disbelief lacing your tone even after his confirmation. Are you thinking about them kissing right now? Imagination running wild with what your two best friends must have been up to all this time together? Jealous that you weren’t included?

“Really,” Sebastian’s hand leaves your shoulder to instead gently cup the back of your neck, rubbing up and down your nape in an effort to convince you of his words. “Do you wanna try?” he questions only as a formality. He’d going to kiss you tonight whether you want to or not, but it’s nice to be nice sometimes, y’know?

There’s a pause before you answer, considering your options as they creep closer together. Not enough that you’d notice given how full your empty lil mind is, but the nearer Sebastian gets to you, the more he notices. Your faint scent, how warm your body feels; must be from embarrassment, or perhaps excitement at the prospect of his lips on yours? Fuck , he’s certainly excited himself. Cock leaking beads for you as you make him wait, the hand he has on your neck ever so slightly pinching to get your attention back on him.

“What d’ya say?” he questions when you look up at him, and he has half a mind to immediately lock lips with you to quell his trembling cock, twitching eagerly from how downright dumb you look with those pouty lips and furrowed brows. Too cute — far too cute to be as innocent as you claim, but the quiver in your voice tells him otherwise.

“Um… Only if that’s okay… With both of you, I mean. But just a kiss, okay?”

Got you.

Stupid little mouse, rolling over to show your tummy so easily , even if you can clearly see his salivating open maw. It’s like you want to get eaten alive, not that he’s opposed to the idea. A kiss is all it’s gonna take for them to swallow you whole. After all, you’re just a dumb little mouse . You won’t know any better. But he has experience. He knows how to look after you the way you deserve, in tandem with Sam.

Of which, his friend takes the giddy lead with an excitable “So, who do you want to go first?”

A scolding rests on the tip of Sebastian's tongue, annoyance worming to his stomach in fear of Sam’s nature working against their plans, but when you timidly tug on the sleeve of his hoodie and he sees for the very first time that night genuine worry (or perhaps fear, they’re cousins), he can’t help but extend you a helping hand. And, if he’s honest, he’d really like to go first , acting the saviour to protect you from Sam’s hungry teeth out of selfish desire.

Your bottom lip wobbles before him and he tuts down at you quietly, lovingly. Only Sam can understand the triumph in the click, forcing Sebastian to suppress a laugh at the scowl his friend now wears. He inhales deeply before letting you in on a little secret at your indecision.

“You’re so pretty,” He pauses, waiting to see your bashful cheeks, all red hot thanks to his compliment. Good , you look so cute when awaiting his words. “But you’re so stupid .”

And oh the look you give him was worth the pause. Mouth open for him to instinctively stick his fingers into, your pretty eyes wide at his intrusion for him to admire. The first thing he notices is how your tongue is so soft , unexplored for him to take advantage of with his sweat soaked fingers. So stupid is right , why would you ever be so surprised at this turn of events? He can only imagine what it’d feel like to have your virgin tongue wrapped around his fat cock, struggling to take his face fucking while your throat closes up due to his rough treatment. Has his cock all hard and needy at just the thought, God he wants to , wants to shove his pervert cock right against your cheeks, smear dirty precum all over your lips like gloss, see how well you cry for him— but a little whimper you gag around his fingers convinces him otherwise. Fuck —

“Sorry—” He laughs, deep and genuine, removing his fingers from your open mouth only to hear you sputter for air. “Didn’t mean to scare ya, promise. It’s just— Ah , you looked too cute, y’know? Couldn’t help myself.” He admits honestly, but the way in which he does so comes across as pandering , another attempt to allude to the fact that this was all your idea, remember? If only you weren’t so pretty.

Alas, with his fingers removed and drying nicely in the cool air of his basement, he cups your cheeks without warning and moves closer, hovering his lips above your own. Teasing his taste, practically smirking against your lips when you openly gasp out for him at the sudden turn of events. A deep inhale later and he recognises familiarity. An insidious kind, burrowing deep to his heart as he looms. “Ready?” he whispers against you, still tenderly touching your cheeks as he dives in before you have a chance to answer. Payback for when you stole his opportunity to talk earlier, he muses to himself. Immediately poking his tongue out, slipping into your wanting mouth just like how your body is asking him to do— a groan escapes him and down your throat. The delicate touch on your cheek grows flat, before quickly moving to the back of your neck to grip . A tether to keep himself controlled as he drips saliva onto your tongue, mindful of the fact that you’ve got no idea what you’re doing, but that’s okay. It’s hot enough just to steal your first kiss from you, you can get better with time. Because this won’t be the last time you taste him, even if you don’t know it yet.

He presses closer against you, pulling away only to slowly push his lips back against yours. A soft smack filling his ears with how wet his tongue has gotten your lips to become. It’s an instinct for his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to himself as he makes out with you. So agonisingly slow that it even teases him, causing his gasps for air to become strained, his muscles to tense in their obsessive grip of your body. As if claiming mine , despite Sam watching the whole ordeal and waiting for his turn like a good dog. He feels you sink into him, reciprocating the kiss with a little more ease now that he’s taught you the proper motions, smiling to himself when you experiment by dragging your tongue against his own; and moaning with you when you let a whimper slip.

The desperate sigh that follows from your kiss bruised lips is almost just as sweet as your whines, prompting him into a wide grin. Saliva stains shining in the dim light of his room as your eyes catch on to where you’ve just explored.

“You’re good at least.” He half lies, rubbing his thumb against your waist to keep you preoccupied while Sam gets into position behind you. Sebastian admires the string of saliva keeping you attached to him in the meantime

It takes you a moment to collect your breath before reply, and he can’t help but smile down at you with adoration at how cute you are when getting taken advantage of. So much so that you play right fucking into it, d ummy . “Really? I mean, are you sure—”

Before finishing your question, Sam has your chin tilted back for your body to follow, landing your back against his chest and ass between his legs. “C’mere, s’my turn.” Is all Sam says before placing his lips on your own too, a greedy growl escaping him at the shared saliva between friends.

Sebastian tilts his head at the way your eyes widen, palm automatically coming into contact with his too hard cock to pet at while you’re being kissed. It’s interesting, really, to see what you look like when enjoying yourself; when you’re being exploited for selfish gain. You’re so pretty when prone, and if he hadn’t just endured your inexperienced kissing then he’d for sure assume you were still lying about being a complete virgin, but the way you clumsily hold on to Sam’s wrist for stability while he far too eagerly kisses you is cute if nothing else. Just like you, skin flushed and eyes squeezed tightly shut, the way you try to keep up with Sam’s agility by way of arching your back— a pretty fucking sight by the way, are you sure you’re actually a virgin? The whiplash you must be experiencing causes his cock to drool under his rough palm, circling the leaking tip to the sight of Sam’s free hand clutching your hair, pushing your face against his own with fervour. “See, told ya.” Sebastian praises you, heart fluttering in his chest when you attempt to respond, but Sam’s tongue is too overpowering. Choking your words before they even have a chance to sound— fuck , that’s so hot. Your gasped mewls and furrowed brows; he can barely stand it. Wants to stick his dick in you already, clawing at the wet fabric of his tight jeans while Sam eats your face.

Maybe he’s a little jealous, especially when he catches a glimpse of your cute tummy laid bare for his eyes to feast on. An immediate suck of air and a roll of his eyes to the back of his skull, hips instinctively rolling against his perverted paw from the tiniest show of skin. God , he’s— no, they’ve got it so bad for you and your stupid virgin mind can’t even begin to comprehend it, can you? How the sight of Sam’s hands travelling up and down your untouched tummy to eventually make groping actions at your chest sets his tummy aflame, equal parts envious and horny, a shiver of pleasure rolling down his spine when you sputter away from Sam’s lips to anxiously ask: “ Wait! Just— aren’t we just kissing, I—”

Too slow , Sam had manoeuvred your face back to his own for more sloppy sounding kisses for Sebastian to jerk his cock to. Silly little girl , it was never just kissing . He remembers how you had asked for that to be the case, but; neither one of them had promised , did they?

While Sam is busy sucking your face, Sebastian decides to indulge a little more in himself. He’d have liked to have taken things slower than his counterpart, but it’s difficult to blame Sam for his excitement when you’re quite literally in his lap; Sebastian knows he’d be unable to control himself if the roles were reversed too. Are you kidding? A pretty little virgin just begging for corruption, unsullied body receptive to their every touch. There’s so much he wants to do to you, yknow. So much he can do to you now that you’re distracted again, unintentionally slutty moans hummed down his friends throat.

First, he tugs his jeans off. Leaves his boxers on for now, it’s more fun that way, right? He crawls closer to you after throwing his clothing to the ground below, tapping on your knees to watch them easily fall apart for him. “ Fuck—” he sighs, slotting himself between your legs. “So easy , you’re trembling.”

Maybe the mention of such startles you, but Sam seems determined to keep sucking on your tongue, strings of saliva caught between his lips and yours, you’ve got no room to do anything else but whine for more. And you’ll get it, fuck you’ll get it, they’re determined now that they’ve had a taste . Moving his hands to either side of you and Sam, making sure to rest the tip of his cock against your still clothed hole, but fuck it already feels good, doesn’t it? To just have it sit there, twitching and drooling all over your clothes as a reminder of what you do to him, of how easily domesticated you are from just one messy kiss. He’d like to have heard your reaction, but there’s pleasure enough to be had in feeling your hips reflexively shift against him, cunt so close, teasing his resolve without even knowing it. A natural born slut, you’re lucky it was your friends that discovered this side of you and not someone more sadistic… As if they weren’t being mean enough themselves, biting on your lip and squeezing at the fat of your thighs.

Having you writhe under him prompts his hips to start moving, gentle rocks back and forth to contrast Sam’s abrasive groping, though Sebastian isn’t complaining when your shirt gets ruthlessly removed and your pretty tits are spilling out from your bra. Makes his head all fuzzy just looking at em, hands finding home on your waist to keep you pinned against his friend while he bucks his tip against your hidden hole. Even this feels too good, doesn’t it? To have all the attention, two hard cocks pressing at both your holes. Bet Sam’s leaking all over himself by now too, dripping onto your ass from how your sensitive body encourages them to continue. See , he thinks, you are asking for it .

“Isn’t this more fun, huh?” He asks, a hint of knowing on his tongue. “Y’sure look like it’s more fun, God — Look at’chu—” He mutters, only because he’s too focused on rocking his cock against your covered slit to have you making more of those pretty sounds you’re echoing into Sam’s mouth, rather than keeping track of exactly what he’s saying. Spilling dirty words for you in abundance as Sam gives you a moments respite, just enough time to undress his lower half. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?” He taunts you from above, knows that you’re too breathless to reply with the drool coating your cheeks. Sam’s always been a messy kisser.

It’s as you’re catching your breath that Sebastian moves you into a different position, growing impatient with Sam when he struggles with his underwear, though thankfully your face is turned from Sam when his cock finally snaps against his tummy. A low thud almost catching your attention, if not for the way Sebastian’s body covers your view as he helps you lay down with your back on his bed. “C’mon, catch your breath, pretty.” He coos at you, all soft and loving despite his degenerate thoughts about how sweet you look when struggling. Practically eye fucking you as his face hovers above you, propping himself into half sitting up to watch the conflict of tonights situation flash across your face. Cute , he mumbles to himself, before his vision drops to your bra and he thinks hot .

While you’re busy trying to ground yourself, Sebastian takes to dancing his fingertips down your chest, ghosting over your tummy, until eventually reaching the band of your bottoms. He pings at them a few times, relishing in the wince you send him each time the fabric smacks against your soft skin. Until eventually, his fingers dig under your clothing to help leverage Sam into hauling them off. So badly does Sebastian want to take a peek, just a small glance down at your panties, selfish desire pooling in his cock as it twitches against your side. But he’s got time, he can take it slow; even if Sam refuses to do so himself.

“I— Wait, please . I need a second before—”

“Aha… Oops .” Sebastian mocks, pressing his fingers against your slit once he feels that Sam has dragged your underwear completely off. Only, he groans with his words too, pained at just how wet your little cunt has already gotten from some light foreplay. Just a little kissing and you’re soaked , you really must be a virgin, right? Oh you sweet thing , if you’re this wet already, then you’ve got no hope of surviving until the end of the night. The thought of which only turns Sebastian on some more, prompting him into matching the rooms state of undress as he lets his cock free with a heavy sigh, incidentally smearing precum all over your bare hips while the pads of his fingers explore your virgin cunt. So fucking hot, holy shit—

“ Relax , baby,” Sebastian isn’t sure if Sam had meant to sound so condescending, but he can’t deny how hot it is to see one of his best friends so dangerously out of control when face to face with your cunt. He takes a look at Sam upon hearing how strained his voice is, and the look of sheer desperation painted on his face is enough to convince Seb to start toying with your clit. Little circles, barely there if he’s being honest, but of course it’s enough to get your untouched body reeling . Wiggling and croaking, the feeling of your hand grasping on for dear life onto his shirt only serving to rile him up further, makes him buck his cock against your waist a little more intentional. He can’t stop himself even if he tried, snapping his vision back to you to watch you fall apart on his meagre touch.

If you’re this fun to toy with now, he can hardly wait till he’s got his cock in you. Fat beads of precum leaking all over you as Sam lowers to your cunt level, heart racing in his chest at the prospect of deflowering you in such a nasty way. You can’t even decline their advances, not when Sebastian continues flicking your clit, dragging his fingers down your slit to dip into your heated hole. A gasp escapes him upon coming into contact with your wetness, slick coating his fingers with a gush as he angles his hand downwards; allowing Sam enough room to nose against your puffy clit.

“Fu-uck ,” Sam whines, all broken and needy as he sniffs your slit. “Oh my God ,” He continues, Sebastian taking the opportunity of distraction to start pumping your little hole with a single finger while Sam drools over your cunt with slurred words. Can’t fight back when you’ve lost your voice to moans, can you? “Smell so good— Wanna lick it so bad, fuck , wanna taste you—”

“Go on then.” Sebastian encourages Sam, spreading your cunt open for ease of access, and he’s surprised to hear just how breathless his voice sounds when he’s got you whining into his chest, blushing cheeks buried against his shirt like earlier with his sheets. Can’t get enough of him, can you? Not that he’s doing any better, practically ready to bust just from curling a single finger inside of you, cursing quietly to himself when his flicks earn a full body shiver from you. You’re already so fucking tight, just barely able to take his single finger inside— the thought of having that tightness wrapped around his cock causes him to throw his head back.

And he knows Sam has started lapping at your cunt when you sob into him, soft and pretty cries crooned into bundled shirt. Fuuuuck , he needs you. Needs you so bad that his heart hurts to hear more, arm taut and muscles tight as he focuses on offering you precise flicks of the finger inside of you; gotta stretch you out properly to take his cock, yeah? And oh you’ll look so pretty when stuffed full, won’t you? He hopes you cry when he’s inside too, wrapping an arm under your back to secretly unclip your bra, taking a brief pause in fingering you only to throw it to the side. And when you’re fully exposed he keeps his arm under you, circling it back around to cradle you in his arms— and to be able to grope at your tits a little. He’s so mean , isn’t he? Leveraging your surely confused and vulnerable state against you, selfishly kneading and pinching at your pretty tits. Ah , he takes a quick look at them— or what he can see of them with your body twists to hide against him. It’s a mistake, of fucking course it is , given just how hard his cock already is— because the sight of them rising and falling harshly under his fingertips is almost too much to bare. Almost convinces him to shove Sam out of the way so that he can have you all to himself; that is until you arch towards him and he falls like moth to a lamp into your chest. Gently, mind you, lips latching on to your nipples with hunger . Dizzying desire clouding his judgement when he nips at them a little, growling delight against your tit as praise for taking his abuse so well. The unsure sounds you let out only spur him on to continue, cock tip slipping against your tummy with the amount of pre your coax out of him.

Slurps soon fill the air, mixing perfectly with the sweet squelch of his fingers diving in and out of your tight little cunt. It’s about time he introduces another, right? Otherwise you’ll be forced to take his cock unprepared, and though he intends to deflower you tonight, he’s not so mean as to make it hurt . Sneaking another finger in is easy with a loud suck of your nipples, he hopes to distract you from the stretch despite your telling whines. “ Shh, s’okay. ” He mumbles after popping off your tit for just a second, rubbing his nose against your head to grab your attention. “Doing so well… For a virgin, anyway.” He smiles when you meet his fond gaze.

Sam hums against your cunt and Sebastian matches the sound when he hears your gasp in return, keeping you attention with a nod towards Sam. “Look at ‘im.” He implores you, scissoring his fingers inside of you slowly , almost lazily so that you have more freedom to gawk at how eagerly Sam licks and sucks up and down your cunt. Hell , Sebastian can even feel his tongue run along his fingers at times too, assumedly trying to suck off all of your slick clean from your hole. Greedy , Sebastian thinks to himself. I want a taste too.

He moves with you, peering over to take a look at the mess between your legs, and involuntarily grinds his hips into you at the sight that greets him. How dirty he feels, fingers glistening with your slick, Sam’s face obscured between your folds— but his saliva still stains your thighs. “Shit—” he sighs, suddenly increasing the speed at which his fingers curl inside of you. An increasingly loud squish emanating from your hole with how slippery they’ve got you causes his head to hang low, more focused than ever to have you cum for the first time on his fingers; he’s selfish . Wants that taste of you too.

“ Ah—! No, wait—” you immediately fall back— always with the wait with you, haven’t they proven their worth to you yet? You should trust them to look after you by now, given that Sam’s tongue sucks those pretty high pitched moans out of you, and Sebastian’s fingers fuck silent gasps to crawl up your throat. “Feels— No, ah—! Feels weird!”

“Dummy.” Sebastian lets out a dry snicker, doubling his efforts of making you cum now that he knows you’re close. It’d be laughable knowing how clueless you really were; so much so that you don’t even know what’s happening to you right now, if not for the way he has to physically tense up his whole fucking body so as to not cum with you, excitement shivering down his spine at the prospect of granting you the pleasure of your first proper orgasm. See, isn’t he so nice? Sam too, the way he digs his nails into the fat of your thighs with an iron grip, keeping your cute cunt still for him to service— because that’s what they’re doing right now. They’re servicing you , offering up themselves to you for your own benefit. They’re not taking advantage of anything: you might be a virgin, but you’ve got the body of a slut, your approaching orgasm only serving as further proof of your promiscuity. “You’re close, just give in baby.” He both encourages and clues you in, picking up the pace some more; a brutal speed unbefitting a virgin like you, but the look of sheer enjoyment on your face is inspiration enough to continue. “ C’mon , give it to me, yeah?” his tone is leering , downright insidious with lust, spilling from his lips just like second nature. It’s what ruining filthy virgins like you does to him, apparently. “Jus’ wanna make you feel good, jus’ helping a friend out, remember?” Lies . But you’d believe anything coming from his dishonest lips wouldn’t you, especially when you’re on the cusp of something that feels so good , right? Both tongue and fingers coaxing your orgasm out, a few more seconds is all it takes for his eyes to narrow in on your angry expression, cunt quivering around his skilful fingers with plenty grip to leave him just itching to fuck you. And fuck— the sounds you make . High strung and erotic, more so than he’s ever heard you before. Instantly, he registers your moans as addictive. Wanna hear that again, wanna make you sound like that some more, keep gasping our names all pretty like that—

But he’s kind, remember? He wouldn’t be knuckle deep in your pretty little cunt if he wasn’t at least sort of generous, crooking his fingers against your warm insides gently, massaging your walls sympathetically to help you properly ride out your very first orgasm— how cute. How completely adorable it is to be finger fucking you through one of your first naughty experiences ever, and on his bed no less! A memory he’ll keep with him for as long as he lives, if only to bully you about it later down the line. And of course, he can’t forget about the help Sam has offered you, and he wants to make sure you don’t too.

“Look so pretty when cumming, angel.” He coos at you, faux sweet tone hummed against the top of your head as he scissors inside of you two more times before pulling out, not missing the way you involuntarily whine at the loss of fullness. Dirty girl , you’re a quick learner if nothing else. A woman after his own heart. And by that he means; fucking needy . “Say thank you , remember.”

Despite you dazed state, still in the midst of what must be a mind blowing experience, you find the strength to look up at him with a dopey smile that tugs on his heartstrings. “Thank— S-Sam , stop!”

“ Sorry—” Sam heaves, eventually pulling away from your creaming cunt with his tongue still lolled and a face full of shine. Sebastian thinks he’s pretty like that; almost as pretty as you are when you sigh before following orders. Good , he likes them submissive. And from your subservient attitude thus far tonight, he bets you’ll be a good fuck too— in spite of your virgin status. Not for long now if he has anything to do with it. And given how soft and pliable you are in his arms right now, he thinks he’s got more than a fighting chance at claiming you for the very first time; so that no one else can. Well , besides Sammy, but that’s a given.

Sebastian taps your thigh with his cum covered fingers to get your attention again, now that Sam has stopped diverting you with wolfish laps. “You were saying?” He prompts you again, placing a chaste kiss to the top of your head while he idly grabs and tugs at your hip.

“Um— Thank you… For, y’know… All that.” You sheepishly sigh, which can only mean one thing.

Reality is settling, isn’t it? The fact that you friends have just fucked you into submission, tore your first group orgasm out of you without a care in the world. Sebastian wonders about what you must be thinking right now. Do you regret it, or are you just shy? Given the slight tremble still present in your legs as Sam kisses down them, awaiting Sebastian’s instructions, he thinks you must have enjoyed yourself at least. He’s experienced Sam’s tongue enough times to know how deceptively adept he is at using it. But, in the off chance that you might be feeling the beginnings of repentance, Sebastian’s quick to act.

“There’s no need to thank us yet—” He huffs, pulling away from your side only to manhandle you into a different position. You’re still drunk off that high, aren’t you? It’s easy to tell since you’re so easy to move, without a single word he’s able to mould you into shape. “We’re just getting started.”

And there it is. A flicker of recognition in your glassy eyes, the threat of welling tears as you suddenly understand that you had only asked for a kiss; a fairly simple act in and of itself, no? Innocent , even. And yet, despite your utter overstimulation thanks to Sam’s dog like tendencies to lick and lick and lick until the sun comes up, the thought that they have more to show you is overwhelming, isn’t it? Sure looks that way when you scrunch your nose up in confusion, eyes wide at the feeling of his hands ghosting your legs. It’s the cutest look in the world Sebastian thinks, finally tugging at his neglected cock after he’s got you in the perfect missionary position— except your head hangs low over the edge of the bed.

In the spirit of getting rid of your firsts, why not go all the way, right? It’s what Sebastian is thinking anyway as he drips globs of precum down onto your cunt. Accidentally, of course, but the picture is pretty all the same. Like a claim, mine .

The weight of what’s about to come must be heavy on your chest, hypnotising Sebastian as he watches it rise and fall in anticipation. Nobody moves once in position, all awaiting some sort of right moment to get started again— that is until you let out a little squeak. A pitiful sound, one that has his cock all twitchy and drooly.

“I don’t— I thought we were just gonna kiss . I don’t think I’m ready for— Ah! ”

He’s known to have some persuasive hands. Tickling up and down your trembling thighs, eyes trained on the bob of your throat when he inches just a little too close for comfort against your cunt. There’s no need to be shy now, you’ve just covered his sheets in cum.

“C’mon, you’re a big girl, aren’t you? Just the tip wont hurt. Promise we won’t go any further, right Sammy?”

Sam lags behind, catching Sebastian’s eye with a roll of his own, knuckles white where they grip at the edge of the bed— either side of your head. He wonders how Sam must look to you, from your angle where you hang off to stare at him from below. Does he look just as ruined as he does to Sebastian right now? Or maybe all you can see is cock. Heavy and heady, dangling just out of reach from your lips. Do you want a taste? And then, he can only imagine how he himself must look. Red hot cock jerking all over your front, so close he can practically taste your cunt already, experimentally letting his thumb hover close enough to spread your lips apart and— oh , what a pretty girl you are. All nice and wet, puffy little clit just begging for some more stimulation. He can’t hope to hold himself back now, huffing short bursts of air as he teeters on the edge of just shoving it in already , exhaling sharply through his nose like some sort of dog.

“Uh-huh.” Is all Sam offers, and Sebastian gets it. Really, he feels it on some sort of spiritual level. The cockiness to his friends tone, the curt nature of the response. They’re both at their limit, and they’re both seedy little liars who want nothing more than to just fuck you silly. To ruin a pretty virgin like you.

A rather simply ask, no?

“Won’t that… Y’know, hurt or something?” You mumble, shying away further from their faux promise. Sebastian only wishes he could see your expression at the same time as your timid question, he bets you wear worry well.

Regardless, he lines his leaking tip up to your sopping cunt despite your vocalised worries, impatience thick in his selfish action when he tugs at his tip a few times, biting down on his bottom lip so as to not embarrass himself by moaning at the slightest touch. Because he wants to, not even inside of you yet and he’s already close to painting you white. You were responding so well to them earlier, all pretty moans and sighs, so give them what they’re due. It’s only fair, right?

But still, he shrugs. Even if you can’t physically see it, he’s not fully present to provide an attentive answer to your understandable question anyway, easily sliding his tip between your folds slowly . Teasing himself more than anything, rutting himself to the edge just for fun. Because you’re under him, and he wants to. A quick gasp shared among friends at the slippery glide up and down reminds him of your position, jaw tight with barely there restraint as he hisses something, anything through his teeth. Just to get the ball rolling again.

“The tip? No, absolutely not.” How would he know? He’s not the one about to take cock right now. But he’d say just about anything if it meant he got to bury himself deep inside your tight virgin little hole. Not that his answer actually matters with the way Sam’s cock blocks your vision, jerking precum onto your chin just like how his cock hovers nears your hole— you’ll soon have no way your voice concern.

And the sooner that happens the easier for him, looking up at Sam for all but a second before his nails dig into your thighs to pry them open even wider, spurred on by the look of desperation Sam adorns when feeling the heat of your breath brush against his profusely drooling tip. Sebastian’s heavy cock slips and slides between your folds on a whim, his breath hot and fraught with absolute need to steal your virginity away in the worst way possible. But you’re soft, aren’t you? A shy little lamb, ripe for his brutal taking. He panders to you once more, preparing himself for what he assumes will be one of the best experiences of his life. Sullying his best friend— is there anything better?

“Just the tip, okay? You can do that for me, can’t you?” He sighs above you, both in love and frustration. You feel so fucking good already, he fucking hates it. “Promise it won’t go further, just the tip.”

“I— Guys, I’m not sure if I’m ready for this—” Oh, how cute you sound when so scared. It’s okay, he believes in you.

But more than that, Sam is at his limit. A forced groan garbs Sebastian’s attention away from watching his cock almost disappear into your tight hole, finger fucked and stretched for him , but Sam begs for attention.

“Course y’are. Why else would y’be this fuckin’ wet, huh?” He seethes, and the urgency lacing his words just does something to Sebastian’s brain. Short circuits it, forces him to reconcile with the fact that he’s never heard Sam get this agitated during sex before. It’s nice. It’s hot seeing his best friend all worked up like this, watching in slow motion as Sam angles his pretty cock to your lips only to smear precum all over them, a wet gloss coating the lower half of your face due to how much Sam needs you. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel the way Sebastian’s cock begs against your cunt, how your hips wiggle and shift under him as if asking for that which you’re so scared of. Don’t worry, he’ll hold your hand through it. S’not so bad when it happens, you might even enjoy yourself— though that part isn’t necessary.

There’s ought else left to do but join in on the fun, something that takes Sebastian a second to consider as he appears hypnotised by the sight of your lips parting automatically, like your body knows what to do even if you’ve never done it before yourself. A natural born slut , of course you’re going to enjoy yourself. Wet little cunt gushing around his cock before he’s even put it in; you’re pleading to be domesticated, aren’t you? And fuck the sound you make when Sam slyly slips inside of your wanting mouth? All muffled and choked, matching perfectly with Sam’s aggressively relaxed sigh into you.

Without a single thought else, he finally, fuck he’s been waiting so long for this moment, pushes inside of you. Just like he promised, only the tip. But immediately he has to tear his hands away from your thighs and instead plant them at either side of your waist to even hold himself upright, sheer pleasure striking down his spine for him to shiver into you, and then before he has a chance to even adjust to your tight little virgin cunt, he’s already setting a far too unfair pace even for himself to keep up with. Forget just the tip , fuck, are you kidding him? Pure desperation, unadulterated pleasure present in every stroke of his cock inside, fists balled into his sheets below to search for any semblance of control left— but your cunt sucks it out of him, just as well as your hole already sucks him off; you should be thankful he went through the extra effort of prepping you, especially when you’ve offered him your sweet seclusion tonight. And wow... You really must be a virgin from how immediately tight you are, he finds it difficult to fully rock into you until drawing his hips back a few times. He could have easily taken you as soon as you walked in, but fuck if he isn’t happy that he took the time to open you up. Help finger your first orgasm out of you so that you squeeze around his cock that little bit harder from overstimulation now that he’s inside, causing him to moan into the guttural sputters Sam’s face fucking pounds out of you.

He’s sure that if your throat wasn’t currently occupied with cock right now you’d be a whimpering mess for him, hips rolling into you with precision, a practised back and forth along your unkissed walls for him to ruin . Because that’s what he wants to do with you, wants to corrupt you to the point of shame, destroy any hope of you enjoying anyone else in future because no one but him and Sam could ever hope to have you feeling the way you do right now. The perfect mixture of fear and pleasure, unsure of what to focus on more— his balls slapping against your ass to leave a soft plap! sound filling the air, or the taste of Sam’s salty precum dripping down your throat.

He’s thrown out of his indulgent thoughts only because of Sam’s greedy gulps of air, the look of fervour should be illegal on him. “Shouldn’t— Ah, fuck , jus’ like that—” Sam cuts himself off, almost falling into you from how hard he leans over, back bent to better fuck your throat with. “Should you be wearing a— a condom, right?” he finally manages to force out in between humps and moans, but Sebastian doesn’t miss the sick smile Sam wears with his otherwise serious words. The shared understanding going straight to Sebastian’s cock at how mean they’re treating you right now, with no regard for your thoughts or feelings because you just feel that good . Even if he wanted to take you into consideration, every thrust inside of your tight little virgin cunt renders him useless, a mere babble of sighs and groans, emphasising his want for you with cruel humps and grabby hands at your waist. Tugging lightly at your skin for some kind of purchase, because his mind can scarcely keep up with every unfair squeeze your hole wraps around his length.

“Ah, probably—” Sebastian sighs, but there’s no intention behind it. Lazily fucking his cock inside of your almost too tight cunt, the mere thought of pulling out to put on a condom causing his heart to race. His mind to repeat no, no, it feels too good to leave now! “Jus’ a few more seconds, then— Then I will. Promise .” He whispers those last words to you, but you’d never be able to tell by the way he stares at your cunt, eyes trained on where his cock disappears inside; it’s more like he’s talking about you rather than to you.

“She feels— shit , feels so good, doesn’t she?” Sam half laughs, half moans into the feeling of your throat tightening around him at his dirty words. Sebastian can feel it too, the way your hole wraps even snugger, as if you were asking for more.

And it’s not that Sebastian disagrees, but the tight squeeze fit inside honestly just leaves him a little breathless. Brows furrowed in pure concentration not to bust a load inside of you already. He knew you were gonna be tight, but fuck aren’t you taking things a little too far? His hips stutter into you, all precision lost on him when you wriggle around under him, the sight of your hands clawing at Sam’s hips driving him insane with lust pooling in his tummy. Dirty girl , you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

“She’s a tight fuck, God , you gotta feel her, gotta fuck her—” Sebastian rambles, mind almost as much of a mess as his thighs currently are with your sticky slick and the gush of precum that dribbles down your ass to stain his sheets with every shove of his cock inside. Greedy , eager thrusts, fucking himself into a sweat that clumps his hair to his forehead, a few drops trickling down to hit your exposed tummy. Talking about you like you aren’t really there, just a hole to be fucked, an object they have the pleasure of using. And it’s a pleasure indeed, especially when Sebastian rocks his hips so deep into you that his tip kisses your cervix, prompting him to apply more weight to your sides for better leverage. A sharper angle to fuck you in, rough moans crawling up his throat at the gargled sounds you’re forced to make in response to the ruthless throat fucking Sam has you enduring. You look so cute when pliable, tits bouncing for Sebastian to become mesmerised to. He wants em back in his mouth, but he can’t slow his thrusts down enough to latch on.

But above, where Sam and Seb can look at each other, Sebastian notices how little distance is left between them. Both bent over your pretty body, taking what they want from you simply because they can. And in the heat of the moment, after a quick glance at each other, Sebastian’s tongue pokes out for just a second too long before Sam falls further forward, tongues meeting before lips eventually do too. Feeling his friends tongue glide against his own, and then eventually the weight of having his tongue sucked whilst being balls deep in your cunt has his cock throbbing hard, leaking more precum out against your walls to increase the already egregious wet slap of his thrusts. It’s all a bit too much even for him, let alone poor little virgin you, taking it in both holes because you’re in no position to fight back. And that turns him on even more too, openly moaning loud and clear down Sam’s throat while yours is getting fucked, swallowing every drip of saliva and needy groan Sam has to offer him while pinching at your sides for grounding. But it’s useless, isn’t it? With the way your insides squirm around his cock, how tight and taut his balls grow with every slap against your ass, the feeling of one of your hands wrapping so firmly around his wrist, like you’re scared that if you let go you’ll disappear, makes him sigh with adoration.

And he wants to reassure you that in spite of their rather inattentive and immoral actions tonight, they’re thankful to be using you, but Sam has one hand on your throat to feel his length hump up and down it, and the other at the back of Sebastian’s neck, effectively pinning him in position to suck some tongue. Not that he’s complaining, but God , with the way you cunt is forced to stretch to his size, a greedy need to fuck you into the shape of him, to leave your body printed on his sheets for the days to come, selfish desire dribbling from his tip and onto your cervix with every rapid thrust inside— barely able to catch his breath from Sam stealing it, humming between moans shared amongst friends because you feel so fucking good all tight like that, oh my God . It’s too much, he feels so good bullying his cock inside of you again and again, feeling the throb from tip to balls, drooling and trembling over your exposed front thanks to how messy of a kisser Sam is when lost in the feeling of your tongue massaging his length.

And the realisation suddenly hits him as he feels the all too familiar twitch in his cock, tummy doing a little flip as he forcefully removes his lips from Sam to take a sharp intake of air. A gasp, downright dirty in how he chokes on it, followed by a high pitched little whine that he wasn’t aware he could make— the things you do to him .

He’s fucking you . One of his best friends, a filthy little virgin in spite of how expertly your body reacts to his grabs and pulls, his head thrown back in pleasure only to swing the other way to hang low as his thrusts grow sloppier. Less precise and more feeling , unable to keep a consistent rhythm when your body knows exactly how to squeeze him just the way he likes, the puddle of slick and pre collecting under you coaxing him to add to the pile. His heart aches with even more twisted want.

“You’re so good to me—” he practically huffs, annoyance lacing his tone in spite of the otherwise kind compliment. It’s just— Fuck , he can’t focus. So close to the edge due to all your previous teasing, the devious smirk Sam wears when listening to his feminine fucked tone only adding to his frustrations “Best— God , you’re the best friend ever—” he laughs, but it’s all breathless and barely there when suffering the snug fit of your cunt. Like you were made to take his cock; and soon to be Sam’s. Held off just for them, didn’t you pretty girl? With how good you have him feeling, it’s easy for Sebastian to convince himself of such facts. “Just— You’ve jus’ gotta lay there and take it, okay? That’s all— all you’ve gotta do. ” He winces into his words, doing his best to hold off on cumming for just a little longer, burying his bully cock into you just a little deeper. Because despite having the rest of the night to share with you, he’s selfish ; and he doesn’t wanna stop. Not for anything, your cunt is so warm and nice, sucking off his heavy cock so sweetly— the thought of having to stop irks him instantly.

And he doesn’t think you’ll ever quite understand the joy turned lust at taking your virginity like this. How he feels just so special to be treating you like this— knows deep down in the pit of his stomach that Sam will too, especially when enjoying his sloppy seconds he’s about to give you like the nasty man he is. How he can feel your cunt struggle to fit his fat size, fucking your shape into the sheets below, Sam’s hands rough around your throat to really face fuck you now— he must be close. Sebastian can’t blame him, teetering dangerously on the edge himself through sheer willpower alone, he wants to watch you get ruined just as much as he wants to ruin you. Their perfect little princess turned slut, a mess of fluids and dumb brains, he feels lucky to be able to see you like this; even if it’s only because he and Sam have worked together to coax you into the bunny trap they laid out with ill intentions. But can you blame them? Surely not, your cunt doing her best to milk him dry, accepting his full fat length like a good girl . He decides to reward her with lazy pets, inaccurate circles against your clit more as a distraction than anything of substance. A self serving action, playing with you more as a toy than as someone who would like touch; but he doesn’t feel or hear you protesting, quite the opposite really.

Nails clawing on his arms, begging just as much as his cock does when it twitches inside of you. It’s okay, he understands all to well what you’re probably feeling right now; or at least he thinks he does. He can only guess after all. But the way you desperately cling on for dear life, how your legs raise just a little , like you’re trying to get closer to him, or better yet— help him hit that spot inside of you that you must intrinsically understand exists, tells him all he needs to know. You’re close again, and by the looks of things, so is Sam.

It’s your choice at the end of the day. That’s what he’s worked so hard for together with Sam to try and make you feel. If you wanna cum, you will. His thumb drawing sloppy circles against your clit while his cock stutters inside of you, quick snap thrusts to rub his tip across your cervix again. He’s alarmingly close to cumming inside of you already, and he’s got no qualms about finishing before you have the chance. Though embarrassingly, Sam seems to have beat him on that front. A cough of your name, stuck in his friends throat with a final thrust down your own— surely leaving you suffocating from the amount of cum Sam tends to shoot. Which is hot, Sebastian quickly decides. Balls tightening up at the sound of Sam’s loud whines, the sight of the little bit of cock you weren’t able to swallow pulsing against your tongue doing things to him, God . You’re so hot without even trying, even the little sniffles and wheezes you let out when Sam eventually pulls out of your throat are cute, allowing Sebastian full control of your body which he happily takes within his own two hands.

Now that he has you all to himself, he takes proper hold of your hips and fucks you down , matching his every upwards thrust to leave you squeaking like a fucking toy. So hot, so fucking hot, fuck — he feels dizzy . Particularly when you gasp out a quick feels good, Seb! And he’s got no choice but to hammer into you now. Acting the savage with how fast he fucks into you— Sam has to hold your shoulder weight with how hard he thrusts, practically fucking you off the bed to leave the mattress squeaking just as much as you do.

“ You cant—” he takes a big gulp of air, struggling to keep up with his speed. “Can’t just fucking say that , you’re so fucking hot—” red hot embarrassment rises to his cheeks from how pathetic he sounds, all high and soft, like a bitch in heat. Which is humiliating mostly because he’s supposed to be making you sound like that. “Letting me hit it raw? Fuck , so hot, I—”

He’s close. Thumb thrumming away at your clit out of instinct, begging to feel you cream his cock while he fucks you into the mattress below. And thankfully, it only takes a few more rubs for him to get what he wants— you’re such a good friend, aren’t you? Treating him so well, giving him exactly what he wants when he wants it; such a good little fuck for a virgin .

And while he’d love to praise you to the high heavens for cumming around his cock all sweetly like that, mouth hanging open in a silent sob, a quiet whisper of his name quickly following as your insides grip his cock so tight it’s almost too difficult for him to move— you’ve left him dumb . Rendered stupid inside of your no longer virgin cunt in awe at how fucking good it feels to make you cum. Addictive, almost. Because as soon as he starts spilling inside of you, he already wants to do it again. And again, and again, continuing his thrusting despite your sobs for him to stop out of overstimulation— that’s the best bit, don’t you know? To soak your insides white while you cry all cutely for him, the little sniffles you send his way only prompting more cum to shoot, cock fucking it as deep as possible when his hips refuse to let up. And even when you’ve fully milked him and he knows he’s running empty, he just can’t stop. Gently rolling into you despite how he’s quickly softening, only fully stopping when he inevitably slips out and he can watch his seed ooze out of you like some sort of triumph.

When he does take the time to look at something other than your cunt, he catches sight of how messy you are. From head to toe, a blushing beauty mess thanks to their treatment. It’s a good look, y’know. Has his cock already wanting more, silently trembling against himself while he catches his breath enough to compliment you. “Done so well.” He smiles earnestly, and he means it. You should look like that more often.

“Seriously!” Sam beams, back to his ordinary sunshine self after gaining more time to calm down than you and Sebastian. “Dunno about you, and no offence Seb— But, best fuck of my life.”

Sebastian scoffs at his crass words, despite how true they might be. Which is why he feels there’s no need to verbalise no offence taken , because it’s true. You’re such a good fuck that he can’t give you up, not after having a taste himself. And besides, you seemed to enjoy yourself too, didn’t you? The stupid smile you wear as you come down from your first high, the gentle shake in your legs as you paw at Sebastian to gain his attention.

He tilts his head in your direction, away from the sweet smile Sam wears and down to your just as dulcet tone. “Best— Um, sorry.” You giggle, hiccuping into your words in such a cute manner than he almost wants to choke you. Show you again and again exactly what you do to him, and by extension, Sam. So pretty without even trying, it’s annoying. He loves it. “Best kiss ever, I think.” You manage to get out, and Sebastian can only hang his head low in agreement, a twinge of guilt crawling up his throat.

“In that case…” Sam distracts him, moving to the bed and crawling over beside Sebastian, lightly pushing him out of the way. Sebastian would complain if it were worth the while, but he’s got an idea as to what Sam is about to say already, so he automatically assumes the position at your head: just like where Sam was. “Why stop now?”

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