#Content assignment help | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cityselcouth · 2 months ago

Text

for research purposes

pairing: caleb x reader

summary: how on earth were you supposed to write a good sex scene with almost zero experience? good thing your best friend was always willing to lend you a helping hand.

themes: childhood best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, friends with benefits, college! au, slowburn, humour, fluff, angst, petnames, profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, explicit sexual content (oral fem receiving, fingering, nipple play, protected + unprotected sex, clothed sex), porn with so much plot, they're both down bad asf

word count: 25k

lyns notes: its been so long since i've written a full length fic like this, and it ended up being so much longer than I anticipated but please don't get scared by the wc 😭 its so self indulgent because i love caleb and I had way too much fun writing this so I hope you enjoy! <3

This was utterly insane, even for you.

The idea started small, though you supposed you couldn’t ever classify it as innocent. At the time, it had been just a flicker, a fleeting thought that slipped through the cracks of your composure. You were in your best friend's dorm, lounging on his bed like it was your own as you complained.

“I’ve been stuck for weeks now. It’s like I’ve lost the ability to write.”

Caleb glanced over at you from his desk, leaning back in his plush chair as the movement of his fingers over the laptop keyboard stilled for a moment. The expression you received was familiar, you had been on the receiving end of it for years now. One of his lips quirked up, deep lavender eyes alight with amusement, and one eyebrow raised as he took in your anguished state.

“You haven’t lost the ability to write, Pipsqueak, it's just writer's block. You’ve had writer's block before.”

“Not like this.” You shook your head, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on them. “I usually manage to overcome it in a week or so. It’s been like, three months.” Your annoyance with yourself was obvious to him, so clear in the slight pout on your mouth paired with that indignant expression.

It was true, you had been writing ever since you were little. Your imagination ran wild as a child, even before you could physically write, you would spin tales and make up stories to entertain yourself with, frequently getting lost in your own little world. You prided yourself on this talent of yours that helped you breeze through English essays and writing assignments, even going so far as to major in English at university. Writing was your bread and butter. It was more than just being good at it, it was the passion and fulfilment you felt when you did it.

Passion and fulfillment your ass, you couldn’t feel any of that right now.

You were writing a book, your very first one that you started penning in the summer before your sophomore year. The idea had come to you out of nowhere, and once you spent hours outlining all the details, you were certain it was something you wanted to bring to life. The need to finish it burned through you as you spent most of that break stuck at your desk, hunched over your laptop. Caleb had to quite literally drag you out of your room most days, muttering some nonsense about vitamin D and too much screen time.

He had always been like that ever since you were kids – protective, caring, attentive. It was built into his very being, you supposed, ever since he saw you cry outside the first-grade classrooms as a seven-year-old and promised to help you find your way to the correct one. Even now, as he hummed in thought, offering silent support for your frustration.

“You’ve gotten through a large chunk of it, right?”

“Yep.”

A slow, bargaining smile stretched out on his face. “Hey, you know, maybe if you let me read it–”

“Hell no.” You shook your head stubbornly. “I told you, I’m only letting you read it once it's finished, and I think it’s good enough.”

Caleb snorted, “So you mean never?”

You promptly threw one of the plushies on his bed at him. He deftly caught it, laughter slipping from him as he threw it back. The plushy was a grumpy apple one that he had won you back home at the arcade, but the pile of plushies on your bed was so huge that you graciously suggested that he keep it for you. Partial custody, you had joked, I have visitation rights.

“You’ll be the first to read it. I just….need to get through this one bit.”

Ah yes, the bit. The part that you seemed to be cursed to never finish. Everything before it had gone so smoothly, the words flowing and pouring out of you so perfectly. A fun romance novel full of twists and humour was what you aimed to achieve, and it seemed like you were succeeding.

That was, until you reached a part of the story that you truly had no idea how to write. The technicalities of it were.…..unknown at best, to you, who had almost no experience in the matter.

“You know, maybe you could tell me about it. Maybe I could help.” You knew the offer was genuine. Caleb had always been someone you could fall back upon for any assistance. Being two years older than you, in your eyes, he always knew what to do when you were in a pickle. He was the type of friend who placed bandages on your scrapes and offered you candy so you’d stop crying. He carried a hair tie around for when you wanted to tie your hair and helped you study for tests, and explained the concepts that you didn’t understand. Every time you had a problem, he never hesitated to help you in any way he possibly could.

But this….this was something you’d rather die than ask him about.

Immediately, you shook your head a little too quickly, shooting him a tight smile. “Nope, it's fine. Just something I gotta figure out myself.

He stared at you skeptically but shrugged. “Alright. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?”

You wouldn’t.

Would you?

Absolutely not. Even thinking about it felt like a betrayal. It was like opening a can of worms that held snakes. Deadly venomous ones.

And yet here you were, your teeth digging into the plush of your lower lip as he turned back to his laptop screen, continuing to work on whatever assignment he had due. He was in his final year and was infinitely busy, though he somehow still managed to make time for you.

Shamelessly, your eyes studied him. His arms, so well defined and firm-looking, were basically on display for you when he wore that white, sleeveless tee. Dark hair, unruly and messy, no matter how many times you ran your fingers through it in an attempt to fix it. A defined jawline that could probably cut you if you dared touch it. He had grown up unfairly well, no longer the lanky young boy you once knew, now a man. A hot man you had incredible chemistry with.

A very hot man who was completely off-limits.

Still. You supposed that his help couldn’t be the worst thing in the world–

A sex scene. That was what you were struggling to right. In terms of the story, it was a very natural next move for your characters, and it made sense, and while you could simply artistically describe the ordeal and fade to black, you felt it was a necessary addition. You wanted to showcase the desperation the two characters felt for each other, just how deep their feelings ran through something more primal. You wanted it to feel right, to feel magical.

The issue? You hadn’t the faintest idea of how to go about it. In all your nineteen years of life, you had only had sex once, and it had been far from magical. It had been uncomfortable and rushed, the result of a very stupid, drunken one-night stand in your first year. The guy very evidently didn’t know how a woman's body worked, and even thinking back on it made you cringe and fold in on yourself. If it were possible to manually pluck the memory out and destroy it, you would have done it in a heartbeat.

So how on earth were you supposed to write the perfect sex scene when your one sole experience in the matter had been so terrible?

And you couldn’t ask Caleb for help. Even considering doing so made you feel as if you would spontaneously combust. He was your best friend, for crying out loud, and this crossed so many lines. You knew very well that he wasn’t a virgin by any means, having caught glimpses of the occasional hickey on his neck despite his best efforts to hide it from you. He was twenty-one, experienced and could probably talk you through it–

Nope. Not going here.

The idea of Caleb explaining sex to you was mortifying. You didn’t want to hear about any of his conquests, even just the thought of him talking about it made you want to throw up. The notion of him having sex only made your cheeks warm and your throat go uncomfortably dry.

Against your will, the thought festered. It burrowed its way into your mind and settled there as if it belonged, despite its having no business being there. This was completely unethical, but before you could stop yourself, your gaze zeroed in on his tongue darting out of his mouth, licking his lips in concentration as he typed out something. For a second, you wondered how it would feel if he dragged that tongue across the skin of your neck.

Oh my god. What if he simply showed you?

The moment that depraved idea popped into your head, you shot up, getting to your feet with urgency. Startled, he looked over at you, frowning at the alarmed look on your face.

“Are you good?”

“I’m great!” Your voice sounded funny, like you were trying to digest a rock. “I just– er– remembered I have some homework to finish for tomorrow. So I should get back to my room.” You padded over to his door, slipping into your shoes and waving at him. “See ya.”

“....Bye.” He watched your awkward, rushed movements with a puzzled look on his (very nice) face.. You nodded curtly before opening the door and escaping the confines of his dorm, out of his scrutinising gaze that could read you annoyingly well. Another minute in there and you knew he would be grilling you for your odd behaviour.

Jesus Christ. You were so screwed.

“Y/n? Girl, you gotta get your head in the game.”

Tara’s voice cut through your reverie, causing you to snap out of it. One glance up at her would reveal an unimpressed look directed at you, her hands on her hips. “Our darling editor wants to know why your article isn’t on her desk yet.”

Tara was your closest friend after Caleb, and you had met her when you joined the university paper as a student journalist. She was smart, pretty and always had your back no matter what. Blinking rapidly, you sighed, waving your hand.

“Tell Jenna I’ll have it there by the end of the day.”

“You better. You know how she is about deadlines.” Tara pulled one of the chairs from the desk beside yours closer and sat on it, resting her elbows on the armrests. “Seriously, though, why are you spaced out today?”

Well, there was no way you could tell her the truth about that. So you resorted to using a half-truth as an answer. “Writer's block.”

“Ah.”

You turned back to the screen of your computer, staring at the article you had been writing. It was almost finished, thank god. At least here, you had the facts to write around, having done your research. Very different to the situation you found yourself in regarding your stupid book.

Ugh.

“By the way, your boyfriend’s here.”

Your head snapped up at her words, already ready to argue, knowing exactly who she was talking about. Walking into the newsroom holding two coffees was Caleb, wearing that blue-orange jacket that you had bought him for one of his birthdays. He did this pretty often, sauntering in like he owned the place even though he was technically not allowed to be there. Jenna had repeatedly reminded him of this, but he brushed it off, and after a while, she simply stopped bothering. Thus, despite not being on the paper, he spent a lot of time in the newsroom.

This was another problem you faced daily: people mistaking him for your boyfriend. The number of times you had to rehash the fact that he was simply your best friend was astounding, and back when you were a freshman, the constant whistles about you dating an upperclassman– and none other than Caleb Xia– drove you mad. You chalked it down to none of them being fortunate enough to experience a friendship as fulfilling and real as the one you had with him.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You dropped your voice, keeping it just loud enough for her to hear your rebuttal that held a hint of venom, plastering a smile on your face as he closed in. Tara snickered.

“Sure, and I’m the queen of England.”

“Hey,” Caleb grinned down at you, his eyes momentarily flitting to your friend. “And what?”

“Nothing,” you said brightly, shooting her a murderous look that silently told her to zip it. She smiled innocently and shook her head, slipping back to her desk without another word.

“She’s an odd one,” he quipped, handing you one of the coffees and then shrugging off the jacket, dumping it on the free space on your desk. You already knew it was your regular order, something he had memorised years ago. You sipped the drink, letting the hot liquid calm you down, grateful for the caffeine. You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, spending it tossing and turning in your bed.

And why was that?

Caleb leaned against your desk. “Are you free later today?”

A dejected sigh escaped you. “Unfortunately, no. I need to finish this article by the end of the day, and it seems like my writer's block has infected every aspect of my life.” It was ironic, just how true that statement ran.

“Damn.” You could hear the tinge of disappointment in his voice. “I was hoping we would have movie night. I stocked up on your favourite candy.” He reached over, his fingers brushing against the skin of your forehead as he pushed some of your hair that fell in front of your eyes away from your face, neatly tucking it behind your ear like it was second nature. It was, you supposed, considering he had done so about a hundred times.

But something was different this time, or perhaps you were paying far too much attention to every little thing. To how he pulled back and the way the muscles in his forearm shifted subtly, making you wish he had kept the jacket on. The brief touch lingered on your skin, burned into it.

Fucking hell, you were a mess. A tragic, down-atrocious mess.

Your eyes lingered on his fingers for a moment. Heat crept up your neck, and you coughed, rubbing it absent-mindedly, hoping to push down the flush you felt taking over your body. It had been like this ever since the day in his dorm when your brain had decided to work against you and infect you with the thought of sex with your best friend.

What better way was there to describe your state than calling it an infection? It certainly felt like some sort of sickness with the way it plagued you against your will. Somehow, it was worse than the doomed crush you had harboured for him back when you were in high school, because at least that had been innocent. That was born out of pure admiration, and you were sixteen. A lot of things done at sixteen could be brushed off under the excuse of being young and naive. You had quickly gotten over it.

You were evidently no longer so naive. In fact, you knew too much.

“Maybe next time.” You managed to choke out finally after a silence that had stretched a beat too long. Part of you hoped he’d leave you alone now so that you could calm down and refocus your attention to the article.

But of course, he didn’t. Instead, he occupied the chair Tara previously had, complaining about one of his classes as you nodded along, sipping your coffee and glancing between him and your screen. The smooth cadence of his voice usually soothed you and calmed you down, but now it only put you on edge, flowing over scrambled thoughts like honey. Had his arms always been this nice?

You were going to hell.

All things considered, you held yourself to certain standards. You were a woman with morals and integrity, and you were not in the habit of staring at shirtless men.

Except when it was Caleb, apparently.

“Why are you half-naked?” You blurted out gracelessly, heat viciously curling up your body as your eyes dropped down to his torso. You gripped the Chinese takeout you had gotten on your way back from your evening class a little tighter as you took in his figure. A silver chain with a tag and apple pendant (something you had given him before he left for university while you were still struggling in high school) on his bare chest and perfect sculpted abs, running shorts hanging low on his hips.

“I was working out.” He said casually, taking the bag of takeout from your hands and walking back into his dorm, leaving you to follow him. You bit down on your tongue hard, almost hoping you’d draw blood.

This was ridiculous. You had seen him shirtless several times before and had never reacted like this. The other times hadn’t caused you to flush and definitely didn’t cause your heart rate to spike. It didn’t have you furiously fighting off thoughts that had threatened to consume you for over a week now, pushing them back into the furthest parts of your mind and locking them there.

“I’m almost done, could you grab sodas from the fridge?” Caleb placed the food on the table beside his bed. You wordlessly complied, picking the apple-flavoured sodas that both of you liked. Turning back to the main area of his dorm, you walked over, only to stop dead in your tracks.

Caleb was on the floor. Doing push-ups.

There was nothing inherently sexual about it in the slightest. You knew he liked to stay in shape, hitting the gym at least thrice a week to maintain his physique– a very nice physique that seemed to be your current undoing. His hair fell across his forehead, a little matted from sweat. You watched as he pressed down and back up, and in a moment of weakness, you wondered how it would be if you were under him instead of standing to the side and ogling like an idiot. Would his necklace dangle above you, swinging back and forth in your face?

Dear god. You needed to be sedated. Put down, even.

Finally, he seemed to be done, lowering himself down and then rolling onto his back. He sucked in a breath of hair, running his hands through his hair and messing it up even further. Finally, he sat up and looked up at you, a singular eyebrow raised.

“Why are you just standing there?”

Brilliant question. If only you could answer it.

Choosing to skillfully evade instead, you tossed him his soda can and grabbed his laptop from his desk, settling down next to him on the floor. Tonight, the two of you had decided to have dinner together and catch up on an anime you had started together a couple of weeks ago. It had been a while since you had properly hung out, and you knew damn well that it was all your fault.

You were avoiding him. Mentally and physically, especially physically. Caleb, however, being the understanding, saint of a man that he was, chalked it up to you being busy. He made sure to check in on you, shooting you texts or sending you funny videos he knew you’d like.

“We should try and finish all the episodes up until the latest one,” You said, opening up his laptop and logging into the anime site. “They released a new one on Wednesday.”

Caleb hummed, stretching his arms as he shuffled closer. Immediately, you froze, the close contact inciting pure panic within you. Jerking away from him, you glared, holding a hand out to keep an arm's distance between the two of you, much to his confusion.

“Put on a shirt.”

He frowned. “Why? It’s really hot.”

Indeed, it was. “Exactly. You’re all sweaty and gross.”

You really shouldn’t have said that. The moment the words left your mouth, his mouth curled into a smirk– one so disgustingly attractive that you were sure your knees would have probably buckled if you weren’t already sitting down– and his eyes lit up with a mischievous glint that told you he was up to no good. Carefully, he wrapped a hand around your wrist, and the contact has your brain short-circuiting and going into overdrive.

“I think that means you want a hug.”

“Wait– don’t you dare– Caleb!” You yelped as he tugged you harshly, forcing you to fall into his lap, his laughter resounding through the small dorm room. Awkwardly, you shoot your other hand out to steady yourself, placing it on his shoulder as you tumble into him, knee slotting in between his legs and body so dangerously close to his that you wanted to scream. Smoothly, he wrapped his other arm around your waist, circling it and somehow tugging you even closer, until you were flush against him.

“What are you gonna do now, Pips?” He taunted, voice just above a whisper right against your ear.

Unicorns, you bleakly thought to yourself. Puppies. Cupcakes. Sprinkles.

“You’re so annoying,” You hissed, throwing as much irritation into your voice as you possibly could in the hopes that it would drown out the shakiness you felt. His skin under your fingertips was warm, and you could feel that warmth through the fabric of your tank top. “Go fuck yourself.”

He laughed harder, the sound so contagious it broke you out of your downright sinful thoughts. You gripped his shoulder a little harder, mentally chastising yourself for the situation you found yourself in, knowing that there was no good reason for you to be this riled up. Playfighting with him was something you were used to; it was natural. It should not have had your blood pressure rising and heart slamming in your chest so violently.

Swallowing thickly, you barely processed how he let go of your wrist, his other arm also coming to rest around your waist as he pulled you further into his lap so that you were now sitting on top of him. Before you even had the chance to react to that, he buried his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled.

“Missed you this week,” He mumbled softly against your rapidly heating skin. You froze for a split second at the contact, hopelessly blaming the flush spread over your cheeks on the humid weather.

And then you softened.

Instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck as you hugged him back. “I missed you too,” You whispered, following up with a lie to keep him off your trail. “Just had a lot of work.”

“I know,” he said so patiently that you instantly felt guilty. He lifted his face from your neck so that he could stare at you, and it hit you just how intimate the position the two of you were in was. Although reserved with others, Caleb had always been pretty openly affectionate with you. His hand on the small of your back, fingers intertwined with yours, a light kiss to your temple in encouragement– he had been doing stuff like that to you since you were ten.

So why did it suddenly affect you so much? Why did something so normal for you make you feel so different now?

“Just….tell me about it,” he continued, those mesmerising purple eyes of his locked onto yours. “Shoot me a text. Let me know what's up with you. Don’t you remember the last time you shut everyone out because you were stressed?”

You did remember. It was during your finals last year, when the workload you had overwhelmed you so badly that you simply pushed everyone away until they were over. Caleb had to practically storm his way back into your life and demand that you take a break and slow down before you worked yourself to the bone. The fact that he remembered this only made your guilt worse because your distance this time had nothing to do with your classwork.

It had everything to do with him, though.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled, slowly slipping out of his embrace and settling down next to him once again. You had to remind yourself of what he was to you, and all this thirsting for him was neither healthy nor something a good best friend would do. “I’m not gonna do that again.”

“I’m just saying. And what the hell am I supposed to do with my free time if you’re not here to bother me?” He flashed you that shit-eating grin of his that you were starting to think was more devastating than mischievous.

You had to resist strangling him.

There was only one possible conclusion: something was deeply wrong with you.

How else were you supposed to explain your borderline insane behaviour? It had gotten even worse lately, causing you to daydream at the most inconvenient times, like when you were trying to get an assignment done or even in the middle of class. It was a wonder your professors hadn’t called you out for it yet.

Some level of restraint seemed to remain, though, with you stopping your thoughts from crossing any lines. The moment you caught your mind straying into dangerous territory, you forced yourself to stop, desperately searching for another distraction.

But there was only so much you could do. Thinking was proving to be a dangerous activity.

You pressed your palms into your eyes, hard. It was almost three in the morning, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Earlier, you had tried to write around the damned scene, but emerged fruitless. It was like an obstacle you had to clear before you could get to the next level of a game, taunting you with its incompletion.

Something else taunted you, simmering underneath the expanse of your skin. Things that hadn’t even happened yet, but you had already dreamed of them– his mouth on yours, his hands tracing your body with a feather touch.

You were even wearing one of his shirts right now, the oversized tee reaching down to your mid-thighs. Several, just like the one you currently wore, sat neatly in your closet, having been stolen from him over the years. You could faintly smell his cologne; cidery and comforting, enveloping you in what felt like it could be his embrace. Turning onto your side, you pulled the blanket over your body and stared at the wall blankly.

Caleb had been your safe space for so long, and perhaps that was why you gravitated so easily to thinking about him like this. If there was anyone you trusted in such an intimate sense, it was him.

Even if it shouldn’t have been.

God knows you needed to get laid. Unfortunately, you didn’t want just anyone.

You swore you had never been this horny before, least of all for your best friend. Thinking about him in such a salacious way was strictly a new development that was quickly ruining your life, haunting you day and night. Even now, lying in your bed, heat that was impossible to ignore bloomed between your legs.

Maybe if you just indulged once, this madness would stop. Maybe you just needed an orgasm, and then you’d stop going insane over every single interaction you had with Caleb. It didn’t even have to be about him, and this was normal; everyone needed a release now and then.

Your fingers slipped between your legs, pushing the fabric of his shirt up, tracing the outline of your cotton underwear. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let your fingertips gently graze against where you needed them most, letting your legs fall apart just a little bit–

Deep purple eyes flashed behind your closed eyes.

Gasping, you retracted your hand like you had been burned. There was no way in hell you could touch yourself with him in mind; that was everything you had been avoiding for the past three weeks, ever since the notion had first sprouted. Groaning, you buried your face into the pillow.

This had to have been the stupidest cause of insomnia ever.

Caleb 🍎 [15:32 pm] : i better see u at the party tonight :D

Caleb 🍎 [15:32 pm] : will pick u up at 9

Caleb 🍎 [15:32 pm] : no buts.

Caleb supposed that this was technically his fault.

Mentally, he had already prepared for this outcome. It was why he had barely drunk the entire night, barely finishing two drinks and opting out of playing beer pong with the rest of his friends, despite Gideon's need for another member on his team.

“Come on, Pipsqueak.” He had an arm around your waist to help steady you, ensuring you wouldn’t fall flat on your face. You stumbled into the elevator, and he jammed the number of your dorm floor as you wrapped your arms around his torso weakly, leaning into him. Right now, he was the only thing keeping you upright.

You were drunk, slurring your words and unable to walk in a straight line without any assistance type of drunk. And yes, this was his fault.

Probably. Definitely.

One of the frat houses had thrown a party, and he had insisted that you come with him. He had always been great at reading you, and for the last couple of weeks, you had seemed tense over something, though you hadn’t told him what exactly it was yet. That was fine, he knew that eventually you’d spill, but for now, all he wanted to do was help you let loose.

That was exactly what he told you to do when both of you arrived at the party, even pouring you your first drink. Halfway through the party, you seemed more relaxed than you had in the last couple of days, swaying along to the music by his side. He made sure not to drink too much, wanting to be sober enough to safely get you back to your dorm just in case you overdid it.

His intuition always ended up being right when it came to you.

You whined as the elevator dinged, the doors opening. “Everything is spinning.”

“I know, honey, we’re almost there.” He helped you walk into the hallway, smoothly taking your handbag from you and extracting your keys. Holding you tighter, he opened the door and pulled you through, carefully seating you down on your bed and taking your boots off.

Like clockwork, he grabbed a bottle of water from your bedside table, unscrewed it and held it to your cherry-tinted lips. You only used that specific lip-tint when you were going out, and each time you did, he found himself wondering if it tasted like cherry as well. Even now, as he gently propped his index finger under your chin and tilted your face upwards, he entertained the idea of tasting it for himself.

But he wouldn’t.

“Drink up,” He said softly, “You’re gonna have a nasty hangover tomorrow.”

Obediently, you parted your lips, drinking with his help. Your cheeks were flushed due to the alcohol, hair a little frizzy from the heat, but still maintaining the styling you had done before the party. To him, you looked stunning at all times, but he could see the effort you had put in to look nice tonight, from your outfit (a black halter top and jeans) to your makeup, which he knew he’d have to help you take off now.

Once he deemed the amount of water you had drunk enough, he put the bottle back and went into your bathroom, knowing exactly where to find your makeup wipes. He had taken care of you like this once before, so his body moved like clockwork. There was no point in trying to get you to the bathroom– you’d probably just sit down on the floor and stay there for the rest of the night– so he took the wipes with him and crouched down in front of where you sat on your bed.

Smiling, he held your face again, this time a little firmer. “You’d hate yourself if you went to sleep before you took your makeup off,” he whispered, pulling one of the wipes out and dragging it over the apples of your face. Then, he glanced up and into your eyes, noting how you stared at him so keenly, even through a half-lidded gaze, lips slightly parted.

If Caleb could’ve kept your attention on him like this for the rest of his life, he would have.

“What's going through that head of yours?” He cocked his head to the side, studying your intent expression. Immediately, you looked away, but he wasn’t going to back down. Something had been troubling you, and he was determined to find out what. If you wouldn’t tell him outright, he would simply have to guess. “Is it your book, again?”

Your inebriated state made it hard for you to hide things from him. You stiffened in his touch, and he chuckled. “Bingo. You know, if you just told me what you were struggling with, I’d help.” He pressed your chin lightly, angling your face downwards. “Close your eyes.” He gently wiped over your eye makeup, making sure it was all off before continuing. “I know I’m not a writer, but I’m sure I'll be of some value.”

Finally done, he neatly folded the dirty wipe and placed it to the side. “Want some more water? Alcohol is dehydrating.”

And then, out of nowhere, you spoke.

“Sex.”

Well, blurting would probably be a better way to describe how you said the word. Caleb blinked rapidly, wondering if he had heard you correctly as his face snapped back to yours, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Sex.” You slurred a little bit as you leaned closer to him, jutting your lower lip out in a pout and repeating it once more for good measure. “Sex.”

“I heard you the first time,” Caleb could hear how strangled his voice was, unable to think straight at your sudden declaration. Oblivious to his mental distress, you thrust out your hand and pointed at the laptop that sat on your desk with drunken animosity.

“I can’t write a stupid sex scene.”

You sounded so crestfallen, and he would have totally started sympathising with you if not for the reason. A sex scene? What on earth were you writing?

“I–” He swallowed, “Well–”

“I mean, how am I supposed to write a good sex scene if I don’t know what good sex feels like? Or what even like, happens?” Alcohol had certainly loosened you up, and perhaps a bit too much, having erased any filter that you had. This resulted in you rambling on about everything you would have usually kept to yourself, and for good reason. “The sex I’ve had has been shitty.”

The sex you’ve had? Caleb almost bit his tongue off in shock, staring at you incredulously at the information you had dumped on him. He hadn’t even known you had been having sex, and thank every god for that, because he would have probably jumped off a cliff if you ever talked about your sex life with him. Surely, this was some sort of twisted fever dream he had found himself in. This could not have been real life.

“Christ,” He choked out, “I–okay, maybe I can’t help you–”

“Yeah, you can.” Your eyes cut to his, a little too intense for his sanity. “If you fucked me, I’d probably be able to write the scene.”

He gaped at you, about a dozen inappropriate thoughts running through his head before he could stop it. “What did you just say?”

Teenage Caleb would have died if he had heard you say that. Adult Caleb nearly did.

You sighed heavily, and it only succeeded in causing him to spiral even more. “I thought about it. I’m sure it would be good, y’know. You’d know what you were doing, you even look like you’re good at it.”

“You’re so drunk.” He tried to reason with himself out loud, but could hardly recognise his voice with how strained he sounded. Looked like he was good at it? What alternate dimension had he just fallen into?

“Oh, come on, Caleb. I need some hands-on learning, and you–” you slurred the words as you leaned close and wrapped your hands around his bicep, peering up at him through your lashes. “–have very nice hands. They’re hot.”

You, his best friend, his pipsqueak, had thought about sleeping with him. You thought his hands were hot. The news nearly killed him, and he had to force himself to look away from you, his mind running at a mile a minute. Heat prickled at his face and neck, impossible to ignore as he cleared his throat and stood to his feet, pulling away from your touch.

“You should sleep.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, stepping away from you. “I–I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was as if he were going through puberty all over again, with the way his voice cracked embarrassingly as he spoke. He left your room hurriedly, barely getting his shoes back on as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

Caleb exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose as the back of his head hit your door. All these years of barely keeping it together around you, carefully tiptoeing between right and wrong, only for you to come and crash into whatever self-restraint he had left.

Right and wrong.

All of a sudden, he wasn’t sure if he was going to choose correctly anymore.

Death had to have been more merciful than the pounding in your head. Grabbing the covers, you pulled them over yourself like a cocoon, trying your hardest to block out all noises and sink even further into your mattress.

Unfortunately, your hangover-induced headache made it nearly impossible for you to go back to sleep. Cursing, you forced yourself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up and change out of your clothes and into something more comfortable. Naturally, you gravitated towards an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts, pulling them on after a quick shower.

Then, you went right back to your bed, not wanting to face the day in the slightest. You had managed to resist throwing up so far, and even the thought of having to function like a normal human being made you recoil into your blanket and stay there for the rest of the week. Just as you began to genuinely entertain that notion, a sharp knock at your door caught your attention.

You would have ignored it if you didn’t know the pattern of this knock by heart. No one but Caleb knocked twice in sequence.

Cursing under your breath, you scrambled to the door and opened it, squinting as the bright light of the hallway outside nearly blinded you. There he stood, grinning down at you as he held up a paper bag.

“Aspirin.”

“Thank god,” you immediately let him in, taking the medicine from him and pouring yourself a glass of water. He stood right behind you as you took the pill, ruffling your already messy hair and staring for just a second too long.

“Bad morning, huh?”

“You have no idea.” You winced at the whiny nature of your voice. “It feels like my head is trying to stab itself.”

Caleb chuckled dryly, sitting down on your bed and watching as you settled at your desk and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth out the knots. Something was different about the way he was looking at you, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“You’ll be fine,” He muttered, shifting his gaze to the ceiling. You frowned, taking in the way his jaw ticked, and placed your glass of water down.

“Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.” He said it a little too brightly, glancing down at your desk. Something flickered in his eyes. “Made any progress on that book of yours?”

A frustrated sound left you buried your face in your hands, elbows on your desk. The reminder of your stagnant writing somehow worsened your headache, as if that was even possible. Of course he’d bring that up. “As usual, no.”

For a while, you had hoped that inspiration would strike you eventually, but it seemed like you were well and truly stuck. It had only taken a turn for the worse, with you suddenly despising everything you had already written, unable to even skim any of it without cringing and wanting to hit delete. Your inability to write had morphed into impostor syndrome, which was a development you didn’t appreciate in the slightest.

“It’s okay,” he said, and you would have mistaken his tone for reassuring if not for the way his lips twitched slightly. “I’m sure you’ll be able to write eventually. After you fuck me, apparently.”

Silence.

Razor-sharp silence.

Slowly, you turned your head to face him, eyes wide as saucers. “What….did you just say?”

“Only what you said last night. You said you were sure it would be good, which I beg to differ. It would be amazing, thank you very much.” He dared to smile oh-so innocently, as if he hadn’t just upgraded the superlative of what sex with him would potentially be like.

If you thought you were going to throw up before, you were sure you were going to now. You almost choked on your spit, waves of unadulterated shock crashing through your system as you gawked at your best friend, who appeared much too pleased with himself at the moment. If you weren’t so utterly horrified, you would have tried to slap the smug expression right off of his face.

“No.” The singular word comes out breathless, much to your mortification, your gut churning at the implications of that statement. “No, no, no–”

“Oh yes,” He grinned wickedly, leaning back on the palms of his hands.

“What–what the fuck did I drink last night.” You tried your levity, but your embarrassment ran too deep. Reaching up, you covered your face with your hands in a pathetic attempt to hide away from him. Never, in a million years, had you ever accounted for having this conversation with him, of all people, and you were almost certain there was something in your drinks that had made you say what you did.

His velvety laugh echoed through your dorm, and you wanted nothing more than to fold in on yourself. This had to have been the worst moment of your life.

“I guess you don’t remember, huh?” There was an amused lilt to his tone that made you want to jump out of the window. “I can refresh you, if you’d like.”

“NO!”

The shriek that left you was nothing short of abashed. He leaned forward now, smirking at you conspiratorially. “What's wrong? I thought you needed,” he paused, as if recollecting the exact words you had said to humiliate you even further. “Hands-on learning?”

You pointed to the door, biting back a scream. “Get out.”

The smirk only grew. “Aw, but if sleeping with me is gonna help you write again–”

“OUT!” You glared, cheeks flaming. Your anxiety had prepared you for at least a hundred outright ridiculous situations that had no chance of ever occurring, but none of them accounted for the possibility of your best friend talking about sleeping with you. You couldn’t fathom how he seemed so unaffected by it, as if he were speaking about something as mundane as the damn weather.

Caleb tongued his cheek, evidently fighting off another bout of laughter. He raised his hands to his sides in a placating gesture, but it did nothing to soothe your frazzled nerves. If anything, it only distracted you further, your eyes betraying you and straying to glance at his hands. A suppressed memory from last night resurfaced in your mind's eye, much to your displeasure.

You have very nice hands. They’re hot.

That was it. You were never going to touch alcohol again. Sobriety was your way of life now, seeing that you couldn’t keep your mouth shut when under the influence. The next time you need to let off some steam, you’d have an iced coffee.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go.” He moved towards your door, hiding his teasing smile behind his fist, disguising his chuckle with an exaggerated cough. “But Y/n?”

He didn’t use his beloved pet name. You straightened slightly, momentarily pushing away your embarrassment at the sudden serious shift of his voice. He opened the door and paused, hesitating for a single second. Then, he looked back at you, all-consuming, violent eyes locking onto yours.

“I would do it if you asked.”

You sighed heavily as you walked out of your last class of the day, rubbing the back of your neck and peering up into the darkening sky. Thursdays were the one day of the week when you had longer classes one after the other, which always resulted in you feeling exhausted by the end of it. You barely had the energy to even think about putting together dinner, which your best friend knew, always swinging by once your class ended with enough take-out for both of you and to walk you back to your dorm.

Which meant…

“I hope you’re in the mood for Thai food.”

Caleb slid into your view with that easy-going smile of his, though lately and much to your annoyance, there seemed to be a knowing glint in his gaze every time it settled on you.

“I’m in the mood for anything edible.” You sighed as you began walking back to your dorm. He easily fell into step beside you, as always, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You supposed it was, considering how long your friendship had lasted. It would be almost twelve years soon, and honestly, you could hardly remember a time when he wasn’t around.

He hummed, knowing how cranky you got when you were hangry. “So easy to please.” It was the way he said it, knowing and with a tone so low that it almost resembled a purr. It had goosebumps rising on the surface of your skin. A little outraged at the way you reacted, you glanced over at him, only to find him already looking at you.

It was how he always looked at you, with conviction and every ounce of his attention. Yet, it felt different, more intense. Or maybe that was just your brain playing tricks on itself.

I would do it if you asked.

Those seven words had haunted you from the moment he had spoken them. The serious expression on his face mixed with the quiet way he had said it– it had undoubtedly fucked you up a little more than you would have liked to admit. You were beyond infuriated and in complete disbelief over how he had simply offered to sleep with you. Like it wasn’t a big deal or a very major, clear boundary that existed in friendships. In your friendship.

If you asked. Like it was that fucking simple. He left your dorm since you demanded it of him, but left you to deal with the aftermath of that absolutely criminal statement of his.

And then there was the teasing.

Relentless and unsteadying. Caleb would say something a little too suggestive or downright sexual before retreating and pretending like nothing had happened. He’d hold your gaze a little longer, or let his touch linger, before looking away with a satisfied smirk. He knew damn well what he was doing, and although you did too, it didn’t stop you from flushing or freezing up. It certainly didn’t stop scenarios from writing themselves in your head.

He was torturing you for your little slip-up. He found it hilarious, and now you were the punchline for every joke that blossomed from it.

He cocked his head to the side now, a small, tilted smile on his lips as he spoke. “What's going on in at head of yours?”

You realised you had stopped walking, and so had he, instead standing right in front of you and occupying every part of your vision. “Nothing.”

Caleb quirked an eyebrow, taking a step closer. “You sure about that? You’re obviously thinking about something.” The cadence of his voice had always been nice, but now the velvety smoothness of it put you on edge in more ways than one. “Are you maybe thinking about–”

“I am not thinking about that.” The statement tumbled out of you before you could bite your tongue. His eyes lit up mischievously.

“Oh, so you’re thinking about something after all, are you?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, struggling to findd to find a comeback to that. Somehow, he was even closer now.

“Mind telling me what exactly that is?”

“Stop it,” You almost snarled, shooting him a withering look as you pushed him away in order to reclaim your personal space. This teasing streak of his was getting unbearable, especially since it was anything but innocent and was driving you up the wall. “Or I’m gonna take the Thai food and leave you with nothing.”

An offended gasp. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

He laughed at your threat and finally let up on you, going back to being the Caleb you knew. He spoke of his classes and the group project he had due at the end of the week, for which he had terrible teammates to work with. It was jarring, how easily he could shift back into acting like he hadn’t just insinuated something so….

Maybe it was just your dirty mind.

Unbeknownst to you, it definitely wasn’t just your dirty mind. Caleb was mentally punching himself.

Caleb had had years of practising self-control when it came to you. Years of holding back and hiding the feelings he had for his best friend, shying away from every opportunity to divulge them. He knew how to keep his hands to himself, his mind from straying and his tongue from running into dangerous territory. He hadn’t meant to do it, but your drunken confession had flipped a switch inside of him. The lines had gotten a little blurry, but he would never, in a million years, ever actually cross them.

So what the hell was wrong with him?

You still hadn’t written a word. Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t even complain about it in peace anymore. Not if you wanted to maintain even a modicum of your sanity.

The reason for said dwindling sanity was sitting beside you right now on his bed, his arm slung around your shoulder, fingers tracing abstract patterns on the top of your shoulder. Usually, this would have calmed you down and even made you sleepy, but it achieved the complete opposite right then. You were painfully awake, his feathery touch like electricity against your skin.

God, you were so fucked. You had hoped that Caleb’s incessant teasing would have put a damper on your sudden, strong attraction towards him, but nothing of the sort had happened. It seemed to have only gotten worse, with you ending up being jumpy whenever he was around, and considering the amount you hung out with him, you were starting to resemble a kangaroo.

Around him, you were constantly tense and always on the precipice of being turned on. To say it was hellish would be an understatement.

“You’re distracted,” he murmured as the credits of the movie you were watching played. Finally, the two of you had managed to find the time to have that movie night you had passed on weeks ago. You shook your head, glancing up at the clock that hung on his wall. It was a little past midnight.

“Just frustrated,” you said finally, because it was the truth in more ways than one. Your frustration with your writing, or lack of, ran deep, but now it was intertwined with another very persistent reason. Being sexually frustrated wasn’t something you were used to dealing with.

He seemed to have caught on, though, his hand falling from your shoulder to your waist, curling around it. “Why are you frustrated, Pipsqueak?” He drawled, turning his head so that he faced you now. Of course, he’d pick this moment to torment you, when you were already frazzled.

“No reason,” you said quickly, voice clipped. A slow, languid smile stretched out on his lips.

“No?” He asked, the side of his mouth tilting. “Could it be….”

“Stop talking.” You despised how hoarse your voice sounded. You wanted– no, needed him to stop doing this before it became unbearable. He was your best friend, for fucks sake. The smile on his annoyingly perfect face melted into a smirk that would have had your knees weak if you weren’t already sitting down.

“I don’t think I will.” He whispered, pulling you even closer as he dipped his head down until his lips brushed against your ear. It was like he wanted you to break, and god, you were so close to doing so. His hand slid up your waist just a little bit. A shiver ran through you, one you couldn’t have suppressed if you tried.

“Tell me,” He mumbled, the words sounding much too loud even though he was still whispering. “Do your frustrations have anything to do with a certain sex scene you’re trying to write?”

You inhaled sharply.

Rationality was a funny thing. Every bit of it seemed to disappear whenever you truly needed it. Things you had no business thinking rushed through your head, courtesy of your bright imagination that chose the most inconvenient moments to work. Thoughts you had suppressed and pushed aside every time they had the nerve to pop up swirled around.

The spark that you had been trying so hard to put out crackled to life in your core, its flames spreading all across your body like wildfire. You were painfully aware of every part of you that was in contact with him, his hand just above your waist, sitting there so possessively, his breath fanning across your neck– fuck. It was too much, but somehow not enough all at once, and immediately you knew what you wanted.

More.

You snapped.

Something possessed you as you turned to look at him, a surge of confidence appearing out of nowhere as you drew closer to him. “Yeah.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Right then and there, three things became very clear to you. One: You wanted to write. Desperately and preferably sometime soon, because you did want to finish the first draft before you could go in and edit. Two: For some reason, you needed to have sex in order to get over the mental block you had when it came to writing it. Lastly, three: You only wanted to have sex with one person, and it was the man right beside you.

“My frustration has everything to do with the sex scene.” You said, surprising yourself with how steady your voice was. “But you can help with that, right?”

Without waiting for his response, you got to your knees, swinging a leg over him and settling down on top. Surprise flickered in his eyes for a second as your hands found his shoulders to maintain your balance, before he spoke again.

“Pipsqueak,” he started, voice low and careful, attempting to keep the teasing lilt in his voice but royally failing. “What– exactly– are you doing?”

“You told me to ask.” You muttered, dropping your gaze to his lips for a moment before letting it travel back up. “You said you’d do it if I asked. I’m asking right now.”

Caleb couldn’t respond, still staring up at you, eyes wide and ears a little redder than they normally were. Good. It was about time he had a taste of his own medicine. His hands found your waist again, and he blinked twice, slowly, and you prayed he wasn’t all bark and no bite.

You wanted him to bite.

“Y/n,” he muttered, “I….I know what I said.”

You raised an eyebrow, your hands slipping up his shoulders simultaneously until they were cradling his neck, playing with his hair at the nape of it. Was he shy? Now? After everything he had said and insinuated, he had the audacity to be all bashful? “So then you know what I’m asking for.”

“Well–”

“Caleb,” You cut him off, shifting so that you were closer. “I’m asking.”

Conviction laced those words. You could tell he was reasoning with himself, god knows you could read him well enough to know when he was conflicted, when he bit the inside of his cheek before exhaling shakily.

“Pips,” He rasped out your nickname. “You– you’re sure?”

You didn’t recognise the look in his eyes right then as he looked up at you, but it had you unravelling all the same. You leaned in subconsciously, but he quickly moved one of his hands from your waist to your mouth, covering it as his jaw clenched, still studying you. “I need you to tell me you’re sure, Y/n.”

Oh, so this was actually happening. You could feel the heat of your breath recoil against your face because of his hand. The ticking of the clock in his room filled the charged silence between him and you, his fingers brushing against your chapped lips. You swallowed.

“I’m sure.”

Whatever had shifted in you five minutes ago seemed to shift in him as well now. He let his hand drop from your mouth, shamelessly staring at it. “We shouldn’t.” But he pulled you closer, his arms circling your waist and palms splayed out on the small of your back.

“It’s for research purposes,” You breathed out, doing your best to justify how badly you needed him. “Please, Caleb, I need–”

He didn’t let you finish.

You gasped as he crushed his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up. The pressure of his lips against your own was dizzying, especially with the way they moved; slowly and precisely, as if he was committing the feel of your lips to his memory. You were hyperaware of his touch on your back, the warmth from his hands permeating through the thin fabric of the T-shirt you were wearing.

Pulling him closer, you tilted your head so you could kiss him better. For the number of times you had mentally chided yourself for even thinking about this, it felt remarkably natural to kiss him, your instincts taking over. Your fingers slipped into his hair, entangling in the dark strands and tugging lightly.

Caleb groaned, and you were on fire.

“God, Y/n.” There was nothing playful about the way he mumbled your name into the kiss, and the unfamiliarity of it sent a shiver down your spine. His lips, soft and just a little hesitant, moved in tandem against your own, slotting in between them perfectly like you were pieces of the same puzzle, meant to be pushed together like so. He nipped at your lower lip before swiping his tongue over it to soothe the sting, and the intoxicating sensation drew out a needy whimper from you.

The second that sound escaped you, all indecision disappeared from his end, and the temperature in the room seemed to increase, growing hotter with every smack of his lips against yours. Kissing him was addictive, it felt as if neither of you could bear to pull away from each other.

Without warning, Caleb lifted you off of him and pressed you into the mattress, swiftly climbing on top of you. For a moment, he hovered, looking down at you, taking in the flush on your cheeks and heavy breathing, proud to have been the cause of your breathlessness despite barely doing a thing. Going in once again, he brushed his lips against yours teasingly, before giving you what you truly wanted, the intensity of the kiss taking a turn for feverish.

A hand of his slid up your side until he cupped your jaw oh-so gently, turning your face to the side to give him better access to your neck, upon which he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses that had heat rush right to your core. The ache between your legs grew, slowly becoming unbearable, and you rubbed your thighs together with a whine, chasing any sliver of friction.

“Shit,” he muttered against you, his other hand slipping underneath your shirt and coming into contact with your stomach, causing goosebumps to rise on the skin. Spreading his fingers and pressing lightly, he kept you from squirming. “Pips, you gotta tell me to stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” you almost snapped at him, impatient and so painfully aroused it was embarrassing. He couldn’t hold back the breathless chuckle that escaped him as he moved lower, teeth grazing your collarbone.

“If, at any point, you want to stop, tell me,” he gritted out, trying to hold onto any semblance of self-control he still possessed. “I don’t wanna do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

You nodded quickly. “I trust you.”

That was all he needed. Lifting his head slightly, he fumbled with the buttons of your shorts as he leaned back, all his weight on his knees. Once he managed to undo them, you lifted your hips slightly to help him tug them off your body. He settled between your legs, spreading them until the pretty cotton panties you wore were exposed.

Caleb swallowed, his breathing growing erratic and heavy. The wet patch on your panties was his undoing; everything about this situation was bound to be the death of him, but he was too far gone now. He let his hand trace up to your hips, hooking his finger through the waistband of your panties, toying with it.

“Is this ok?” The column of his throat bobbed as he stared up at you from between your legs. When you whispered a needy yes, he pulled the panties down your legs, his eyes darkening the moment they settled back on your core.

“Y/n,” He said your name like he was drunk, a certain sense of reverence infused in his tone that had your cheeks kissed rouge. “You’re even prettier than I thought.”

Than he thought? You would have to take the time to dissect that statement later, much too distracted to do so at the moment when he began peppering kisses along your inner thigh, starting from your knee and working his way upwards. The sensation of his mouth tantalisingly close to where you wanted it so badly was almost too much. Just the sight of him there was so erotic that it had your head swimming. You had never felt more vulnerable than you did right then, exposed and willing.

And then finally– finally– his breath fanned out over your soaked cunt, driving you insane. Liquid fire thrummed in your veins beneath the surface of your skin as your anticipation spilled over. He pressed a light, teasing kiss against your clit.

Caleb dragged his tongue over your slit, licking up it all the way to your clit, which he wrapped his lips around and sucked, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You gasped, bucking your hips up against him, and he chuckled, the sound sending vibrations up your body, from your toes to the top of your head.

“Impatient,” he chided. “Let me take my time with you, princess.”

The new pet name sounded so natural coming from him, and immediately, you knew you wanted to hear him call you that again. He flicked his tongue against the throbbing bud that had been aching for his attention this entire time, positioning your legs to rest over his shoulders. The sounds that left you were shamefully loud, and you had never been more grateful that he lived in a single dorm.

“Cal- oh fuck,” You mewled when he swiped two of his fingers through your wetness, rubbing your folds.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he all but groaned against you, and you could feel more slick gush out of you at that. “Is this all for me?”

Your back arched off the bed when he pressed a finger to your dripping entrance, nodding with a sense of desperation you had never experienced before. “Yes,” you exhaled the word as he pushed his finger inside your pussy slowly, your jaw falling open at the pleasurable intrusion.

Slowly, he began pumping it in and out of you as he continued to give your clit the sweet attention it deserved, basking in the noises that you made. The pads of the fingers of his other hand dug into the flesh of your thigh, keeping you nice and spread out despite all your attempts to shut your legs around him.

When he introduced a second finger to your cunt, your hands found purchace in his hair, gripping and tugging as you panted, unable to focus on anything else. Your eyes fluttered shut as the tips of his fingers brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars, crooking inside you so perfectly. It was as if he knew exactly how to push you to the edge.

Your best friend was eating you out like a starved man and you were enjoying every fucking second of it. He could feel your legs begin to tremble, your impending orgasm building. Shamelessly, you bucked your hips against his face, and the moment he realised what you were doing, he increased the pace of his fingers.

“Come on baby,” he encouraged you, flattening his tongue against your clit and pulling you closer, spurring you on even further. You ground against his mouth desperately, feeling the coil in your core draw tight, so, so close.

“Caleb,” you stuttered his name helplessly, but he somehow understood, knowing just what you needed. “I–I’m gonna–”

He scissored his fingers inside of you, hooking them just right as he gave your clit little kitten licks, determined to have you fall apart on his tongue. Your sweet gasps sent blood rushing straight to his cock, which was already painfully hard, confined in his jeans. Taking your mound into his mouth, he sucked harshly, thrusting his fingers knuckle deep in your sex.

A broken moan escaped you when your climax hit you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your legs shook, but he didn’t let up, grinning proudly against you as he drove his fingers back into your gushing entrance, helping you ride out your high and prolonging it. Once he was satisfied, he lapped at you, refusing to waste even a single drop of your essence.

Caleb pulled away, and the sight of you nearly did him in. Eyes screwed shut in ecstacy and hair fanned out on his pillow, undoubtedly tangled from all your writhing. You looked like the picture of sin, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He climbed back, hovering over you again as he licked his lips.

Your eyes fluttered open, pupils blown out and dark due to the sheer level of desire that coursed through you. You were stunning, and he was destroyed, knowing that he’d never be able to forget the way you were looking at him right then. The way you tasted.

When he kissed you again, it was different. It was a heady mix of heat and tongue and want, messier than the kisses he gave you earlier, the control he had before nowhere to be seen anymore. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned, reaching out to touch him.

You started at his collar, dragging your hands down, down, down until you reached the hem of his shirt, whining against his mouth as you tugged at it.

“Take it off.”

Who was he to deny you? He stopped kissing you, sitting up so that he could pull the shirt off, exposing his torso for you. The way your eyes raked over him hungrily was more than gratifying, especially when they caught on the silver chain that hung from his neck, the pendant sitting on his chest. Tossing his shirt to the side, he pushed your own up your body, exposing the skin of your stomach.

“Your turn.”

You let him take off your shirt, tossing it to the side and slipping his hands slip behind your back. He silently asked for your permission, which you gave to him in the form of an impatient nod to which he smirked, unhooking your bra and peeling it off of you, letting the discarded garment join the rest of them on the floor.

One look at you and he was a goner.

“Fuck,” he could feel himself straining his jeans as he took in the sight of your breasts, so perfect and plush. He allowed himself a moment to appreciate you in all your naked glory, before leaning back down, his mouth back on your overheated skin. He dragged his tongue down your neck, sucking and biting like there was no tomorrow.

His lips trailed downwards, kissing the swell of your breast before wrapping around your already hard nipple, stroking his tongue against the aching peak. He palmed the other breast, giving that nipple equal amounts of attention and rolling it under his thumb. You hissed in pleasure, breathless as you arched into his addictive touch.

You could barely think straight; everything he was doing to you sent you into complete overdrive. Every touch was criminally good, the simplest of them causing your arousal to increase tenfold. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since you had last had sex, but you had never before felt so frenzied.

Hooking your legs around his waist, you could feel the outline of him pressing against your thighs. Angling your hips, you pressed your bare pussy against his bulge, the roughness of the denim rubbing you just right. He looked up at you from your chest through hooded eyes, earning another whimper as he pinched your nipple.

“You sound so good.” His words went straight to your head. “Tell me what you want.”

He said it like it was a command, and who were you to disobey, especially when you knew exactly what you wanted?

“I want you inside me,” you whimpered, voice heated with lust.

How could he ever refuse you? Caleb gave you one last kiss before reaching over to his bedside table, grabbing something from the drawer and sitting up and unzipping his pants. You couldn’t help but stare as he impatiently kicked off his jeans and boxers, eyes widening when you finally saw his cock.

Fuck, it was big. Long and painfully hard, you could hardly believe he was hard because of you, but the proof was in front of your very eyes. Your lower lip caught between your teeth as you drank in the sight of him, hyperaware of the wetness that coated your thighs.

He tore open the condom packet, smoothly sliding it onto himself before settling between your legs once.

“W-will it even fit?” You squeaked, a spike of fear cutting through the lust-filled haze of your mind. He grabbed one of your hands, bringing it to his lips and pressing your fingers to them, kissing your knuckles soothingly as he bit back a smile.

“It’ll fit.”

“But– there's no way,” You spluttered, “It’s gonna hurt.” Not that the prospect of being in a little pain deterred you by any means, you were way too horny to stop now. Complaining was probably the least sexy thing you could have done in the moment, but he seemed unbothered, the dark, hungry glint in his eyes never fading. The amused look on his face, however, was not lost on you, nor was the way he bit the inside of his cheek, fighting a smile. You glared weakly.

“Are you laughing at me?” You asked, incredulous. “I swear to god, Caleb, you’re going to split me in half, and you’re laughing?”

“Baby,” He breathed, “You’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say!”

You wouldn’t even blame him if he decided he was done with you and pulled his pants back on, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, he gripped your hips, grounding you to the moment.

Both of you were completely nude, and despite this, you had never felt more comfortable. Not when he looked at you like that, like you were something sacred.

“Relax, Pips, I’ve got you,” He whispered, sensing your apprehension. You exhaled shakily as he pressed his hard-on against your folds, groaning at just how wet you were. “Eyes on me.”

The way he took control so naturally was alarmingly attractive. You looked up, locking your eyes with his, unable to stay silent when the head of his cock rubbed against your swollen clit. “O-oh.”

He shuddered at the feeling, dropping a little so that he was keeping himself up on his elbows. His necklace swung above you just like you had imagined as he ground against you, but it still wasn’t enough. “Ready?”

You didn’t think you’d ever be ready, but you wanted it so badly you didn’t even care. Nodding eagerly, you intertwined your fingers with his, letting him press the back of your hands into the mattress. When his tip caught at your entrance, you whined. “Please.”

Having you beg him like that was dangerous. He squeezed your hands, and then slowly, carefully, sank into your wet heat, inch by devastating inch. Your jaw slackened, loudly moaning his name as he filled you up and stretched you out so pleasurably. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he pushed into you until he bottomed out, going breathless himself. One glance down to where the two of you were connected had him actively having to fight off coming right then and there.

Caleb was in heaven, and he was fucking delirious. He forced himself to stay still, moaning lowly when he felt your walls flutter around him, adjusting to his size. “You’re doing so well, princess.” He praised, lowering his head to your neck and burying his face in the crook of it, inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm himself down.

There was so much wrong with this, so why did it feel so right? You felt so perfect, like you were made for him.

“Caleb,” You whimpered once the sting faded, letting go of his hands and looping your arms around his neck, “Move. I need you to move.”

He pulled out until only his tip remained inside of you, before sheathing himself again, causing you to curve off the bed, nails digging into his skin. He did it again and again, nearly growling when he felt you grow even wetter, coating the length of his cock in your slick. Wet sounds that had your cheeks burning filled the room repeatedly.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” He practically growled, contrasting the tender pace he set, telling you he was holding back for your sake. You could feel every inch of him as he dragged against your walls, reminding you how big he was with every thrust.

Your friendship was potentially ruined, but it felt too good for you to care. With your legs locked behind his back, you gripped his biceps, a wanton moan escaping you as your eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure overriding every other sensation.

“So good,�� words were hard to put together, and he understood and nodded, holding your hips so tight you were sure there would be marks, just like the marks that blossomed all over your neck and chest from his earlier ministrations. Right now, though, you didn’t care about that, consumed by the waves of euphoria rushing through you.

Slowly, the frequency of his thrusts increased, rendering you completely winded and unable to do anything but gasp for air. You felt another orgasm steadily build up inside you.

Then he tipped his hips a certain way, the tip of his cock brushing against a spot that made you cry out his name, throwing your head back into his pillows. The look on your face was something he wanted to imprint in his memory; the desire lacing your voice was beyond exhilarating.

Caleb could feel his own impending high, so tightly wound because of just how long he had waited for something like this. When you clenched around him, he knew you were close as well, but the act nearly did him in.

“Don’t do that.” his voice was all scratchy and strained, but you promptly did it once again, high off the notion that you were affecting him just as much as he was affecting you. His hips stuttered against yours as his violet eyes flashed. “Fucking hell.”

“Oh my god,” you moaned, “I can’t–”

“Look at me,” he demanded, “I want you to look at me when you come all over my cock.”

Never in a million years would you have thought your best friend would be so good at dirty talk, but the shock quickly melted into obedience as you managed to hold his heated gaze. Reaching between the two of you, his index finger found your engorged clit and rubbed circles against it.

You squealed, overly sensitive. “Shit–I’m gonna– Cal-!”

“Come for me.”

Caleb would never forget how you looked: at his mercy, crying out his name over and over like it was a prayer as you came, spilling over his cock with a euphoric sob. He snapped his hips to yours with renewed urgency, drawing out your second climax and prolonging the feeling. When he saw the fucked out look on your face, it hit him at once.

With one final thrust, he buried himself inside you, coming with a moan, burying his face in your neck once again. His body was damp against yours, his hair tickling you as you breathed heavily. He stayed like that for a couple of seconds, recovering from the intensity of what had just happened.

Wordlessly, he pulled out of you gently, the sudden emptiness you felt having you whimper softly. Peeling the condom off, he tossed it in the bin next to his bed before climbing off of you, muttering something about being back. Seconds later, you felt a warm, wet cloth drag over your core. He cleaned you up, pressing little kisses to the inner side of your thighs.

Once he was done, he gathered you in his arms and pulled you close, kissing your temple.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away just enough so he could try and gauge how you felt, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone as he cupped your face tenderly. “I didn’t hurt you, right?”

You shook your head and leaned into his touch, completely spent. “No, it was perfect.”

He sighed in relief. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “You did so well,” he murmured into your hair, massaging your scalp gently. “You were amazing, actually.” Another kiss to your forehead made you simper as your eyes closed, exhaustion settling into you now that the adrenaline had faded. “Tired?”

“Yeah,” You mumbled. Your legs entangled with his, and he stopped talking, tracing shapes on your back while you drifted off to sleep. He watched you for a bit, savouring the skin-on-skin contact, his mind reeling from what had just happened.

This was strangely normal, no awkwardness or post-nut clarity hitting either of you. Your body lay against his with all of you pressed up against him like that was exactly where you belonged. He could feel the beating of your heart, strong and steady in your slumber, whereas his remained erratic and fast. This was more than just a taste that he had had of you; it was the entire deal, and the knowledge of it all had his morals scattered and all over the place, because now that he knew what he knew, well.

Caleb wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

At the time, you had justified sleeping with Caleb as research, something you needed to do in order to get it out of your system. You had assumed, albeit foolishly, that once it was over, you’d be able to go back to normal and continue with your life.

But research was an activity that required constant revisiting. Most of it had to be repeated over and over, especially if it included gathering data from an experiment. There was always a control, and then variations of the experiment would be conducted to record the differences in the outcomes.

At least, that was what you were telling yourself right now as you straddled him, his cock buried inside you.

Truthfully, you didn’t know how this had happened. After that day, everything seemed to be normal, until he showed up at your dorm to help you study for a class he had also taken when he was in his sophomore year. One thing led to another, or rather, one heated touch later, you found yourself under him once again.

And then it happened again, and kept happening. Whispers of it being just for research mixed in with both of your moans became a melody you were more than used to. This was all for your book, after all. For the sake of accuracy and your integrity as a writer.

Definitely not because of how mindblowing sex with Caleb was.

And it absolutely was.

He had made you completely insatiable for him, and almost every time the two of you hung out in one of your dorms, it ended up with both of you in bed. Every other aspect of your friendship remained exactly the same, though, which left you considerably confused. He didn’t look at or treat you any differently, poking fun and driving you up the wall, staying his usual reliable self.

Caleb’s hand cradled the back of your head as he kissed you now, fingers entangled in your hair and pulling slightly. You moaned softly against his lips, grinding on him.

You were in one of his shirts, panties tugged to the side since he hadn’t had the patience to take them off, needing to be inside of you as quickly as possible. Despite his earlier hurriedness, the pace the two of you settled on now was almost teasing, slowly rocking against him as you lazily chased the delicious high that you had gotten so used to experiencing these past two weeks.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he muttered, more to himself than you, hand slipping under your shirt and cupping your breast, squeezing. When he caught you biting your lip, he tutted, letting go of your hair and using his thumb to release it from your teeth. “Ah, ah, don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself, pretty girl.”

“Too good,” you complained in that whiney, desperate tone he had gotten so addicted to. Pinching your nipple for good measure, he smirked up at you when you squealed.

Caleb quickly learned that he loved having you on top of him. Getting you all to himself like this was a privilege in itself, but fucking you while you wore his shirt? He was on cloud nine. He could feel himself throb in your sweet pussy that welcomed him so eagerly, in turn pulsing around him.

He cursed under his breath when you started to bounce, eager to get to the finish line with him. He sounded so good when he swore, you’d never understand it, just like how you wouldn’t get how he looked so pretty with a flush decorating his face and sex-mussed hair.

Gripping his shoulders, you tipped your head back, giving him access to your neck. He had taken to marking you up as and when he pleased, new hickeys surprising you every time you glanced in the mirror. Despite his tendency to leave them in places everyone could very easily spot them, you didn’t tell him to stop simply it just felt so good.

Everything with Caleb felt good, and not only did it feel good, but you felt completely safe. He was so attentive, doing the most to make sure you were never in any pain, often times focusing more on getting you off rather than himself.

He thrust up into you suddenly, his earlier impatience returning, and you cried out, falling into his chest. He held you, working you through it and dragging you closer and closer to release. One of your hands fell to his torso, tracing the hard lines of his abs and trailing downwards before your fingers found your clit and rubbed.

Shit. If having you ride him was good, being able to watch you touch yourself as you did was unbelievable. When you came, you came hard, and the feeling of it tipped him over the edge.

You were a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

You didn’t bother moving, clinging to him even tighter like you couldn’t bear to not be touching him in some way as you came down from your high. He smelled like sex, sweat, and that cologne of his that you loved. It was the reason you stole his clothes so much and why you were wearing his shirt even now.

Your first time with Caleb was the getaway drug, and now you were addicted to him, to having his hands caressing you all over and him whispering praises in your ear.

“Hey there,” He chuckled, rubbing your back. “All good?”

“Great even,” You mumbled, sitting up properly before finally lifting yourself off of him. You failed to register how jelly-like your legs felt, promptly losing your balance. He caught you before you fell, grinning.

“Can’t walk?” You could hear how smug he was without even having to look at him. It was then that you registered the burn in your thighs and huffed.

“Don’t sound so proud about it.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouted, leaving you to scoff as he helped you to your feet, following suit. “I’ll help you clean up. Do you wanna watch the new episode after?”

Ah yes. Of course, he’d start talking about anime after taking away your ability to stand. That had been the reason he had shown up at your dorm in the first place, but the moment he saw you wearing his shirt, it had quickly become an afterthought.

The whiplash you felt was indescribable, and you could only nod, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom. After a quick shower and change of clothes, the two of you settled down with your laptop like nothing had happened, your head resting on his shoulder as you focused on the show.

Neither of you bothered to talk about your redefined friendship despite having sex regularly. It was just….a new addition. A benefit that you were both taking advantage of, nothing more and nothing less.

But even as you reminded yourself of that now, you found yourself doubting it.

There was something to be said about formal events.

You enjoyed getting dolled up as much as the next girl, but that was where the fun ended. Having to sit through the event was boring and not the way you liked to spend your Friday evenings. You would have much preferred staying in and catching up on some much-needed sleep.

The editor of your university’s paper, Jenna, had organised an affair that was being held in one of the college halls. She had worked very hard on it, inviting several alumni who were all successful in the fields of journalism and writing back so that the current batch of students had the chance to make connections. It was open to the entire student body, but she had made it clear that everyone on the paper was obligated to attend.

Connections were what helped people get further in life. You were grateful for the opportunity to interact with industry professionals, but didn’t understand why she had insisted on keeping it a black tie affair. That probably had something to do with keeping up appearances.

You stood off to the side, sipping on your cranberry juice from a cup that was made for something much more refined. So far, you had spoken to a couple of the guests, but seeing that you had been here for over an hour already, your social battery was slowly dying out. The dress you wore was a black number, floor length, form-fitting and plain except for the slit that reached up to a little above your knee. Perfect for an event like this, not too much and on power with what everyone else was wearing.

Still, it was a little overstimulating. You guzzled down the rest of your juice and placed the empty glass down on one of the tables.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

You spun on your heels immediately at that voice, eyes widening and settling on the culprit who stood two, maybe three steps away from you.

“Caleb?” You asked in disbelief, taking in his presence. He was wearing a suit.

“The one and only,” he grinned, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Here to rescue you from your boredom.”

“What are you even doing here?” To say this wasn’t his scene would be an understatement. He didn’t like wearing the whole suit getup, much preferring casual clothing. Hell, Caleb hadn’t even attended his high school prom (though when you asked why, he would never give you a straight answer), opting to spend the night in with you instead.

He looked unfairly good. The collar of his shirt hid those lovely collarbones of his and reminded you of how you had bit down on them the other day, the bottom of it tucked into black slacks. He had even worn dress shoes, instead of the sneakers he so loved and a tie around his neck. The entire getup.

“I literally just told you why. To get you out of here. Are you hard of hearing now?”

You returned his jibe with an exasperated sound. “I meant here, at this thing.”

“Oh. Well, you did mention it was open to anyone yesterday,” he shrugged, grabbing a glass of juice and sipping on it. “So that editor of yours technically can’t complain about me being here.”

That was true. Still, you found yourself bewildered as you stared at him. He was here. For some reason, even though he was allowed to be here, it didn’t make sense to you. You pressed your lips together and cocked your head to the side, studying him.

“So you dressed up and came here.…only to convince me to leave?” The notion sounded strange even to you. Why on earth would he do that? He finished up his drink and put it down next to your empty glass, taking a step closer to you. The simple movement had butterflies erupt in the pits of your stomach.

What the hell?

“Stop thinking so much. Do you want to stay?”

You considered it. “Not really, no.”

“Do you enjoy arguing with me for no reason, woman?” he muttered dryly under his breath, his eyes catching on something over your head. “On second thought, I think you should stay a little longer.”

Now you were just plain confused. One moment he was talking about saving you from boredom, and the next he was insisting you stay? Before you could undoubtedly start another argument just to spite him, he took you by your shoulders and spun you around, pointing in a certain direction. When you figured out what, or rather, who he was gesturing to, you couldn’t hide your gasp.

“Isn’t that the author you like?”

You could only nod dumbly. “Raymond.” Last year, you had a phase where you only read his books day in and day out, absorbing the stories he spun like a sponge. His books were the reason you had decided to start writing your own in the first place, inspired by his storytelling skills.

Caleb nudged your side gently, “Go.”

“How–” you cut yourself off, looking up at him. “How do you even remember that?” You weren’t sure why this entire interaction with him was throwing you off so much, but you felt completely unbalanced. You hadn’t spoken about Raymond or his work in a long time, so how did he know? He shrugged noncommittally.

“I know you.” He said it so plainly, like it was something trivial and basic, but his eyes bored into yours.

Had Caleb always looked at you with such quiet intensity?

He nudged your side gently, reminding you to move. Forcing yourself out of your stupor, you promised him you wouldn’t take too much time and walked over, buzzing with excitement.

The conversation itself wasn’t long, but it was insightful. He answered all your questions about the industry, and you even had the chance to share for appreciation for Raymond's work as well as ask him questions that you had about his novels. You gave him your utmost attention when he gave you advice, but when he started talking about his characters, your eyes and mind wandered.

Back to your best friend, who was waiting for you on the other end of the hall, leaning against one of the walls and scrolling through his phone. He didn’t give a flying fuck about this event, but had still come here for your sake, even when you hadn’t asked him to. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, and flashing you a small smile.

Oh.

You looked away and back at Raymond, nodding politely and tuning yourself back into the conversation. Internally, however, you were freaking out. Something was very wrong; that was the only reason you could conjure up at the moment for what was happening to you. How else could you explain the sudden sweatiness of your palms, or the odd, fluttery feeling in your stomach? Maybe it was the excitement you felt from meeting the author you loved so much, but even as you considered this possibility, you knew it wasn’t the answer you were looking for.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

This could not be happening. You plastered a smile on your face as you tried to pay attention to whatever Raymond was talking about, but the damage was done. Your brain had never been one to let go of a single thought you had, especially ones that had to do with Caleb. He had a hold on you that no one else did, and why was that?

Because you liked Caleb.

The horrifying realisation hit you, startling you out of your rapidly spiralling thought process. Blinking, you realised Raymond was done speaking.

“Thank you so much for your time,” You said, trying not to sound as troubled as you felt. The author smiled at you before turning to another student.

Swallowing the newfound lump in your throat, you turned around and walked back to Caleb. This was bad. Having sex with him was already vaguely immoral and probably something that shouldn’t have happened– and shouldn’t keep happening like it did– but having feelings for him? That was out of the question.

“Good talk?” He asked, slipping his phone into his pocket. The genuine interest he had in your excitement made the entire situation worse. Why were you noticing all this now, of all times? It wasn’t like he had suddenly turned into someone considerate. He had always been this way; it was written into his DNA.

You realised he had even tried to tame his hair for today. “It was great.”

“I’m glad. Now I can steal you away from this place.” His eyes were lit up with mischief, just like they did when the two of you were younger and he did something he wasn’t supposed to. Ever the rebel, this one.

You felt a little guilty. All this effort for you? It seemed completely useless. “Okay, but Caleb, seriously, you didn’t have to do this.”

He frowned. “Didn’t have to do what?”

“This!” You waved in his general direction and then gestured around. “I mean, you don’t even like wearing a suit, but here you are. It’s not like it's compulsory for you like it is for me. You could be doing anything else.” You were rambling, you knew, but it was hard to stop. He rolled his eyes.

“Has that stopped me before?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“I show up to your newsroom even though I’m sure Jenna wants to castrate me for breaking the rules so much.” He raised an eyebrow. “I attended that lecture of yours when you had a presentation. You know I’m here because I want to be.” You knew he said stuff like this all the time, you always were the recipient of his support. This was normal.

But it didn’t feel normal. For fucks sake, this was the boy you had grown up with. He had seen you fall off your bike, fail tests and puke your guts out when drunk. In each of those situations, he had also been the one to pick you up and bandage your wounds, help you study and hold your hair back for you.

Did he think it was an obligation now?

“You….you shouldn’t feel like you have to do that.” You said slowly, but he didn’t let you continue.

“Oh, please. Everyone knows that where you go, I go too.” He flicked your forehead, immediately receiving a glare in return. “We’re like…….” He stopped for a moment, eyebrows furrowing and lips pursing like they always did when he was thinking hard about something. Then he snapped his fingers. “We’re like those yoghurt-granola snack packs!”

You stared at him blankly. “What?”

“You know.” He decided to explain his stupid analogy, as if your head wasn’t muddled enough. “Those things you can buy at the grocery store. The small yoghurt tubs that have a container filled with granola on top of them? Like, they’re both okay separately, but much better when together. People buy those packs for a reason.” He slipped his phone back into his pockets and beamed at you. “We’re like that.”

Oh my god. That barely made any sense. You weren’t sure if you were mortified because of that terrible explanation or because it hadn’t put a damper on your newfound feelings for him. “You’re such a fucking dork.”

He feigned offence, holding his hand over his heart. “Excuse me? You mean cute, right?”

Right. Wait, no, you didn’t. Ugh. “I thinkx ridiculous.”

“Are you coming with me or not, Pips?”

“But Jenna insisted-”

He rubbed a hand over his face in annoyance before fixing you with a droll look. “Would you rather be here or be with me?”

Be with you.

You ignored the way your stomach flipped. You didn’t have the time or the mental stability to process everything that was happening to you right now. The logical part of your brain swooped in, telling you that you were just confused because of the sex. Yes, that was it. You did not have feelings for Caleb Xia.

Sighing, you relented. “You.” Saying that didn’t mean anything, after all. Nothing about the two of you meant anything, so there was no reason for you to be freaking out, even if it sounded like you had just confessed. A wide grin made a show on his face when he realised he had won, and he tilted his head towards the exit.

“Finally. Wanna get out of here?”

“Just to be clear, this is not what I meant when I asked if you wanted to get out of there.”

You huffed out a soft laugh, fingers curling around his tie as you tugged him closer. “No? Could have sworn you planned for us to end up in a janitor's closet.”

Caleb bit back a laugh of his own, knowing that making too much noise would get both of you in trouble. After leaving the event, somehow, his guiding hand on your hip had turned into the two of you making out in the hallway. You blamed the mess that your head was in for not realising what a bad idea that was immediately, but once you did, you did the most responsible thing you could think of.

And dragged him into the janitor's closet that was close by.

Naturally.

He braced a hand over your head on the cabinet that you were leaning against, essentially caging you in as he dipped his head to kiss you again. “Pretty sure that was you’re doing.”

“Excuse me? You’re the one who kissed me first!” You protested against his mouth, but could hardly complain when he kissed you like it was a relief to do so. Honestly, he was probably the best kisser you had ever experienced.

That must have been the reason for your spiralling thoughts. That and the amazing sex that you were so weak to.

Yep. That’s all. Anyone could be susceptible to such things.

“Can you blame me? Have you seen yourself in this dress?” His free hand slipped into the slit at your knee, slowly dragging the rest of the dress up until it was bunched up around your waist. “You’re stunning.”

He couldn’t stop kissing you. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed you out there like he had the right to, because he was well aware of the unspoken rules of this arrangement, but he couldn’t help it. If getting too comfortable with whatever you had going on with him was a crime, a sin, then he was a criminal of the highest order. The worst part? He didn’t feel a shred of guilt.

But you were wearing that fucking cherry lip gloss, and god knnows he had waited long enough to taste it.

Warmth spread over your chest first before it rushed to the apex between your legs. The control he seemed to have over your body was truly astounding. In his hands, you were putty.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” You whispered back, loosening the knot of his tie and pulling it off completely, dropping it to the side. “This suits you.”

His lips twitched. “The suit suits me?”

“Shut up and kiss me, loser.”

He complied, grinning against your mouth as he pulled you into another earth-shattering kiss that did positively nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Stubbornly, you pushed down the feelings bubbling around the confines of your heart, refusing to give them any attention if you could help it.

You gripped the front of his suit jacket, helping him peel it off his shoulders and letting it join his tie on the floor. Without warning, he pressed a knee in between your legs, and you nearly melted against him.

Sex was great. Sex with him was phenomenal. This was just the lust getting to you.

Caleb gripped the leg that your slit now exposed and lifted it, propping it up against his waist. He trailed his fingers against your inner thigh, his touch feather-light yet scorching at the same time. When his index and middle finger pressed against your clothed cunt, you were glad for the hot he had on you, pressed up against the cabinet, because you would have surely buckled if not.

“Wow,” he mumbled amusedly, pushing your panties to the side and teasing your wetness. “You really like the suit, huh?”

The fact that this type of interaction was now commonplace should have been the first sign that things had gone too far.

Usually, you couldn’t think straight when he touched you like this, but today it was all a mix of feeling way too much and dangerous, fleeting thoughts that made you want to tear your hair out.

“Maybe,” You peppered kisses along the column of his throat, determined to get out of your head and focus only on how good he could make you feel. Pleasure and person were entirely separate entities, and you would make sure it stayed that way.

“Suit kink.”

“Never say that again.”

He only smirked, plunging his fingers into you. All you could do was cry out as you gripped the front of his shirt, momentarily forgetting that you were supposed to be quiet. Quickly, his palm covered your mouth, muffling any further sounds you could make. “Can’t have you being loud here, princess. What if someone catches us?”

The way you practically gushed the moment he suggested someone catch you in such a compromising position was downright embarrassing. Raising an eyebrow, he leaned even lower and whispered. “Oh? You like that?”

You whined against his hand, cheeks flushing furiously. You began fiddling with the top buttons of his shirt, and he chuckled lowly.

“For someone who likes my suit so much, you sure are trying to get rid of it quickly.”

“For someone who was dying to kiss me two minutes ago, you talk too much.” You rocked your hips against his hand even as you sassed him back. He moved his hand from your mouth into your hair, carding it through gently, tugging slightly to tilt your head back for him so he could kiss you again, swallowing every sound you made.

No one could sue you for being attracted to a hot man. That was just biology.

You could feel the familiar tightening of your core, signalling your impending crash. You broke away from the kiss, licked your lips and palmed him over his pants, earning a hiss of pleasure in return.

“Don’t– don’t do that,” He choked out, and you smirked triumphantly, refusing to relent on your movements. Batting your eyelashes, you stared up at him through them in faux innocence, unaware that it affected him so much more than you thought.

“Just fuck me already.” You whined, half out of desperation for him and party because now you needed him to fuck you to prove to yourself that this was just sex. To be able to brush away all the compliments he dropped that seemed to go straight to your head, to get the intoxicaing fucking way he kissed you out of your head and away from further dissection. To stop the slow-burning feeling of yearning that was growing inside of you for the boy you had grown up with.

Because you couldn’t possibly have feelings for him. You shouldn’t.

“Fuck, okay,” He slipped his fingers out of you and unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock. You would never get used to the sight of it, precum already leaking out of the tip; the image itself sending shivers down your spine in anticipation of him.

He pressed back against you, grinding it against your fluttering pussy, going right back to making out with you. It was like he was devouring you whole, claiming every part of you like it had always belonged to him. You could feel yourself get carried away again, forgetting that this was just something he and you did now.

And then he froze.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I don’t have a condom.”

You were too far gone to even care anymore. Cupping his face, you pulled him into another messy kiss, beyond delighted when he moaned, still rubbing his length through your slick folds with a want that rivalled your own. “Put it in.”

Caleb gritted his teeth. “Pips, thats–”

“I’m on birth control,” you kissed his jaw. “And I trust you. I’ve always trusted you.”

That was undeniably the truth. He was the one person in the world that you didn’t have to think twice about when it came to anything, no matter what the situation. He blinked down at you, pupils blown wide with desire but somehow still so focused on you, holding your sides so gently as he hesitated, silently dealing with the conflict in his head.

“I…..are you sure?”

Oh, this sweet, considerate boy. How could you not love him? The thought was instantly forced to be a passing one as you push it away, refusing to acknowledge it.

“Caleb, if you don’t stick your dick inside of me right now, I will cut it off.” The threat earned you a winded chuckle from his end, the strain in his face from holding back so painfully evident. Realising he needed another push, you looked into his eyes, bucking your hips against him and licking your lips as you purred. “Now, fuck me.”

There was a reason you phrased it like that. Crude and so filthy, the words set out a challenge for him. If there was one thing you knew about Caleb, it was that he could never back down from a challenge. His eyes darkened as he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them together above your head with one hand, positioning his cock at your entrance.

Without another warning, he slammed into you, once again covering your mouth to soften the obscenely loud broken moan that left you. He pressed his fingers against your lips, smirking mischievously.

“This is what you wanted, hmm?” He groaned in your ear as he fucked you hard, making it increasingly difficult for you to stay silent. You knew he was doing it on purpose, remembering how he had briefly confessed that he liked it when you were vocal, but here? Here it was risky and stupid, and you couldn’t believe how into it you were.

“Yes,” You gasped, biting his hand at a particularly hard thrust, doing your utmost best to keep all your noises to a minimum. He was just so good, and the feeling of him bare inside of you was almost too much for you.

“God baby, you feel incredible,” he panted, never relenting on his pace for even a second. His breathing was heavy in your ear, almost pained, along with soft grunts that only succeeded in making you even wetter.

“So b-big,” you could only whimper, too caught up in it all to speak properly.

He had well and truly ruined you for anyone else. Your heart and mind were at war with each other, but your body was perfectly content with how he held you like this. With nothing between you, he fucked you raw, and it felt so much more intimate than you thought it would have. You could feel everything, hyperaware of every touch and kiss and overwhelming drag of his cock in your sobbing cunt.

For a moment, you almost wished it wasn’t this good. If only you had never succumbed to your desires that day, maybe you wouldn’t have found yourself in this position, fighting so desperately against feelings that felt so wrong and right at the same time. All this was supposed to have been a temporary fix, a means to an end. Not the start of something you could never see through.

When both of you came, it was intense and devastating, holding onto each other like nothing else mattered. You could feel him fill you up with his cum and as you went limp, one last terrifying realisation making itself known to you.

It wasn’t just sex.

A shattered breath escaped you at the revelation, and you shut your eyes, trying to reason with yourself one last time, but to no avail. Caleb surrounded you completely, holding you up upright with so much care, so deliberately, that it made total sense why you felt this way. With unending affection, he pulled you against him and kissed the crown of your head.

“Thats my girl.”

Except you weren’t. And it would be better for everyone if you remembered that.

You were writing.

It had been so long since you had been able to write like this, but the ability had come rushing back to you all of a sudden. Your fingers flew across your keyboard as you steadily typed, focused and satisfied at the work you were producing for the first time in months.

It was two in the morning when you finally snapped out of your concentrated state, yawning as you shut your laptop. Stretching, you quietly padded to your bathroom to get ready for the night and go to bed. You couldn’t believe you had written almost half of the sex scene when even the prospect of starting it had sounded so unachievable not too long ago.

Courtesy of Caleb, you had plenty of material to pull from.

You splashed water on your face, hoping the cool temperature of it would help you stop thinking about him. To say you were frustrated with your feelings was an understatement; you outright despised them.

This was your fault, you knew damn well it was. If you were going to get a fuckbuddy, it should have been someone who you weren’t so close to, someone you had no personal connections with. Anyone but the best friend you've had since you were seven years old, who you knew like the back of your hand, who knew you like it was second nature to do so.

Gripping the sides of the sink, you shut your eyes, grounding yourself to the moment. Part of you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. How on earth did you let yourself get in such a predicament?

You needed it to stop. For these confusing feelings to leave before things got even more complicated than they already were. Somehow, you needed to forget about them.

But how could you possibly do that? How were you supposed to forget the deliberate way he kissed you, or how good he made you feel when he looked at you that way? How were you supposed to get the scent of his cologne out of your sheets and closet, or pretend like you didn’t know what it was like to be touched by him?

How on earth were you supposed to get over being in love with him?

You didn’t even notice him walking in.

Writing for your book again meant that you had fallen behind quite a bit when it came to the work you had due for the paper. As a result, you had to stay behind and work late on the articles you had to present to Jenna, stuck at your desk in the newsroom when it was almost nine-thirty at night.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Your eyes flickered up to find Caleb standing in front of your desk, one hand stuffed in his pockets and the other holding a bag of takeout from a diner that both of you liked. He gave you a soft, knowing smile that made your mouth go dry.

“Hey,” you straightened up in your seat, knowing that your posture tended to get worse the longer you wrote for. “You were looking for me?”

“Not exactly.” He grabbed a chair and parked it next to yours, sitting down. “I just figured you’d be working and forget to have dinner.”

“Oh.”

He was right, and you would have been embarrassed if this hadn’t happened before. Wordlessly, he began unpacking the takeout he had gotten. “Take a break for ten minutes and eat, okay?”

This was just like him. Knowing exactly when you needed to be taken care of while being well aware you could do just fine by yourself. You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched him, apprehensively nodding slowly.

“Okay.”

You grabbed a fry and began to chew, turning to face him and away from the computer. He looked the same as always, unkempt hair and all. It was like he knew you were tired and a little out of it today without you even having to tell him, falling into a comfortable silence as he ate with you.

There wasn’t another soul in this world that knew you so intimately. In the past, this wouldn’t have scared you, because you were so used to him and the ways he fit into your life so perfectly. Now, it frightened you to no end, reminding you of how much you had to lose when it came to Caleb. He was the most precious person in your life, which made it so much easier to fear losing him.

If there were rules when it came to having a best friend, you were certain you had broken all of them. Number one: Don’t sleep with your best friend. Already off to a rough start with that one, it seemed, but there was nothing you could do about it anymore. Number two: Don’t fall for your best friend. You doubted you even needed to go over the rest of the rules. Breaking those two had caused you enough damage.

Finishing up his food, he took a sip of his soda, noticing you were watching him intently. For the first time in a long time, he couldn’t quite decipher the look in your eyes. It almost felt as if you were hiding it from him on purpose.

He tilted the soda cup to you, silently asking if you wanted some of his. You leaned closer and took the straw in your mouth, taking a couple of sips before looking away.

Something was off. “Is everything okay?”

You pressed your lips together and gave him a half smile. “Yeah, everything's fine.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes at you, reaching out and propping a finger under your chin, lifting your face so you were forced to look at him.

“Pipsqueak,” He mumbled, dropping his gaze to your mouth for a split second, but it was enough to make you feel like you were set on fire. Like you were made of porcelain, he swiped his thumb next to your lower lip, rubbing away a stray crumb that had stuck there from your food. Then he looked at your mouth again, subconsciously leaning towards you as if he was about to kiss you.

Immediately, you jerked out of his touch. Guilt ate away at you when you noticed how he reacted to this, the flash of hurt that passed over his face as he frowned. As much as you hated being the cause of it, the way he was looking at you has started to inexplicably hurt. You were unable to stop the tenderness that unfolded in your chest anymore. It was potent, too real to fight against.

“We should stop.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could think about them any further, inciting confusion. He retracted his hand, the corners of his furrowed eyebrows tilting upwards. “Dinner? Because we’re pretty much done with that anyway.”

You could have taken advantage of his confusion and put this conversation off for a while, but you knew that letting this go on any longer would end up being torturous.

“No, Caleb,” You looked away, trying to ignore the way your throat seemed to close in on itself. “I’m not talking about dinner.”

“Then what are you talking about?” His voice took on that impossibly soft tone it did when he was trying to understand how you were feeling to properly help or sympathise with you. It was something he did when you were younger and got hurt, and he wanted to make sure you knew you weren’t dealing with it alone.

Sucking in a breath of air, you looked down at your hands in your lap, playing with your fingers. “I think we should stop having sex.”

A beat passed. You could feel the weight of his stare on you. “Okay.”

You weren’t sure where to go from there, your heart pounding within your ribcage like it was trying to escape. The light from your computer felt too harsh and the ticking of the clock hands was unnaturally loud in the stiff silence that settled over the two of you. Clearing his throat, he spoke again.

“Did…Did I do something?”

“No,” the caution yet dejected way he said it made you blurt that out quickly, refusing to let him think something was completely wrong. “You didn’t. At all. It’s just…..” You trailed off, biting your tongue and regretting bringing this up already. “I….I wrote the scene.”

“The scene?”

“The sex scene. In my book.” The awkwardness in your cadence is foreign to your ears and his. You had never been so apprehensive around him because you had never had a reason to. This was a first you despised vehemently, scorning the way you had to phrase everything so delicately, as if you didn’t, the damage caused would be irreparable.

“Right.” Now he had an unreadable look in his eyes too, matching yours.

“Right,” you echoed softly. “So there's no reason for anymore…...research.” Because research had spiralled into forgetting your regular roles when it came to each other. Research had made you aware of feelings that had been dormant your entire life and should have stayed that way.

In an ironic twist of fate, you had literally fucked around and found out.

“I see.”

You didn’t know what possessed you to keep talking when it was so obvious that both him and you wanted nothing more than to move on from this conversation. You risked a glance at him to find him aimlessly tracing the edge of his soda cup, eyes trained on the straw. “So we can go back to being just friends. Regular friends.”

The clarification made you wince. When his eyes met yours again, you were surprised to find something different in the way he looked at you– those dark purple depths swirling with an intensity that superseded their usual levels, startling you.

“We’ll always be friends, Y/n.”

Caleb didn’t call you pipsqueak. A minute detail that shouldn’t have shaken you at all, and yet here you were stuck on it in spite of the fact that he had just agreed to being friends again. Or rather, the normal definition of friends, because you weren’t ever anything more than that. You swallowed, turning back to your computer.

“Okay. I should get back to working on this article.”

Your dismissal of him was quiet but obvious. The air had started to get suffocating and you needed as much space from him as you could get until you sorted out the mess in your head, one that was your cross to bear. Your fault.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him nod and get to his feet, turning to leave, but hesitating for just a moment.

It was only when he exited the newsroom that you realised it wasn’t any easier to breathe without him there. It felt even harder now, like someone had their foot over your chest and was putting all their weight on it, letting gravity do the rest of the work. You pushed yourself away from your desk, the wheels under your chair smoothly rolling away until the back of it hit the wall behind you.

Even the impact of that wasn’t enough to shock you out of your misery. Surely, love wasn’t supposed to feel as cruel as it did right now, like claws sinking into your skin and making you bleed. It shouldn’t have felt wrong, but you knew that it was. Perhaps this was retribution for allowing yourself to indulge in something that was so clearly off-limits to you.

A familiar pressure built up behind your eyes as you turned resentful. The sting of your sorrow manifested as tears welled up and caught in your lower lashes. You shut your eyes, but not before those tears slid down your face, cementing the bitter, indisputable reality of your heartbreak.

Caleb stayed away.

He had known damn well that whatever was between the two of you wasn’t forever. It wasn’t even real, solely for the sake of your writing and the book you were so proud of. It was his fault for getting caught up in it all and expecting you to never call it off, to stay in that limbo with him forever.

Saying no to you was something he wasn't capable of. Not when he was ten and you were eight, and you wanted the last piece of cake even though it was his favourite flavour. Not when he was fifteen and you used to beg him to let you wear his shirts because you liked how oversized they were on you. Not when you would give him puppy eyes and sweetly ask him to cook those braised chicken wings you loved so much.

And not when you needed help with writing about sex.

Even if it went against all his morals and everything he had forced himself to believe for the past twelve years he had known you. He had held himself together around you for as long as he could remember, hands to himself and thoughts strictly friendly. Caleb was used to the best friend role. He was good at playing it, even when the script pained him to recite, he did so anyway with a smile on his face.

Because smiling back at him was you. It was always you, with your bright eyes and angelic laughter.

Caleb had accepted this role when he was only nine years old and had stuck to it ever since. He let it consume him, living in ignorant bliss as he silenced the pleas of his heart and what it wanted, no, begged for.

How was he supposed to know where to go from here? The script had deviated too much for him to return to its safety. He knew how your lip gloss tasted, sweet and inviting and maddening, just like everything else about you.

So he stayed away from you and your cherry lip gloss, hoping the marks it had left all over him would fade.

It had been almost two weeks since Caleb last set foot in the newsroom.

Jenna was overjoyed and Tara was suspicious. The latter asked you where your ‘boyfriend’ was, to which you refused to look at her as you muttered the reminder: he’s not my boyfriend. It felt like you were reminding yourself more than her, lacking any of your usual annoyance.

You supposed this was your fault as well. It wasn’t like you had made any effort to reach out either, stuck in your pathetic little cycle of self-pity and fear. You felt his absence, though, cutting deep into you and leaving you with a Caleb-sized hole in your life. The last time you experienced something like this was when he left for university for the first time and you were finishing up your senior year, suddenly having to deal with not having him around for months on end.

At least he was calling you back then, and when you joined him at university, it never happened again. You hadn’t realised what a big part of your life he was until he was missing from it.

God, you missed him.

You missed that stupid, smug chuckle of his when he knew you were getting riled up because of something he said, and his terrible sense of humour. The smirk on his face when you were losing an argument, and how he’d stick his tongue out when he was concentrating on something. Hell, you missed the sound of his voice and the comfort it brought you.

After you finished your work for the day, you walked out of the newsroom and down the hallways of the university building. The cool evening air swept around you, making you think of one of Caleb's jackets that was still in your dorm from the last time he had been, draped over your desk chair. You almost wished you had it with you right now.

Your feet carried you to the dining hall, reminding you of your need to eat through the wall of your troubled thoughts. It was not so much hunger as it was a necessity. Your appetite had been less than robust these past few days, your emotions weighing you down in more ways than one. You didn’t have him to remind you to eat or sleep, or run like a normal human being.

Grabbing an apple to appease your stomach, you bit into it and looked around, mentally going over everything else you had to do that day. Start an essay you had due the next week, beg the members of your group to do their parts of the presentation that was worth a whopping thirty percent of your grade and polish the last scene you had written for your book.

It turned out that your turbulent emotional state had translated into you being more productive than ever, throwing yourself into your studies and writing like you had never before. Anything to avoid thinking about him and what you felt. An unhealthy coping mechanism for sure, but it worked for you.

Kind of.

Unable to stomach anything else, you tossed the core of the apple into a nearby dustbin and left the dining hall, eager to make it back to your room. You hadn’t slept very well lately, and you wanted to get all your work out of the way before crashing. Sleeping, you discovered, was another excellent course of action to take when you wanted to avoid facing something, and at least it wasn’t downright unhealthy. The dark circles under your eyes would certainly thank you.

When you turned the corner, he was there.

Caleb stood there, just a few paces away from you in all his six-two glory. His back was turned to you, but you knew it was him, deep in conversation with his friend, Gideon. You were unable to do anything but stare, your pulse picking up in speed at the sight of him. You wondered if the chasm he had created between the two of you had affected him as much as it had you.

When he bid farewell to Gideon and turned, you panicked. When he saw you, you remained rooted to the spot, watching as his steps faltered and came to a stop. He looked almost as tired as you felt, dawdling briefly before speaking.

“Hey.”

Hey. Hey? Was that all he could say after refusing to look your way for over a week? Your apprehension flared up into anger, and you took three furious steps towards him, your docile stare melting into a glare.

“You sure talk a lot of shit about keeping you informed for someone who has been avoiding me.”

He winced. “I wasn’t….avoiding you.”

“Oh really? Could have fooled me.” You scowled at him as you took another step forward. You were pissed, and rightly so, but it stemmed more from how hurt you felt rather than any genuine anger.

Caleb didn’t bother to meet your eyes, opting to look off to the side instead. That stung a little more than you cared to admit. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Have you eaten yet?’ Barely five minutes around you, and he had already jumped into trying to take care of you. It was so infuriatingly like him.

Every time he didn’t want to face something, he would deflect and redirect the conversation. Your years together had taught you well, making it impossible for him to sidestep you even if he tried. You could tell he was avoiding you even when you were right in front of him.

“Stop changing the subject.”

You watched as his jaw tightened and relaxed, something he did when he was conflicted. All his tells were so laughably obvious to you, and yet you couldn’t make heads or tails of how he was acting right now, so forcibly distant and detached, like being close to you was painful. Your eyes burned.

“Do you hate me?” You asked, hating how your voice suddenly sounded so feeble. His eyes snapped back to yours, wide and defiant.

“I could never hate you.” The finality in the way he said it told you he was telling the truth, and yet, you couldn’t help but fall victim to the doubt creeping into your mind. He was looking right at you now– except he wasn’t really. It was more like he was looking through you.

“Then…then why?” You whispered, taking another tentative step forward. The space that both of you created, consciously or not, was unbearable. You just wanted things to go back to normal, was that so much to ask for?

“I don’t hate you. You just don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand!” You threw your hands up in the air in exasperation, wondering what the hell you had to do to make this conversation go somewhere, because right now it just felt like you were running in circles. “Caleb, please, just tell me why you’re avoiding me, because you are.”

He knew he was and hadn’t a single excuse, other than the reason he swore you never burdened you with. You were looking at him so pleadingly, grasping at straws to figure him out, but for the first time in his life, he found himself unable to give you an answer. Instead, his throat constricted, his anxiety keeping him silent.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Your face crumbled, and upon witnessing it, so did his heart. Your lower lip trembled like a leaf on a windy day, and you bit down on it to stop it from doing so, doing your best to stay composed. Running a hand through your hair, you let out a shaky sigh. “I knew it, I should have never– we shouldn’t have slept together. That should have never happened and now everything is fucked up, and its all because of me.”

Yes. No. The answer wasn’t as straightforward as he needed it to be, and it paralysed him. The anguish you felt was on display for him and anyone who happened to walk by you to see, plain as day, as it twisted your features. It felt as if he had been stabbed in the gut when you backed away from him.

Turning away, you walked off. You had ruined things, you were sure of it, and it killed you. Once again, you let the rift between him and you grow with every step you took to escape the crash you had been responsible for.

A hand on your wrist. You gasped as he caught you, spinning you around and forcing you to face him once again.

Caleb had followed you into the gardens.

“Do you regret it?”

The question cut through you, and you gaped at him. The fervour you were so used to seeing in him suddenly returned, burning brightly in his eyes as he pinned you in place with them, his grip on your wrist never letting up. Question for question, with neither of you getting the answers you wanted.

You scoffed, rapidly blinking away the tears that you felt coming on. “If it's the reason things are weird between us, then yes! I do regret it. I need my best friend, Caleb. I need you.”

How could you not need him? He was your constant, the one person who had been by your side through thick and thin. You needed him in your life, by your side, in whatever way you were allowed to, even if it wasn’t what you truly wanted anymore.

He let go of your wrist. “I can’t do it.”

Your biggest fear was coming true right in front of your very eyes, and you hadn’t the faintest idea of how to stop it. It was taking form, bleeding into existence. You were losing him.

“You can’t do what?”

“I can’t be your friend. I just can’t.” He shook his head, shutting his eyes like he couldn’t bear to look at you.

Your voice comes out weak. Small. “But you said we’ll always be friends.”

“Well, I lied, okay! I can’t be your friend, not when–” He sucked in a breath, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to reign himself in, stopping his outburst before it could happen. It wasn’t fair to you, none of this was, but he was at his breaking point. “I could do it before, but not anymore.”

“Why?” You whispered, those tears you had so valiantly fought off surging back. Once again, you felt like you had been trampled on, pinned down by a merciless gravity that had no regard for your need to breathe. You weren’t sure there was a reason to fight against it anymore.

He looked up at the darkening sky, deflating. Staying away from you hadn’t made it any better– if anything, it had only made it worse, his yearning to be beside you bubbling to an all-time high. There wasn’t a point in hiding anymore, not when it was turning out to be detrimental rather than soothing.

“Because,” he paused, peering up at the cloudy sky. He couldn’t see the stars. “I can’t go back to being your friend when I’ve tasted you. How am I supposed to act like I’ve never kissed you when I’ve had you in my bed? To pretend like I don’t know how it feels to have you like that? God, Y/n, I can’t do it.

Caleb, whom you had viewed as strong and untouchable all your life. Caleb, whom you had endlessly looked up to, sounded almost tortured, like it pained him to even have to tell you this.

“What are you saying?”

You hoped you didn’t look as terrified as you sounded. It felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from beneath you, but the ground underneath it was falling apart too, leaving you to stumble around and try to find your footing amidst the cracks that remained. If you fell now, you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to get up.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? You had already fallen, and hard.

Caleb was stripped of his usual self-assuredness and confident smile. He was laid bare there in front of you, fixing you with a look that was so pained it tore through you.

“I’m in love with you.”

The confession ripped through you, although you didn’t register it at first. Those five words felt so improbable to have been said by him to you of all people that the only thing you could feel was disbelief. It just didn’t make sense. Why would something you longed to hear so badly be said with such sadness?

He mistook your stunned silence for aversion. He should have stopped there, given up and walked away, but now that he had finally, finally let it out, it was hard to stop. It was like a dam had broken within him; everything he had ever kept to himself when it came to you rushed out all at once.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n,” he said again, scoffing slightly at himself. No nicknames, just your name spoken in that reverent tone, like you were a divine being he was a devout follower of. “And it kills me because I know you’ll never see me as anything more than a best friend. You’ve made that very clear, and I never want to overstep, so I stayed away from you.”

“Caleb–”

He didn’t let you cut in. “I could do it when I didn’t know what it felt like to have you as something more than friends. The moment we crossed that line, it was all over for me. I would be your friend until I died if I didn’t know.” His hands were shaking, but they stayed by his sides, fingers curled into frustrated fists as he rambled.

“I–”

“But I can’t, Pips. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be your best friend when I’ve loved you my entire life.” And you’re falling all over again, gravity pulling you down, down, down as something unfurled in your chest. “So please just–”

“Goddamnit Caleb, would you just shut up for one fucking minute!?”

You hadn’t meant to snap, but he was seriously to piss you off, going on and on without giving you the chance to speak your mind. Immediately, he clamped his mouth shut, preparing himself for the inevitable rejection he had imagined too many times to count in his head. You, on the other hand, thought you were going to faint, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened. It was everything you had convinced yourself was impossible.

And yet…

You kept your eyes locked onto his as you closed the distance between the two of you, so close now that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, combating the chill in the evening air. Swallowing, you asked.

“You’re in love with me?”

He clenched his jaw and nodded. He knew what the consequences were, he was ready for them. It was about time he faced the truth anyway.

What he didn’t expect was for you to start laughing.

You clamped a hand over your mouth as incredulous laughter left you, eyes practically sparkling. Oddly enough, it sounded a little watery, like you were crying at the same time.

And then he realised you were, in fact, crying, tears streaming down your face. Alarmed, he stepped forward and cupped your face, instinctively wiping them away with the pads of his thumbs. This did nothing to dampen your hysterical laughter as you leaned into his touch.

“What the fuck?” He muttered, concern overtaking his previous, heartsick expression. “Are you dying or something?”

“Or something,” you managed to get out, gripping his arms, “We’re so stupid.”

“That…..okay, I’m officially confused. And a little scared.”

“Caleb,” you whispered once you stopped giggling, lethally soft. You looked up at him adoringly, eyes shining and tinged slightly red from your tears. “I’m in love with you, too.”

He froze, mouth falling open. He didn’t have to say anything, though, because honestly, he had said enough. It was your turn now.

You leaned further into his touch, nuzzling your cheek against his palm. “I think I’ve loved you for a long time, but I only realised after….after everything that happened between us.” You flushed, trying to word it as delicately as possible. “And I drove myself crazy because I thought you’d never see me that way–”

“I’ve always seen you that way.” He breathed out, those captivating eyes of his trained on you in wonder. Butterflies came to life in your stomach.

“– So I called it off. I said we needed to stop because I was so scared I’d lose you.”

By the time you finished, you were both staring at each other wide-eyed. His grip on you tightened, one hand falling to your waist as he tugged you closer.

“You love me?”

“I love you,” you nodded. “It just took me a while to figure it out.”

“Pipsqueak.” You had never been more grateful than you were right then to hear that stupid petname. “Oh my god, we are stupid.”

Without another word, Caleb pulled you into a kiss. You reciprocated instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you smiled against his lips, unable to contain yourself anymore. He kissed you like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do, holding you like you were precious, which to him, you undoubtedly were. It was your first proper kiss with him without any pretence or excuse surrounding it, and you couldn’t have asked for more.

Chuckling when you dissolved into more giddy giggles, he wiped away any stray tears from your face and rested his forehead against yours. After all these years waiting and hoping that you’d feel the same way, he knew he’d never let you go now.

“I love you, too.” It was a relief to say out loud and to your face, coming out of hiding and letting the truth of his feelings sit out in the light. You pecked his lips again and hugged him, revelling in his warmth and the delight of your feelings being returned. Your best friend loved you back, and everything in the world made sense again.

“Don’t be my best friend,” You mumbled fondly, cheek against his shoulder as you laid out your final request. “Just be mine.”

He smiled, an expression so dazzling you’d never forget it. “I’ll always be yours.”

When Caleb looked back at the sky, he could see the stars.

“Are you done?”

“Shh.”

You rolled your eyes, flopping onto the pile of plushes on your bed as you pulled out your phone and went through your messages. To be fair, it had barely been two minutes since you handed him your laptop, but you were impatient, wanting to know what he thought as soon as possible.

Caleb’s eyes were focused on the screen as he read, humming occasionally as he scrolled through the scene. If anyone had told you a year ago that you’d be letting him read a part of your writing, let alone a sex scene of all things, you would have either laughed in their face or had a mental breakdown.

Yet here you were. Life sure had a sense of humour.

Finally, after an agonising ten minutes, he spoke. “Wow.”

“Is it good?”

He shut your laptop and put it back on your desk carefully, before walking over to where you were. Then, he dropped himself onto the bed as well, purposely caging you in his arms and making sure you were trapped under his weight. Squealing, you hit his arm playfully.

“Caleb!”

Your boyfriend laughed mischievously, lifting his head so you could see the smirk that curled on his lips. “It was good. Very good.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank god.”

“So I must be really good in bed, huh?”

There it was. You groaned as you tried to push him off of you, even though you knew it was a futile task. “Don’t even try, you smug asshole.”

“What?” He asked, dripping in faux innocence. “I mean, you did use me for research purposes. Is it not a fair assumption to make?” He was so proud of it, and knew damn well that the entire sex scene he had just read had been falicitated because of him. Every part of it had been pulled from things the two of you had done, the thought of which made your skin heat up and your cheeks burn.

“You’re so annoying,” you huffed, giving up on trying to get him to stop squashing you. Instead, you adjusted, curling into him. Accepting this, he switched your positions, pulling you on top of him and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You like it.”

“Unfortunately.”

You yelped when he pinched your side, but it dissolved into giggles when he began peppering kisses all over your face. Slipping his arm around your waist, he held you close, grining against your skin. If you had to stay like this forever, in his arms and under the glow of his radiant smile, you would be content.

“You’re an amazing writer, Pipsqueak,” he cradled your face in his hands, his love for you so achingly obvious in the way he looked at you that you wondered how you had never noticed it before. Rubbing his fingers against your cheek, he kissed your nose. “It would be just as great even if I hadn’t– uh– assisted.”

Though you snickered at him, you couldn’t stop yourself from beaming at his praise for your work. “I’m glad you did though,” you let him pull you closer, arm looping around your waist as you propped a leg over his. “Otherwise we might have never figured our shit out.”

He snorted. “Thank god for research. You would have kept me in the friendzone forever.”

“Hey!”

He silenced any further protests that you could have made, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. All possible complaints fled your mind the moment he did, eagerly kissing him back. You didn’t think you’d ever get enough of this and you had no idea how you had survived for so long while denying yourself of it.

Caleb had loved you for twelve years, steadily standing by your side and holding your hand even when you couldn’t see it. He had walked beside you through it all, the highest of highs and lowest of lows, lifting you up high over his shoulders with a grin on his face. He would never leave you behind, because he was your home. The one you had grown up with and wanted to wake up to everyday for the rest of your life.

He had taught you love without imposing it on you, silently showing it to you with every little thing he did. Your best friend. Your love. It had taken you a long time to catch up, but when you finally made it to the finish line, you found him waiting there for you patiently, holding out his hand for you to take.

The next time Tara called him your boyfriend, you didn’t correct her.

fin.

#love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #caleb smut #caleb fluff #lads fluff #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #caleb x reader smut #lads caleb #caleb x mc #caleb x y/n

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interrogatethecat · 5 months ago

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chemistry? more like cheMISERY.

#it’s been a rough day folks #I am so done with my chem class #huge homework assignment due date got moved up. we weren’t taught half the content in lecture #and then I went to office hours and got to be extra confused for an hour #that almost made me late to my next class #if anyone understands thermodynamics please send help #max attack

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hayatoseyepatch · 5 months ago

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Ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ: Assigning positions I think the Love & Deepspace men would fuck you in. With twitter links! Mostly Inspired by Juno — Sabrina Carpenter.

Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ: Zayne|Rafayel|Xavier|Caleb|Sylus

ＷｏｒｄＣｏｕｎｔ: 3.5 k

Ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｓ: Multiple Characters x Fem!Reader

ＣｏｎｔｅｎｔＷａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: NSFW visuals (videos) in the links, penetrative sex (duh), unprotected sex, praise, degradation, mentions of breeding, use of pet names, manhandling, somnophilia (Xavier’s), cock warming (Rafayel’s), spanking, choking, marking, semi-public sex (Zayne’s).

Ａｕｔｈｏｒ’ｓＮｏｔｅ: Happy New Year everyone! (੭ˊᵕˋ)੭♡ I feel like it has been an absolute MINUTE since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve done headcannons. But with this most recent quad I’m feeling inspired. My writer's block has been absolutely insane someone please save me. I’ve never done this type of post just wanted to test the waters with something different. We also have so little on Caleb so his may not stand the test of time, but we shall see LMAO. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Ｘａｖｉｅｒ－Ｓｐｏｏｎｉｎｇ

Xavier wasn’t sure how he slept at night before having you in his arms again. Rousing from sleep he couldn’t help but smile into the back of your neck, nose burying itself in the hair that rested at the base of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. He never knew a smell could make him feel so at ease, but also stir up such heat in the pit of his stomach. His hands wandered your sleeping from, seeking out the warmth radiating from your skin. Nimble fingers slipping beneath the them of your sleep shirt, mind fuzzy and still glazed over with sleep. He was acting purely on instinct, and by the way you subtly arched your back into his touch as a large hand slipped beneath the swell of your breast — you were too.

The plush of your skin was so malleable beneath his fingers, thumb swiping the stiff peak of your hardened nipple as his lips kiss a trail up and down the side your neck. Swallowing a groan when his hips roll into the swell of your ass, not wanting to rouse you from your slumber just yet. His tongue slips past his lips to lick a fat stripe up the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. Desperation growing, the kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, marking your skin as his hips continued to grind against you from behind. Xavier was so lost in the feel of you he nearly missed the groan that slipped from your lips and the way you began to grind back against him. Almost. Moving his lips to press against your ear, his voice is breathy and laced with yearning.

“Please bunny, need to be inside you, cant take it anymore.”

You were too groggy, still half asleep, so all you're able to muster is rolling your hips back on his own as your sign of approval. And that was all Xavier needed. Deft fingers pull your panties to the side, quick to also push down the waistband of his sleep pants, freeing his throbbing cock from their confines. He grips the base of himself with a shaky hand, using the head of his cock to part your folds. He allows himself a moment to swipe himself up your slit, collecting your wetness to use as lube. The head of his cock brushing your clit with every pass. Before long you finally felt the glorious stretch of him pushing past your entrance, sinking slowly inch by inch into your awaiting cunt. The both of you let out sighs of matched contentment as you take him to the base.

Xavier stays there for a moment, relishing the feel of your warmth engulfing him. However, his patience has its limits, and this yarning for you wins out as he begins to move. Xavier sets a steady pace from the start, using his grip on your breast and another on your hip as leverage to guide his thrusts, deep and shallow as his mouth continues it’s attention to the sensitive skin of your neck. Rocking his hips, angling them to hit that spot nestled deep inside you that has your vision blurring more with every pass. You knew neither of you would last long, not like this.

It seemed as if Xavier slept so much to simply replenish the energy needed to fuck you more. It was rare for you both to have a day off, and he didn’t intend on letting you leave this bed anytime soon. Not when your voice, airy and rasp from sleep, called his name so sweetly. Not when he could feel your walls spasming around him in an attempt to milk his cock for all he was worth. And especially not when you abruptly turn your head, lips slotting over his own in a desperate kiss, forcing him to swallow your moans as you came around his cock for the first of many times that day.

Ｚａｙｎｅ－ＤｏｇｇｙＳｔｙｌｅ

Zayne liked to consider himself a patient man, not one to lose his cool or one to give in when that patience is tested. But he is also a man, and everyone has their limits. Those limits being you coming into his place of work for your checkup lacking panties. He was suspicious from the moment you came in, wearing that smile that always alerted him to you being up to something. The small upward turn of your lips and poorly concealed anticipation lighting your features. He knew you better than anyone and always knew even the slightest change in you behavior. So as you sat on the examination table, he scrutinized you.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong, doctor?”

That was his second inclination, the way you purred his profession title, as if the both of you did not share the same bed at night. With a lifted eyebrow he sanitizes his hands before sliding his gloves over deft fingers, scrutinizing eyes overlooking your frame. Taking this opportunity, you cross one leg over the under, the short length of your skirt revealing just whet you weren’t wearing underneath. Today had been a long day for Zayne, several surgeries and a booked schedule causing hm to miss his lunch. Hoping to get some reprieve with your presence he supposes at least it was thoughtful of you to bring him that lunch he missed out on.

He wasted no time in locking the door to the examination room, coming to you in long strides before dropping to his knees. Strong, gloved, hands parting your thighs as he delves into your folds like a man starved. Zayne was usually a patient lover, taking his time to savor every part of you, making sure you’ve been thoroughly satisfied before indulging in his own pleasure. That was not the case today, eating your cunt until it was dripping with a combination of your arousal and his saliva, he stands to his feet. Not so much as bothering to remove his lab coat as he undoes his buckle. You only get a momentary glance of his cock before the world shifts. Using his strength to easily flip you over on the examination table. Bunching your skirt past your hips to expose your ass to his hungry gaze. A latex covered hand comes down on your ass in a harsh smack, fingers grasping the plump skin of your ass, using his grip to expose your dripping cunt to him. He sinks himself to the hilt with one harsh thrust. Leaning over to press his lips against your ear.

“You want to act like a slut, darling? Then I’ll fuck you like a slut.”

Zayne sets a steady pace from the start, relishing in the sounds he not only pulls from your lips but from your cunt as well. Loud squelching and the sounds of skin slapping against skin echo against the walls of the room. His fingers curling against the column of your throat, feeling your racing pulse beneath his fingers, as he uses his grip to aid in bouncing you back on his cock. He could feel the way your walls were fluttering around him, knowing the cut to your airflow with his earlier actions were sending you spiraling toward your release. Effortlessly he slides his free hand beneath you, fingers rubbing tight circles against your clit. Feeling you tighten around him coupled with hearing the begs and pleas that spill from your lips is all the encouragement Zayne needed. His hips lose the steady pace he had set opting instead to slap harshly and erratically against your own, chasing his high.

The sheer pleasure running through his veins is nearly overwhelming, spilling inside you with a groan. He was sure his sheer volume would be enough to rival your own, however he couldn't find it within himself to care too lost in the way you were making him feel. His hips continually rolling against yours even after he has spilled every last drop he had to offer deep within your walls, before the overstimulation he was giving himself becomes painful. He pulls from you, resting back on his heels, using a thumb to part you folds as he hungrily watches your cunt contract around nothing, his come starting to drip from your abused pussy, letting out a groan at the sight.

“How sweet of you to bring me lunch, darling. Now lets get you home for some rest, doctor’s orders.”

Ｓｙｌｕｓ－ＭａｔｉｎｇＰｒｅｓｓ

Sylus hated being away from you, between your job and Onychinus the both of you hadn’t been afforded the opportunity of spending too much time together as of late. Your opposing sleep schedules only aided in your recent separation, you coming home to him still asleep and just coming home as you opened your eyes. It was driving him mad. Pent-up frustration had his temper short and his trigger finger happy. So after an insistence from Luke and Kieran to return to your shared home early for the day, he would make no complaints. He hammed as he entered the home, seeing you just getting ready to tuck into bed. Eyes taking in the sight of you in nothing but one of his shirts, he was on you in an instant. Eyes rolling back at your scent, mixing with his own on your skin. Only to have you laid bare split open on his cock as quickly as he would allow himself to.

His hips don't falter, he keeps up his speed. Though each snap of his hips hitting deeper with each pass, angling his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so. His grip stays firm on the backs of your thighs keeping them pressed to your chest to reach the deepest parts of you. Loving the way your eyes roll back as you struggle to form even a coherent sentence from the way he used your body. His chuckle is deep, cruel, against your neck as you struggle to get out the syllables of his name. Coming broken between thrusts of his hips.

“Awh my poor little kitten, she’s getting her cunt fucked so good she can't even finish my name. Poor thing, here let daddy take care of you sweetie.”

He grins, reattaching his lips to your neck. Tongue, teeth, and lips marking the sensitive skin. He removes one hand from your knee. Eyes flickering with unbridled lust when our grip replaces his own, keeping your leg pressed where it was before he cold even obey you to do so. The thumb of his free hand slotting itself between your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue circles the digit. Popping it from your mouth he used the coated wetness as lubrication to rub tight circles on your clit. Hips picking up pace in time with the kneading. His lips leave your throat capturing a sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, aiming to overstimulate all of your sensitive spots in tandem. A loud cry falls from your lips, your unoccupied hand flying to your lips in an attempt to muffle the sound, lest Luke and Kieran hear your cries for their boss within their rooms. Noticing the hand you attempt to use to cover your mouth he grabs your wrist pinning it to the mattress next to your ear with the hand that was just overstimulating your clit.

“Sorry sweetie, I want to hear every cry, curse and whimper that falls from those lips, let me hear you kitten.”

He wastes no time returning the pace he had set, loud squelching and your moans filling the room like the sweetest symphony. The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. He groans loud and deep feeling your walls slam down on his cock eyes rolling back as whines and whimpers fall from his lips as your own release triggers his own. His body trembles violently as he topples over the edge painting your walls white. He slows his thrusts, body shaking as he overstimulates you both just a little bit before his hips are finally still. He releases your legs, quick to readjust your form wrapping you around him and pressing a long loving kiss to your lips.

Ｒａｆａｙｅｌ－Ｃｏｗｇｉｒｌ

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat here, when your boyfriend had asked if you wanted to sit with him while he finished his painting, you hadn’t envisioned that you would be doing that sat on his lap with his cock nestled deep inside you. Cock warming with Rafayel never ended in just that, his pleading excuse of “It helps me concentrate, cutie, please?” had you falling for it every time. Every shift in his seat, every time he reached over to dip his brush in the paint on his pallet, sent his cock deeper inside your drooling cunt. You were sure he knew it too, felt the way that even plugged with his cock, your arousal still leaked around you both. That he felt it dripping down his skin. You could only hope this was nearly as torturous for him as it was for you. By the sweat forming on his brow, and the way his paintbrush trembled in his grasp, you were sure it was.

And you would be correct.

It wasn’t long until the painting was long forgotten, Rafayel’s lips consuming your own, as if on a mission to lose himself in the embrace. Skilled hands removed your dress with ease, the lingering paint on his skin, staining your own as you hastily removed his shirt. His eyes zeroed in on the colors adorning your skin, a tangible reminder of his touch, he places a hand on your back to steady you, reaching over to coat his hand in the paint that was on his easel. He grips your wrist as he rolls his hips up into your waiting cunt, lips attaching themselves to the delicate skin of your collarbone, kissing a trail up to the shell of your ear. His hot breaths against the sensitive skin has a shiver raking up your spine in his grasp.

“Go on cutie, put your hand in the paint, want you to make a masterpiece on my skin, my muse.”

Grabbing your wrist, he dips your hand in the paint, just as he had done. A desperate whine slips past your lips when he thrusts sharply upward, hands gripping his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin in their grip. Using your hold on him as leverage to keep bouncing on his cock, the paint marking him, the sight of it on his skin makes your head fuzzy. Seeing the remnants of you on him has you touching him more, smearing the paint on his skin. You continue your movements, bouncing on his cock in time with his upward thrusts. Head dipping downward to capture a pebbled nipple between his lips, tongue laving over the bud as the sound of skin against skin fills the studio.

Your thighs tremble from the burn of exertion of your repeated movements. Sensing you were coming to your end, Rafayel comes to your aid. Hands gripping the plush of your hips as he fucks up into you, heels digging into the bar at the bottom of his stool to ground himself as he meets each one of your thrusts with one of his own. He knew your body like the back of his hand, every tremble, every quiver of your cunt, every desperate sound that fell from your lips he could identify as you nearing your end. His mouth switches to pay attention to your opposite nub teeth and tongue giving it the same treatment in time with the push of his hips. Pulling from you with a 'pop' to grit his teeth, baring down to keep his composure before you were able to release before him. He lets you pull him close hips snapping relentlessly thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock in your release. It sends him hurtling to his own release hips slapping violently against your own as he paints your insides with a loud scream of your name. His thrusts slow making sure he had filled you with every drop he had to offer. Heart racing, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls your trembling form to his chest pressing tender kisses everywhere his lips could reach.

“Such a good girl for me, cutie. Look at you, I think this might just be the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Ｃａｌｅｂ－Ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎａｒｙ

Caleb had always thought himself lucky to have spent so much time with you. He had the privilege of watching you grow, being by your side through so many monumental moments in your life. Birthdays, graduations, holidays — he got to spend every last one of them by your side. But the more you both grew older the more he realized you hadn’t seen him the way he had seen you, at least he hadn’t thought so. The way you had always treated him had felt so platonic, with no hope for you to ever see the way he had felt for you For him it was never platonic, being in love with you for longer than he could remember. And now, even as you both hastily pulled your lips from each other only long enough to rid each other’s clothes from your trembling bodies, he couldn’t believe you were finally his.

Caleb had dreamed of this for years. Having you like this, being able to touch you like this, seeing the way your face contorted in pleasure as you trembled beneath him. For once seeing him differently, not the sweet boy from your childhood, but as a man. Could only imagine the delicious way his name would sound not in the way he had always heard it but practically purred when laced with lust-fueled ecstasy. He was basking in it. The way you felt beneath his fingers as you trembled from his touch. Had fisted his cock on lonely nights to the mere thought of ever having you like this. Had spilled into his palm as he finished with your name on his lips.

But now he had you, and he had no plans on letting you go any time soon. He lets out a groan into your neck as he sinks into you, inch by agonizing inch until he was buried balls deep in your awaiting cunt. His eyes roll back at the way you greedily pull him in deeper, the fluttering walls of your cunt urging him to begin to move. He starts with deep shallow thrusts, wanting to savor the feeling of your welcoming walls after so many years of yearning. Needing to feel your deepest parts and enjoy every moment of being connected with you. However, he had his limits and the sweet way you cooed his name as you urged him on has him picking up the pace. His hips setting a steadfast pace, going deeper with each pass, gripping your hips as you call out his name.

He can't help it, the feeling of your velvety walls surrounding him, sucking him in for all he was worth, he throws his head back with another loud groan as he slowly withdraws his hips, pulling back until just the mushroom tip of his cock remains inside. With a perfect snap of his hips, aided by the sheer amount of wetness that had gathered to this point he enters back in with ease before picking up the pace again. His gaze returned to you, only to see how your arm was thrown over your face shielding you from him and muffling the sweet sounds spilling from your lips. Grabbing your wrist, he pins it firmly against the mattress beneath you, striking eyes boring into your own.

“Look at me, pipsqueak. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”

Caleb's voice came out gruff, desperate, as the pads of his fingers sank into the plush of your cheeks — forcing your gaze to remain locked on his own. The nickname you had heard your whole life now took on a different edge, sounding almost foreign to our ears.

“Need to see the look in your eyes as you lose yourself on my cock baby.”

Dividers, character banners, & writing by me. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Network tags: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn

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pradumnpaswan · 10 months ago

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BHIC 133 Solved Assignment In Hindi Free 2024-2025

निम्नलिखित वर्णनात्मक श्रेणी प्रश्नों के उत्तर लगभग 500 शब्दों (प्रत्येक ) में दीजिए । प्रत्येक प्रश्न 20 अंकों का है।

Q 1. मध्यकाल के ऐतिहासिक स्रोत के रूप में राजनीतिक वृत्तांत के महत्व पर चर्चा

मध्यकालीन भारत का इतिहास समझने के लिए राजनीतिक वृत्तांत एक महत्वपूर्ण स्रोत के रूप में माने जाते हैं। इन वृत्तांतों में राजा-महाराजाओं, सेनाओं, युद्धों, संधियों, और प्रशासनिक गतिविधियों का वर्णन मिलता है। ये राजनीतिक वृत्तांत न केवल ऐतिहासिक घटनाओं का विवरण प्रदान करते हैं, बल्कि उस समय की सामाजिक, आर्थिक और सांस्कृतिक स्थितियों का भी एक झलक देते हैं।

1. ऐतिहासिक घटनाओं का सटीक विवरण

मध्यकालीन भारत के राजनीतिक वृत्तांतों में विभिन्न राजवंशों के उदय और पतन, युद्ध और विजय, और राजनीतिक घटनाओं का वर्णन मिलता है। उदाहरण के लिए, तारीख-ए-फिरोजशाही, तारीख-ए-यामिनी, और तारीख-ए-फरिश्ता जैसे ग्रंथ उस समय की प्रमुख घटनाओं का सजीव वर्णन करते हैं। इन वृत्तांतों से हमें तत्कालीन राजाओं और उनके शासनकाल के बारे में विस्तृत जानकारी मिलती है।

2. प्रशासनिक व्यवस्था क�� विवरण

राजनीतिक वृत्तांतों में प्रशासनिक व्यवस्था, कर-व्यवस्था, और न्यायिक प्रणाली का भी वर्णन मिलता है। इल्तुतमिश, अलाउद्दीन खिलजी और अकबर के शासनकाल के राजनीतिक वृत्तांतों में उनके द्वारा किए गए प्रशासनिक सुधारों और नई नीतियों का विस्तृत विवरण मिलता है। इससे हमें यह समझने में मदद मिलती है कि किस प्रकार से उस समय के शासक अपने राज्य को सुचारू रूप से चलाने के लिए नीतियाँ बनाते थे।

3. सामाजिक और सांस्कृतिक संदर्भ

राजनीतिक वृत्तांतों में उस समय के समाज और संस्कृति का भी परोक्ष रूप से वर्णन मिलता है। शासकों द्वारा अपनाई गई नीतियाँ और उनके द्वारा लागू किए गए कानून, उस समय के समाज की संरचना और संस्कृति पर गहरा प्रभाव डालते थे। उदाहरण के लिए, अकबर के धार्मिक सहिष्णुता के सिद्धांत और दीन-ए-इलाही की स्थापना से उस समय की धार्मिक और सांस्कृतिक स्थिति का पता चलता है।

4. विदेशी यात्रियों और उनके वृत्तांतों का योगदान

मध्यकालीन भारत के इतिहास को समझने के लिए विदेशी यात्रियों के वृत्तांत भी महत्वपूर्ण हैं। इब्न बतूता, अल-बिरूनी, और मार्को पोलो जैसे विदेशी यात्रियों के वृत्तांतों में भारत की राजनीतिक स्थिति का वर्णन मिलता है। ये वृत्तांत न केवल राजनीतिक घटनाओं का विवरण देते हैं, बल्कि भारत के समाज, धर्म और आर्थिक स्थिति का भी विस्तृत विवरण प्रदान करते हैं।

5. आलोचनात्मक दृष्टिकोण की आवश्यकता

हालांकि राजनीतिक वृत्तांत महत्वपूर्ण हैं, लेकिन इन्हें आलोचनात्मक दृष्टिकोण से देखना भी जरूरी है। इनमें अक्सर शासकों की उपलब्धियों को बढ़ा-चढ़ाकर प्रस्तुत किया जाता है और उनकी विफलताओं को छुपाया जाता है। इसलिए, इन वृत्तांतों का उपयोग करते समय हमें विभिन्न स्रोतों की तुलना करनी चाहिए और उनकी विश्वसनीयता का मूल्यांकन करना चाहिए।

निष्कर्ष

मध्यकालीन भारत के राजनीतिक वृत्तांत इतिहास के अध्ययन के लिए एक महत्वपूर्ण स्रोत हैं। ये हमें उस समय की राजनीतिक, सामाजिक और सांस्कृतिक स्थिति का गहरा ज्ञान प्रदान करते हैं। हालांकि, इनका उपयोग करते समय सावधानी और आलोचनात्मक दृष्टिकोण अपनाना आवश्यक है ताकि इतिहास को सही परिप्रेक्ष्य में समझा जा सके।

Q 2. अकबर के समय में मुगल-राजपूत संबंधों का परीक्षण

अकबर के शासनकाल (1556-1605) में मुगल-राजपूत संबंधों का महत्वपूर्ण स्थान रहा है। अकबर ने मुगल साम्राज्य को स्थिर और मजबूत बनाने के लिए राजपूतों के साथ न केवल मित्रवत संबंध स्थापित किए, बल्कि उन्हें अपनी सत्ता में शामिल करके साम्राज्य की सीमाओं को भी विस्तारित किया। यह कदम न केवल अकबर की राजनीतिक कुशलता को दर्शाता है, बल्कि उसकी धार्मिक सहिष्णुता और प्रशासनिक दूरदर्शिता को भी उजागर करता है।

1. विवाह संबंधों के माध्यम से गठबंधन

अकबर ने राजपूतों के साथ वैवाहिक संबंधों के माध्यम से मित्रता स्थापित की। उसने 1562 में आमेर के राजा भारमल की बेटी जोधाबाई (मरियम-उज़-ज़मानी) से विवाह किया। यह विवाह अकबर और राजपूतों के बीच संबंधों की शुरुआत थी, जिसने आने वाले समय में मजबूत राजनीतिक गठबंधनों का मार्ग प्रशस्त किया। इसके बाद, कई अन्य राजपूत शासकों ने भी अपनी बेटियों का विवाह मुगल शहजादों से किया, जिससे उनके संबंध और भी गहरे हो गए।

2. राजनीतिक और सैन्य सहयोग

अकबर ने राजपूत शासकों को अपने साम्राज्य का अभिन्न हिस्सा बनाया। उन्होंने राजपूतों को मुगल दरबार में उच्च पदों पर नियुक्त किया और उन्हें मुगल प्रशासन में महत्वपूर्ण भूमिकाएँ सौंपी। राजा मान सिंह, जो अकबर के सबसे विश्वासपात्र सेनापतियों में से एक थे, इसका एक प्रमुख उदाहरण हैं। उन्होंने कई महत्वपूर्ण सैन्य अभियानों में मुगलों का नेतृत्व किया और अपनी वीरता के लिए जाने गए।

अकबर ने राजपूतों के सैन्य कौशल का भी पूरा लाभ उठाया। राजपूत सेनाओं को मुगल सेना में शामिल करके उन्होंने अपने सैन्य बल को मजबूत किया। इस सहयोग ने न केवल मुगल साम्राज्य को विस्तार करने में मदद की, बल्कि अकबर को विद्रोहियों और बाहरी आक्रमणकारियों के खिलाफ भी सुरक्षा प्रदान की।

3. धार्मिक सहिष्णुता और सांस्कृतिक समन्वय

अकबर की धार्मिक सहिष्णुता ने भी मुगल-राजपूत संबंधों को मजबूत करने में महत्वपूर्ण भूमिका निभाई। उसने राजपूतों की धार्मिक स्वतंत्रता का सम्मान किया और उनके धार्मिक स्थलों को संरक्षण प्रदान किया। अकबर ने "दीन-ए-इलाही" नामक एक नए धर्म की स्थापना की, जो विभिन्न धर्मों के तत्वों का समन्वय था। हालाँकि इस धर्म को व्यापक समर्थन नहीं मिला, लेकिन यह अकबर की धार्मिक सहिष्णुता और विभिन्न धर्मों के प्रति उसके सम्मान को दर्शाता है।

4. राजपूतों की स्वतंत्रता और सम्मान का संरक्षण

अकबर ने राजपूतों की स्वतंत्रता और उनके सम्मान का भी विशेष ध्यान रखा। उसने राजपूतों को उनके राज्य की स्वतंत्रता बरकरार रखने की अनुमति दी और उनके साथ समान व्यवहार किया। राजपूत शासकों को अपने-अपने क्षेत्रों में स्वतंत्र रूप से शासन करने की छूट थी, बशर्ते वे मुगल सम्राट के प्रति निष्ठावान रहें। यह कदम राजपूतों के लिए आकर्षक था, क्योंकि इससे उन्हें मुगल साम्राज्य की सुरक्षा प्राप्त होती थी, जबकि उनकी स्वायत्तता भी बनी रहती थी।

5. विद्रोह और तनावपूर्ण संबंध

हालाँकि अधिकांश राजपूत शासकों ने अकबर के साथ सहयोग किया, लेकिन कुछ ने उसका विरोध भी किया। मेवाड़ के राणा प्रताप ने अकबर की अधीनता स्वीकार करने से इनकार कर दिया और मुगलों के खिलाफ संघर्ष जारी रखा। हल्दीघाटी का युद्ध (1576) इस संघर्ष का एक महत्वपूर्ण उदाहरण है। हालांकि राणा प्रताप को इस युद्ध में हार का सामना करना पड़ा, लेकिन उन्होंने कभी भी अकबर के समक्ष आत्मसमर्पण नहीं किया। यह संघर्ष यह दर्शाता है कि अकबर और राजपूतों के बीच संबंध हमेशा सौहार्दपूर्ण नहीं थे, और कुछ राजपूत शासकों ने अपनी स्वतंत्रता को बनाए रखने के लिए संघर्ष किया।

निष्कर्ष

अकबर के शासनकाल में मुगल-राजपूत संबंधों ने भारतीय इतिहास में एक नया मोड़ दिया। इन संबंधों ने न केवल मुगल साम्राज्य को स्थिरता और विस्तार प्रदान किया, बल्कि भारत की सांस्कृतिक और धार्मिक विविधता को भी समृद्ध किया। अकबर की राजनीतिक कुशलता और धार्मिक सहिष्णुता ने राजपूतों के साथ उसके संबंधों को मजबूती प्रदान की, जिससे दोनों पक्षों को लाभ हुआ। हालाँकि कुछ राजपूत शासकों ने मुगलों का विरोध किया, लेकिन अधिकांश ने अकबर की सत्ता को स्वीकार कर लिया और उसके साथ सहयोग किया, जिससे मुगल साम्राज्य भारतीय उपमहाद्वीप में एक शक्तिशाली साम्राज्य बन सका।

निम्नलिखित मध्यम श्रेणी प्रश्नों के उत्तर लगभग 250 शब्दों (प्रत्येक ) में दीजिए । प्रत्येक प्रश्न 10 अंकों का है ।

Q 3. अकबर के अधीन भूमि राजस्व प्रणाली का मूल्यांकन

अकबर के शासनकाल में भूमि राजस्व प्रणाली का एक मह��्वपूर्ण सुधार किया गया, जिसे "जमीनदारी" या "टोडरमल बंदोबस्त" के नाम से जाना जाता है। यह प्रणाली अकबर के वित्त मंत्री राजा टोडरमल द्वारा विकसित की गई थी और इसे भारत में कृषि अर्थव्यवस्था को स्थिर और संगठित करने के उद्देश्य से लागू किया गया था।

1. माप और वर्गीकरण

इस प्रणाली के तहत, सबसे पहले ��ूमि का सर्वेक्षण और मापन किया गया। भूमि को उपज के आधार पर तीन श्रेणियों में वर्गीकृत किया गया: अच्छी, मध्यम, और खराब भूमि। इस वर्गीकरण के आधार पर ही किसानों से राजस्व की दर तय की गई। भूमि की उपज और संभावित उत्पादन के अनुसार राजस्व निर्धारित किया जाता था, जिसे "खरज" कहा जाता था।

2. बंधाई और फसल मूल्यांकन

अकबर की राजस्व प्रणाली में फसलों के आधार पर भी राजस्व तय किया जाता था। तीन साल की औसत उपज के आधार पर राजस्व दरें तय की जाती थीं। किसानों को राजस्व नकद या फसल के रूप में भुगतान करना पड़ता था। यह प्रणाली किसानों के लिए अधिक पारदर्शी और स्थिर थी, जिससे उन्हें राहत मिली।

3. प्रशासनिक संरचना

राजस्व संग्रह की प्रक्रिया को सुनिश्चित करने के लिए एक संगठित प्रशासनिक ढांचे का निर्माण किया गया था। परगना और सरदार स्तर पर अधिकारी नियुक्त किए गए थे, जो किसानों से राजस्व संग्रह करते थे और इसे राज्य के खजाने में जमा करते थे।

4. किसानों की स्थिति

इस प्रणाली का एक बड़ा लाभ यह था कि किसानों की आर्थिक स्थिति को ध्यान में रखकर राजस्व निर्धारित किया गया। इससे किसानों को भारी करों के बोझ से राहत मिली और उनकी उत्पादकता बढ़ी। हालांकि, कुछ क्षेत्रों में अधिकारियों द्वारा दुरुपयोग की शिकायतें भी आईं, लेकिन कुल मिलाकर इस प्रणाली ने मुगल साम्राज्य की आर्थिक स्थिति को मजबूत किया।

निष्कर्ष

अकबर की भूमि राजस्व प्रणाली ने भारतीय कृषि अर्थव्यवस्था में एक महत्वपूर्ण सुधार किया। यह प्रणाली न केवल राजस्व संग्रह को सुव्यवस्थित और न्यायसंगत बनाने में सफल रही, बल्कि किसानों की आर्थिक स्थिति को भी बेहतर बनाने में सहायक सिद्ध हुई। हालांकि, इसे पूरी तरह से दोषरहित नहीं कहा जा सकता, लेकिन इसकी कुशलता और समावेशी दृष्टिकोण के कारण इसे अकबर के शासनकाल की एक महत्वपूर्ण उपलब्धि माना जाता है।

Q 4. असम में अहोम राज्य के उदय पर टिप्पणी

असम में अहोम राज्य का उदय 13वीं शताब्दी में हुआ, जब अहोम लोगों का एक समूह दक्षिण-पूर्व एशिया के म्यांमार (तत्कालीन बर्मा) क्षेत्र से असम की घाटी में प्रवास किया। 1228 ईस्वी में, उनके नेता सुकफा ने ब्रह्मपुत्र घाटी में अहोम साम्राज्य की स्थापना की, जो लगभग 600 वर्षों तक असम का प्रमुख राज्य बना रहा।

1. प्रारंभिक स्थापना और विस्तार

सुकफा ने स्थानीय जनजातियों, विशेषकर बोडो और अन्य तिब्बती-बर्मन जनजातियों के साथ संधियाँ करके और सैन्य शक्ति का प्रयोग करके अपने राज्य की नींव रखी। उन्होंने अपनी शक्ति को बढ़ाने के लिए स्थानीय समुदायों के साथ गठबंधन किया और उन्हें अहोम समाज में एकीकृत किया। इस प्रक्रिया में, उन्होंने एक संगठित राज्य की स्थापना की, जिसमें एक मजबूत प्रशासनिक ढांचा विकसित किया गया।

2. प्रशासनिक संरचना

अहोम राज्य की प्रशासनिक संरचना काफी विकसित थी। राजा के नेतृत्व में, राज्य का प्रशासन "पटिक" और "डोलोई" जैसे अधिकारियों द्वारा चलाया जाता था। राज्य को विभिन्न प्रशासनिक इकाइयों में विभाजित किया गया, और कर-संग्रह, सैन्य संगठन, और न्यायपालिका के लिए एक सुसंगठित प्रणाली विकसित की गई।

3. सांस्कृतिक और धार्मिक योगदान

अहोम शासकों ने असम की सांस्कृतिक और धार्मिक विरासत को समृद्ध किया। उन्होंने वैष्णव धर्म को बढ़ावा दिया और असमिया भाषा और साहित्य के विकास में महत्वपूर्ण भूमिका निभाई। अहोम शासन के दौरान असमिया संस्कृति का विकास और संरक्षण हुआ, जिसने असम की सामाजिक और सांस्कृतिक पहचान को मजबूत किया।

4. मुगलों के साथ संघर्ष

अहोम राज्य को कई बार मुगल आक्रमणों का सामना करना पड़ा, लेकिन अपनी रणनीतिक कुशलता और सैन्य शक्ति के बल पर अहोम शासकों ने मुगलों को कई मौकों पर पराजित किया। सराईघाट का युद्ध (1671) इसका प्रमुख उदाहरण है, जिसमें अहोम सेनापति लचित बोरफुकन ने मुगल सेना को हराया था।

निष्कर्ष

अहोम राज्य का उदय असम के इतिहास में एक महत्वपूर्ण घटना है, जिसने लगभग 600 वर्षों तक असम की राजनीति, संस्कृति, और समाज पर गहरा प्रभाव डाला। यह राज्य अपनी सैन्य शक्ति, कुशल प्रशासन और सांस्कृतिक योगदान के लिए जाना जाता है। अहोम शासकों ने असम की एकता और पहचान को मजबूत किया, जो आज भी असम की सांस्कृतिक धरोहर का हिस्सा है।

Q 5. हुंडी क्या है? मुगल काल में यह मौद्रिक लेन-देन का एक महत्वपूर्ण माध्यम कैसे बना?

हुंडी एक प्राचीन वित्तीय साधन है जो व्यापार और मौद्रिक लेन-देन में इस्तेमाल होता है। यह मूलतः एक प्रकार का बैंकर या चालान होता है, जिसमें लेन-देन की जानकारी और भुगतान की जिम्मेदारी को अन्य व्यक्ति या संस्थान द्वारा सुनिश्चित किया जाता है। यह एक लिखित आदेश होता है जिसमें एक व्यक्ति (धारक) किसी अन्य व्यक्ति या संस्थान को धन प्राप्त करने का अधिकार देता है।

1. हुंडी की परिभाषा और प्रकार

हुंडी एक प्रकार का वित्तीय दस्तावेज होता है, जिसका प्रयोग व्यापारिक लेन-देन और ऋण प्रदान करने में किया जाता है। इसके प्रमुख प्रकार निम्नलिखित हैं:

मुस्लिम हुंडी (मुसलमानों के लिए): यह हुंडी एक सामान्य व्यापारिक लेन-देन के लिए होती है जिसमें एक व्यक्ति दूसरे को धन का भुगतान करने का आदेश देता है।

दार (दस्तावेज): इसमें कोई व्यक्ति धन का भुगतान करके लेन-देन को पूरा करता है।

मद्रास: इसमें व्यापारियों के बीच की गई लेन-देन की पुष्टि होती है।

2. मुगल काल में हुंडी का महत्व

मुगल काल (1526-1857) में हुंडी ने मौद्रिक लेन-देन का एक महत्वपूर्ण माध्यम बनकर उभरा। इसके महत्व के कुछ प्रमुख कारण निम्नलिखित हैं:

व्यापारिक लेन-देन में सुविधा: मुगल काल में व्यापारिक गतिविधियाँ बहुत व्यापक थीं, और व्यापारियों को विभिन्न क्षेत्रों में लेन-देन की आवश्यकता होती थी। हुंडी ने इस प्रक्रिया को सरल और सुरक्षित बना दिया। व्यापारियों ने अपनी लेन-देन को दस्तावेज के रूप में दर्ज किया, जिससे उन्हें भुगतान प्राप्त करने में आसानी होती थी।

सुरक्षा और विश्वसनीयता: हुंडी ने लेन-देन को सुरक्षित और विश्वसनीय बनाने में मदद की। यह दस्तावेज लेन-देन की पुष्टि करता था और भुगतान की जिम्मेदारी को सुनिश्चित करता था। इससे व्यापारियों को धोखाधड़ी और आर्थिक जोखिमों से बचाव मिला।

अंत��्राष्ट्रीय व्यापार में योगदान: मुगल काल में भारत ने विश्व व्यापार में महत्वपूर्ण भूमिका निभाई। हुंडी ने अंतर्राष्ट्रीय व्यापार को सरल बनाया क्योंकि यह विभिन्न व्यापारिक मानकों और नियमों के अनुसार लेन-देन को मान्यता देता था।

प्रशासनिक समर्थन: मुगलों ने हुंडी को मान्यता दी और इसे कानूनी दस्तावेज के रूप में स्वीकार किया। इससे व्यापारिक लेन-देन की प्रक्रिया को मान्यता मिली और व्यापारियों को सरकारी समर्थन प्राप्त हुआ।

3. औद्योगिक और आर्थिक प्रभाव

हुंडी ने मुगलों के आर्थिक और औद्योगिक विकास में महत्वपूर्ण भूमिका निभाई। व्यापारिक लेन-देन की सरलता और सुरक्षा ने भारत की अर्थव्यवस्था को स्थिरता और वृद्धि प्रदान की। इसने व्यापारियों को नए व्यापारिक अवसरों की खोज में मदद की और भारत को वैश्विक व्यापार नेटवर्क में एक महत्वपूर्ण स्थान दिलाया।

निष्कर्ष

हुंडी ने मुगल काल में मौद्रिक लेन-देन के लिए एक प्रभावी और विश्वसनीय साधन के रूप में कार्य किया। इसकी सहायता से व्यापारिक लेन-देन को सरल, सुरक्षित, और व्यावसायिक दृष्टिकोण से कुशल बनाया गया। यह एक ऐसा वित्तीय उपकरण था जिसने मुगलों के आर्थिक और व्यापारिक विकास में महत्वपूर्ण योगदान दिया और भारतीय व्यापार को वैश्विक स्तर पर मान्यता दिलाई।

निम्नलिखित लघु श्रेणी प्रश्नों के उत्तर लगभग 100 शब्दों (प्रत्येक ) में दीजिए । प्रत्येक प्रश्न 6 अंकों का है।

Q 6. विजय नगर साम्राज्य में मंदिरों की आर्थिक भूमिका

विजय नगर साम्राज्य (1336-1646) के दौरान मंदिरों ने न केवल धार्मिक बल्कि आर्थिक दृष्टिकोण से भी महत्वपूर्ण भूमिका निभाई। मंदिरों के पास विशाल जमींदारी, भेंट और दान की संपत्तियाँ थीं, जो उन्हें एक प्रमुख आर्थिक शक्ति बनाती थीं। ये मंदिर कृषि भूमि, व्यापारिक संपत्तियाँ, और अन्य संसाधनों के स्वामी थे, जिससे उन्हें स्थिर आय प्राप्त होती थी। मंदिरों का आर्थिक प्रभाव स्थानीय समाज के विकास में सहायक था, जैसे कि कृषि प्रोत्साहन और स्थानीय व्यापारिक गतिविधियों को बढ़ावा देना। मंदिरों की समृद्धि ने साम्राज्य के आर्थिक और सामाजिक ढांचे को मजबूत किया।

Q 7. सल्तनत में ग्रामीण मध्यस्थ वर्ग

सल्तनत काल (1206-1526) में ग्रामीण मध्यस्थ वर्ग का महत्वपूर्ण स्थान था। यह वर्ग गाँवों में प्रशासनिक, आर्थिक, और सामाजिक भूमिका निभाता था। इसमें मुख्य रूप से गाँव के मुखिया, पटवारी, और अन्य प्रशासनिक अधिकारी शामिल थे। इन मध्यस्थों का कार्य भूमि रिकॉर्ड बनाए रखना, कर वसूलना, और स्थानीय विवादों का समाधान करना था।

इन अधिकारियों को साम्राज्य के विभिन्न नीतियों और आदेशों को ग्रामीण क्षेत्रों में लागू करने की जिम्मेदारी सौंपी जाती थी। उनके माध्यम से सल्तनत ने अपनी सत्ता और नीतियों को ग्रामीण क्षेत्रों तक पहुँचाया। इस वर्ग की भूमिका ग्रामीण प्रशासन की स्थिरता और साम्राज्य की सुसंगतता को सुनिश्चित करने में महत्वपूर्ण थी।

Q 8. मध्यकालीन भारत में प्रिंटिंग प्रेस

मध्यकालीन भारत (1206-1526) के दौरान प्रिंटिंग प्रेस का उपयोग नहीं था, क्योंकि इसका आविष्कार 15वीं शताब्दी में यूरोप में हुआ था। प्रिंटिंग प्रेस की शुरुआत जर्मनी में जोहान्स गुटेनबर्ग द्वारा की गई थी। भारत में प्रिंटिंग प्रेस का आगमन 16वीं शताब्दी के अंत और 17वीं शताब्दी की शुरुआत में हुआ, जब यूरोपीय मिशनरियों और व्यापारियों क�� माध्यम से इसकी शुरुआत हुई।

प्रारंभ में, प्रिंटिंग प्रेस का उपयोग मुख्यतः धार्मिक और शैक्षिक सामग्री के प्रकाशन के लिए किया गया। यह माध्यम भारतीय समाज में पुस्तकों की उपलब्धता और ज्ञान के प्रसार को बढ़ावा देने में महत्वपूर्ण साबित हुआ।

Q 9. रुद्रमा देवी

रुद्रमा देवी (1262-1289) दक्षिण भारत के काकतिया वंश की एक प्रमुख शासक थीं। वह काकतिया राजा प्रभाकरण के बाद शासन करने वाली पहली महिला शासक थीं और अपने पिता की मृत्यु के बाद सिंहासन पर बैठीं। रुद्रमा देवी ने अपने शासनकाल में कई महत्वपूर्ण कार्य किए और काकतिया साम्राज्य को स्थिर और समृद्ध बनाने में महत्वपूर्ण भूमिका निभाई।

1. प्रशासनिक और सैन्य सुधार

रुद्रमा देवी ने प्रशासनिक और सैन्य सुधारों को लागू किया। उन्होंने साम्राज्य की सीमाओं की रक्षा के लिए मजबूत सैन्य बल का निर्माण किया और विभिन्न क्षेत्रों में प्रभावी शासन व्यवस्था स्थापित की। उनकी सैन्य कुशलता और नेतृत्व ने काकतिया साम्राज्य को बाहरी आक्रमणों से सुरक्षित रखा।

2. सांस्कृतिक और धार्मिक योगदान

उनके शासनकाल में कला, संस्कृति और धार्मिक गतिविधियों को बढ़ावा मिला। रुद्रमा देवी ने मंदिरों और धार्मिक संस्थानों को संरक्षण और समर्थन प्रदान किया। उन्होंने अपने शासनकाल के दौरान कई महत्वपूर्ण धार्मिक और सांस्कृतिक निर्माण कार्यों को संपन्न किया, जो आज भी काकतिया कला और वास्तुकला के प्रमुख उदाहरण हैं।

3. महिला शासक के रूप में योगदान

रुद्रमा देवी एक प्रभावशाली महिला शासक के रूप में उभरीं, जिन्होंने पुरुष-प्रधान समाज में अपने नेतृत्व और प्रशासनिक कौशल के लिए सराहना प्राप्त की। उनकी शासकीय नीतियों और नेतृत्व ने साबित किया कि महिलाएं भी सत्ता और शासन में महत्वपूर्ण भूमिका निभा सकती हैं।

निष्कर्ष

रुद्रमा देवी ने काकतिया साम्राज्य को एक मजबूत और स्थिर शासन प्रदान किया। उनके प्रशासनिक और सैन्य सुधार, सांस्कृतिक योगदान, और महिला नेतृत्व ने उन्हें भारतीय इतिहास में एक महत्वपूर्ण स्थान दिलाया। उनकी विरासत आज भी काकतिया वंश की ऐतिहासिक महत्ता का प्रमाण है।

Q 10 खिलाफत और दिल्ली सल्तनत

खिलाफत और दिल्ली सल्तनत का संबंध भारतीय उपमहाद्वीप के मध्यकालीन इतिहास में महत्वपूर्ण रहा है। दोनों संस्थाएँ अलग-अलग राजनीतिक और धार्मिक दृष्टिकोणों से जुड़ी थीं, लेकिन उनके बीच का संपर्क और प्रभाव एक जटिल और दिलचस्प परिदृश्य प्रस्तुत करता है।

1. दिल्ली सल्तनत

दिल्ली सल्तनत (1206-1526) एक महत्वपूर्ण मुस्लिम साम्राज्य था, जिसने भारतीय उपमहाद्वीप में शक्ति स्थापित की। इसका प्रारंभ कुतुबुद्दीन ऐबक द्वारा किया गया था और इसके बाद कई शासकों ने शासन किया, जैसे इल्तुतमिश, अलाउद्दीन खिलजी, और तुगलक वंश के शासक। दिल्ली सल्तनत ने भारतीय राजनीति और समाज पर गहरा प्रभाव डाला, और इसके शासकों ने विभिन्न प्रकार की प्रशासनिक, आर्थिक, और सैन्य नीतियों को लागू किया।

2. खिलाफत

खिलाफत (Caliphate) इस्लामिक राज्य का धार्मिक और राजनीतिक नेतृत्व था। यह इस्लामी साम्राज्य के सबसे प्रमुख धार्मिक नेताओं का समूह था, जो मोहम्मद के पश्चात इस्लामिक समुदाय की राजनीतिक और धार्मिक दिशा का मार्गदर्शन करता था। खिलाफत की प्रमुख सीट मदीना और बाद में ��गदाद में रही।

3. दिल्ली सल्तनत और खिलाफत का संबंध

धार्मिक और राजनीतिक संपर्क: दिल्ली सल्तनत और खिलाफत के बीच एक धार्मिक और राजनीतिक संबंध था, जिसमें दिल्ली के शासक खिलाफत के प्रति निष्ठा और समर्थन का दावा करते थे। सल्तनत के शासकों ने खिलाफत के धार्मिक अधिकार को मान्यता दी और मुस्लिम साम्राज्य की एकता और शक्ति को बनाए रखने की कोशिश की।

खिलाफत आंदोलन: 20वीं सदी की शुरुआत में, खिलाफत आंदोलन ने भारतीय राजनीति में एक महत्वपूर्ण स्थान प्राप्त किया। यह आंदोलन तुर्की के खिलाफत की रक्षा और प्रथम विश्व युद्ध के बाद तुर्की में उत्पन्न संकट के खिलाफ था। महात्मा गांधी और अन्य भारतीय नेताओं ने इस आंदोलन का समर्थन किया, जो दिल्ली सल्तनत की सत्ता के समय का संबंध नहीं था, लेकिन भारतीय और इस्लामी राजनीति के बीच संबंधों को दर्शाता है।

4. प्रभाव और योगदान

दिल्ली सल्तनत और खिलाफत दोनों ने भारतीय उपमहाद्वीप के इतिहास पर गहरा प्रभाव डाला। दिल्ली सल्तनत ने भारतीय राजनीति और समाज में मुस्लिम संस्कृति और प्रशासनिक ढांचे को स्थापित किया। खिलाफत ने इस्लामी धर्म और राजनीति की दिशा को निर्धारित किया और साम्राज्य के धार्मिक नेतृत्व को बनाए रखा।

निष्कर्ष

खिलाफत और दिल्ली सल्तनत के बीच का संबंध भारतीय और इस्लामी राजनीति के जटिल नेटवर्क को दर्शाता है। दिल्ली सल्तनत ने भारत में मुस्लिम शक्ति की स्थापना की और खिलाफत ने इस्लामी धर्म और राजनीति की दिशा को निर्धारित किया। दोनों संस्थाओं का संबंध धार्मिक निष्ठा, राजनीतिक समर्थन, और सांस्कृतिक प्रभाव के माध्यम से गहराई से जुड़ा हुआ था।

#bhic133 #solved #assignment help #pradumn kumar #solved assignment #free #hindipdf #content writing #ignou #bag #ignou student #ignou student support

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unique-assignment · 10 months ago

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#assignment help #writing #art journal #assignment shark #assignment writing #technology #assignment代写 #journal #content writer #academic assignments

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mssorceressupreme · 4 months ago

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Hate and Love | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: in the mission of transporting Harry safely to the Burrow, you and Fred get thrown off-track as his broom breaks, resulting in an overnight detour at a hotel.

Warnings/content: minors DNI 18+, halfblood!reader, One Bed Trope, enemies to lovers, boner!alert, oral!freceiving, p in v, grumpy x sunshine (if u squint), raw penetration (wrap it plz), cumming inside, orgasm denial, fluffy ending, fighting death eaters, dom!fred, sub!reader

Wordcount: 5.8k

———

You stood near the wall, arms crossed, in the house of number four Privet Drive, the place where it all began for one of your closest friends, Harry Potter. The group of you were gathered in the empty living room, discussing the highly dangerous plan of transporting Harry safely to the Burrow.

Beside you stood the twins, listening intently as Mad-Eye Moody instructed orders.

Seven of them had just taken polyjuice potion, resulting in seven 'Harry's', all in accordance with Moody's plan.

“Right then, we’ll be pairing off. Each ‘Potter’ will have a protector and to make it simpler for you, I'll choose the pairs.” His mismatched eyes scanned the group, assigning pairs, and an aggravating pit settled in your stomach once Moody called out your name, “Y/N, you're with Fred.”

Your head snapped toward Fred, who groaned audibly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He muttered, but George nudged him softly, urging him to be tolerable while they changed out of their regular clothes.

“Yeah yeah, happy to be paired up with you too.” you rolled your eyes, the sarcasm in your tone apparent.

Fred and you had never gotten along. Since your days at Hogwarts, the two of you had been like oil and water—always at odds. He thought you were too uptight, too rule-abiding, while you found him utterly insufferable, reckless, and far too smug for his own good.

But for Harry, you’d endure today. He'd done a great deal to help you throughout your years at Hogwarts, so it was only fair of you to return the favour.

“Head for the Burrows, we’ll rendezvous there!” Moody finished. The room stirred with movement as everyone prepared for what was to come.

Outside, the night air was cool as you mounted Fred’s broom behind him. The scent of his cologne, something warm and woodsy, hit your nose, and you hated that you thought it smelled decent, inhaling a bit more. You hesitated for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist, well, 'Harry's' waist.

Fred stiffened slightly at your touch, “Don’t get too comfortable back there.”

“Oh, believe me, I won’t.”

Before you could snap back another remark, he kicked off into the sky, soaring above London, splitting up from the others.

Everything was eerily silent for a few moments. The flight seemed too smooth for your liking. You kept an alert eye, constantly scanning your surroundings.

You caught a shadow in the corner of your eye, and you whipped your head around, squinting your eyes at the figure in the dark.

"What the..." You muttered.

"Fred go faster...." You ordered, losing sight of the shadowy figure.

"Why don't you come fly the broom then." He retorted, clearly annoyed.

"Fred! I"m serious!" You yelled, gripping his waist tighter, as he exhaled before picking up the pace.

"In case you forgot, I need to be able to breathe to fly this thing properly." He grunted as you practically squeezed every breath out of him.

"Right, sorry," You loosened your grip ever so slightly, "...it's just, I swear I saw something."

You turned around again, catching a glimpse of a shadowy figure. The shadow was no longer a mystery figure but a person, or, three people rather.

Death Eaters.

"Oh shit! Fred! They're here!" You took your wand out and began fighting with them.

Spells shot through the night, streaks of green and blue illuminating the sky like a twisted fireworks display. The death eaters had appeared out of nowhere, zooming in, attacking viciously as they trailed behind you on their brooms.

“They’re following us!” you shouted over the wind, turning back around to gauge Fred.

“Oh, really? Thought we were just out for a lovely evening flight,” he shot back sarcastically, dodging a hex just in time.

You rolled your eyes but focused on firing spells behind you, hitting one death eater square in the chest and sending him spiralling downward.

"Stupefy!" You shouted, casting the second death eater off his broom. Two down, one to go.

Just as you felt a moment of victory, another spell whizzed past, striking the broom.

The wood splintered with a sickening crack. "Uhh, Fred?" You called out, glancing at the broom.

“Hold on—” Fred barely got the words out before the broom snapped completely, and the two of you plummeted toward the Thames River.

You hit the water hard, the impact knocking the wind out of you. You kicked frantically, breaking the surface and gasping for air. The coolness of the water had your body in shock, shivering as you forced yourself to stay afloat.

Fred emerged a second later, coughing.

Glancing above, you saw the third death eater laughing maliciously as he flew off, leaving you and Fred. He must've figured it wasn't the real Harry, given that you called him 'Fred'.

“Great! Look what you’ve done!” you accused, treading water furiously.

“What I’ve done?! That was you—you were supposed to be fighting them off!” he retorted, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. He had transformed back into his original self, the fiery redhead Fred you knew.

You groaned, swimming toward the embankment where a set of stone stairs led to dry land. Your fingers were frozen as you pulled yourself up, collapsing onto the pavement. Fred followed, shaking out his drenched hair like a dog.

“Brilliant. Just brilliant,” you muttered, clutching one-half of the broken broom while he had the other. “Now how are we supposed to get to the others?”

Fred sighed, pushing his hair back. “Let’s just go somewhere dry first.”

You nodded begrudgingly, too cold and exhausted to argue.

When you emerged from the river, it was given that pedestrians would stare at the two of you strangely. Swimming in the Thames River wasn't exactly the most normal thing to do, let alone at this hour.

Though, in this particular instance, more of them were starring at you, rather than Fred.

Fred cleared his throat, eyes darting down to your chest then back up before averting his eyes immediately.

You furrowed your brows, glancing down, only to remember that you were wearing a white shirt along with the worst possible undergarment to pair with it, a black bra.

You felt your cheeks heat up, as you covered your chest, "Let's just go..."

Fred shook his head, taking off the grey jacket he wore and putting it over you, "Here."

Though still wet, it offered the coverage you much needed and you were entirely grateful. "Thanks." You muttered softly, as you two began walking.

"Figured you wouldn't want to walk around flashing the whole of London."

The two of you walked in silence as you tried to figure out a way to get to the others. “We can apparate—” he started.

“Absolutely not. There are muggles everywhere,” you snapped, nodding to the late-night pedestrians strolling along the streets.

Fred scoffed, shooting you an eye-roll. “Alright, Professor McGonagall.”

You ignored him, scanning the area. A small, dingy-looking hotel caught your eye. Without another word, you trudged toward it, Fred trailing behind. The receptionist, a bored-looking woman in her mid 40s, barely glanced up as you approached the desk.

The hotel looked cheap enough for an overnight stay. All you needed to do was clear your mind and get a good night's rest before figuring things out in the morning; yes, that sounded ideal to you right this moment.

“Two rooms, please,” you said firmly.

She tapped at the keyboard, chewing on some gum as she did so. “We’re fully booked.”

Your heart sank. “What about one room? With two beds?”

"Sorry, we're full." She continued typing, then clicking on the mouse as she looked around the screen, "It's peak season honey, we're always maxed out."

"Please you've got to have at least one room, with two beds, anything?" You pleaded, desperate for whatever you could acquire.

"We'll take whatever we can get, you've got to have something." Fred added, backing you up as he stood closer to you.

She checked again, then looked at you, eyes lighting up. “Ah, it seems that we do have one left with two beds, but the heating is broken, that's why we didn't offer it to customers. Actually, I was supposed to call the maintenance guy, but he's my ex, you see, so it's a bit of a rough story. I always thought he loved me, you know, how could someone not, I mean look at me? I'm gorgeous. He was supposed to come by today but we—”

"We'll take it!" Fred interjected swiftly, clearly exhausted. "Thank you."

Relief flooded you as you he paid with muggle money. You were surprised he even had some on hand, but after all, he was a businessman.

"Interesting, all this muggle stuff eh?" Fred mused, as you both entered the lift, his eyes darting around as he observed his surroundings.

"I suppose so, yeah. I guess I was lucky enough to be born a half-blood, you get the best of both worlds." You shrugged, as though hotels and 'muggle elevators' were the most natural thing in the world.

"Alright then, you lead the way, Ms expert." He mocked, gesturing for you to lead the way once the doors opened.

You scoff softly, marching down the hallway before finding your room number. Fred reaches seconds after you, looping his arm around your body to swipe the keycard.

He placed an arm on the door to open it, letting you in first before closing it after he entered.

But the moment you entered the room, your jaw dropped.

One bed.

“What? She said there were two beds.” You blinked, looking around the room in confusion.

“She must’ve meant the couch,” Fred said, nodding toward the small, lumpy-looking couch a few inches beside the bed, by the window.

You swallowed, “Right, well, who's sleeping where?” Honestly, at this point, you didn't even mind taking the couch, as long as you could get some rest.

Fred's eyes darted from the bed to the couch, exhaling exasperatedly before finally looking at you, "I'll take the couch."

"I didn't know Fred Weasley had manners?" You gasped, faking your amusement.

He shot you a glare, grabbing a towel as he did so, "Could you be any more aggravating?"

You tried to think of a witty comeback, something, anything to get a reaction out of him. But alas, you were lost for words. He did have a point though.

Come to think about it, you realised that you might've only been behaving this way because you were not used to him being so much of a...gentleman. This was foreign to you.

"I'll have the first shower." He shifts past you, nudging your shoulder, which sends heat through your bodies temporarily.

“Be my guest.”

You hear the lock shut, and seconds later, the water starts running.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you took in your surroundings. This was no five-star hotel, but it was presentable and decent enough for an overnight stay. The walls are dark grey, with ambient lighting all around the room. Navy blue sheets grace the double bed, with a soft brown leather footer in contrast. There is a tea tray and a kettle, on top of the dark brown desk that sat in the corner of the room.

Minutes later, the door clicks and unlocks.

Fred steps out, a white towel hanging around his waist. His hair is wet, and his body glistening with water droplets. Your eyes couldn't help but drift down, his body was incredible defined, a stark contrast to your school days when he was merely a boy, now, he was a man.

Oh, he definitely works out. You noticed his arms, much larger and buffer than they used to be.

"All yours." He jerked his chin to the bathroom.

You gulped, brushing past him before hurriedly entering the bathroom and locking the door.

Wow, since when did Fred Weasley get so, attractive?

The hot water was a blessing, washing away the cold. You stood under the steamy shower for a couple of minutes, taking in as much warmth as you could.

With no new clothes to change into, you wrapped yourself in the plush hotel bathrobe, sighing in frustration. It appears there was only a kids sized one left, and you had no choice but to wear it. Whatever, it’ll do the job for tonight.

You hung your wet clothes on one of the bathroom racks, and you saw that Fred did the same, you placed your clothes beside his.

You were humming to yourself when you stepped out, relieved to be in some dry clothes, dancing a little as you strolled to the bed.

When he heard you walking, Fred glanced up, something flickering in his expression, though you're not quite sure what.

“That bathrobe is way too small for you." He remarks, laying with his legs out on the couch, two arms behind his head as he rests.

"What was I supposed to do, wear my wet clothes to sleep?" You respond as you hop into bed, tugging the covers and snuggling in.

"It could be an enlightening experience." He hummed, as he shut his eyes, adjusting himself on the couch.

"You try it then." You counter, scoffing at his idiocy.

The curtains are drawn, and the lights are dim. Silence fills the room as you both unwind for the evening. Before you shut the lights from the switch beside your bed, you call out, "I'm going to off the lights now, need anything before I turn them off?"

"Yeah actually..." He perks his head up, turning to face you.

"What?" You ask, listening keenly.

"For you to be quiet." A small smile played on his lips as he laid back down.

You rolled your eyes, before hitting the lights.

"Good night." He cooed.

You lay there, tossing and turning, but you couldn't seem to fall asleep for the life of you. It didn't help that the room was so cold, due to the heater being unfixed.

Minutes passed in silence before you turned your head slightly. Fred was stretched out on the tiny couch, his long legs dangling uncomfortably over the armrest.

It was evident that he was way too tall to fit on all that, he did not look the slightest bit comfortable.

“See something you like?” Fred smirked, feeling your stare though his eyes were shut.

“What? No! I was just—”

“Just what? Admiring this handsome face?”

"Honestly Fred, how conceited are you?" You sat up now, shooting daggers at him. As much as you hated to admit it, he was, in fact, handsome. Annoyingly so.

Truth be told, had he not been so irritating, you might've actually considered dating him.

You loved the Weasleys, Ginny was like a sister to you, Ron, your close friend, George, always on the lookout for you. He even took you down to Hogsmeade for a meal and bought you treats when you cried over one of the Slytherin boys rejecting you back in your fourth year.

But Fred, oh Fred, you could never see eye to eye with him. You only ever tolerated him because his family was so warm and welcoming.

A tiny part of you felt guilty that he was forced onto the couch, despite being the one that paid for the room.

You wanted to offer the place beside you to him, seeing that the bed was larger than anticipated once you were actually tucked in.

"Well you are staring, something you need?" He countered, his eyes are still shut, arms still behind his head.

"Well, I was thinking...." You hesitated, "well, you could sleep on the bed. It's actually more spacious than I thought."

His brows shot up, and he opened his eyes, turning to face you. “In the bed? With you?”

“Don’t make it weird, Fred,” you huffed. “The couch looks uncomfortable.”

"Are you, being nice to me?" He teased, the urge to take back your offer growing stronger.

"Don't make me change my mind, Weasley."

After a beat, he groaned. “Fine. But don’t hog the covers.”

"Please I sleep like a log, it's not like I'm going to cuddle you or anything."

"Cuddle me eh?" He mused.

"Not bloody likely, besides you're too annoying to be my type." You retort.

Fred stood up, walking to the other side of the bed. He slid in beside you, and the bed suddenly felt too small. You kept your back to him, but quickly got up and put one of the spare pillows between you.

"See this line? Don't cross it and you're good." You commanded, and he chuckled lightly,

"Alright alright." He raised in hands.

You turned away from him, back to him as you attempted to fall asleep. You hadn't realised how far you were from him, you were practically tipping over the edge of the bed.

You scooted inside a little, bumping into the pillow wall you put.

After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, you sighed in defeat. The room was cold, and the blankets were not much help.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were the only one awake. You extended your arm behind you, trying to find the pillow 'wall' you had put up. But with all the tossing and turning from the two of you, the pillow must've slipped out of place and down the lower half of the bed somewhere.

As you extended your arm behind you, you accidentally came into contact with Fred's back, and he shifted slightly before turning to face you instead.

It's dark, almost pitch black, but with the small glimmer of light, you can see that his eyes are shut. Curious you called out, "Fred?" you whispered. "Are you awake?"

"I am now, no thanks to you." He fluttered his eyes open, facing you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to see if—"

"Don't be." He sighed, "Couldn't sleep a wink either. This room is bloody cold."

"The blankets aren't doing anything." You exhaled, agreeing, before an idea popped into you head.

"This might sound silly, but, if we revert back to old fashioned methods, we could, um—actually it's stupid, nevermind." You began, but quickly dismissed it.

"Go on, I'd like to hear what genius solution you've come up with."

"It's dumb, I don't think you'll like it."

"Try me." He replied.

You hesitated again before suggesting, “We could—uh—use body heat.”

He stared at you momentarily, it looked as though he thought about it, considering it before responding, “Absolutely not.”

"Okay, whatever, I just thought it was a feasible option. These robes aren't exactly pyjama material either." You say, trying to tighten your robes, with the hopes of warming up your body.

You both fell into silence again your back facing him once more, before Fred spoke up, "Come here."

"What?" You turned around.

"I suppose, we could try the body heat thing."

"Oh so now you want to try my idea?" You raise your brow, scoffing as you shift over slowly, and he extended his arm, pulling you in.

"Don't get any ideas, I just need to sleep and call it a day." You firmly spoke, pressing your back to him, as he faced you. You felt his heat, no doubt, it was working, and you were starting to warm up. In all the places apparently, your cheeks, and an area of yours down there. Your heart pounded as his hand rested against your back, his breath tickling your ear.

"Let's do shoulder-to-shoulder." You suggested, trying to hide your flustered-ness.

He didn't argue, respecting your decision. The two of you lay there, facing the ceiling as your shoulders touched. Though not as warm as before, it was still warmer at least.

You turned your head, Fred's face illuminated by the dim light coming through from the curtains, his jawline ever so chiselled. Merlin, he was undoubtedly a handsome chap. You shut your eyes, trying, yet again to enter a slumber.

As you laid there, eyes shut, Fred opened his, gauging you. He smiled softly as he took in your features, rolling his eyes fondly as he saw you breathing slowly.

You swore you were about to cast some sort of sleeping spell, because you still could not fall asleep for the life of you. You keep moving, accidentally brushing against Fred's body countless times but you couldn't help it, you needed to find a comfortable position.

You move your arm around the blanket, trying to find a comfortable position for yourself until you accidentally graze something, unexpected.

You freeze.

Did you actually just graze that?

Was he....?

You slowly turned to face him, your body merely an inch away from his. You see him shut his eyes, heavily breathing, his Adam's apple bopping up and down from swallowing hard.

"Would you quit moving so much?" He whispered, trying to contain himself.

"I....Fred, I didn't mean to." You pause. "You're still awake?"

"10 points to Y/H (your house), captain obvious."

You furrow your brows, turning on the bedside lamp which offered the tiniest bit of ambient light in the dark room.

Your gaze flickered down, and well, you saw, a little friend poking up from the sheets beneath him.

"Is that, because of m—" You swallowed not daring to finish the sentence, looking at his hard on. "I'm sorry shouldn't have moved so much."

"Alright, it's okay, it's not a big deal, so what it's normal right. I didn't mean to accidentally keep grazing or grinding on you, I was merely trying to find a comfortable position. Listen, I'm not weirded out or anything, you can go sort it out. Who am I to judge? This time tomorrow we'll all be at the burrow and I'll be sharing a room with Ginny and 'Mione, so it's fine, we can—" You began ranting out of nervousness, but Fred had enough, opening his eyes to sit up with you,

"Merlin, Y/N. Ranting like you're so innocent, moving around like that? On me?" He leans in closer, growling, "I bet you'd really want to know what got me provoked in the first place, yeah?"

You gulped, inspecting his features as he leaned in closer to you, now an inch apart, "You aggravate me, pushing my damn buttons all the bloody time. Maybe if you weren't such a whiny brat complaining about everything, I would've fucked you an hour ago till you were silenced.” He ranted before continuing,

“You want to know what got me so hard? You waltzing around in those darn bathrobes that are far too small, exposing every inch of your body, your cleavage is practically begging to be seen. I can't keep my fucking eyes off you. Ever since Hogwarts, it was always you, grating on my last nerves. I thought I hated you so, until I realised that there was a fine line between hate and attraction."

"Fred..." your eyelids flutter; how did his voice get so low and sensual? You could feel yourself throbbing, growing wetter by the minute, and you found yourself growing more needy for him.

"Bloody hell Y/N, you've got me wrapped around the irritating finger of yours."

"Just shut up and kiss me Fred." You breathlessly whisper, not realising that you'd been holding your breath the entire time.

After waiting for what seemed like forever, he wasted no time pouncing on you. His hand is behind your neck and he pushes you down onto the bed, hovering on top of you.

Fred's lips meet yours furiously, desperately, never in your life has someone kissed you this passionately before. You open your mouth, and he slides his tongue in, a desirous clash of tongues. He savours every inch of your mouth and it makes you wonder how long he's been wanting to do this for.

"May I?" He asks for permission as he tugs at the belt of your bathrobe.

You nod, too breathless to speak as you gaze up at him. Fred undoes your robes, leaving you clothe-less on the bed. He does the same, kneeling between your legs which are spread open and on either side of his waist. You subconsciously give him doe-eyes as he does so, merlin, he looked so deliciously attractive.

"So fucking beautiful, all this hidden from me all these years?" He leans down and gently kisses your neck while gripping your waist, sucking on a sensitive spot which earns a moan from you.

"Going to leave hickey's on you so everyone knows you're mine gorgeous."

"Who said I was yours?" Every so daring you retort, though you lacked conviction.

He chuckled lowly before sucking on another sensitive spot, leaving a reddish mark on you, "Fred..." you moan again. His kisses grow more wet and fervent as he plants kisses trailing down your body. His hands move from your waist to your breasts, massaging them gently as he continues further down your body.

You're barely able to control the obscene moans slipping from your mouth, any attempts at suppressing them growing more difficult by the second. You didn't even care that people around you might hear.

"You're soaking wet, and yet you say you're not mine." Fred cooed, his eyes glued to your heat, coated with glistening wetness.

You revel in the fact that he can barely take his eyes off you, you glance at him, eyes half-lidded, clouded with lust. Once he catches sight of your lustful eyes, desperate for him, he can't tear his gaze away from you. He slowly leans down, sensually licking your coated slick.

Your sensitive cunt throbs even harder upon the contact from his tongue, "Fred please..." You whine, throwing your head back onto the pillow.

He traces the shape of your vulva, pressing kitten licks on your needy clit, causing your legs to clamp around his head. He doesn't break eye-contact, as he continues to work his mouth around your core.

He continues sucking your clit, his tongue working his way on your swollen pearl.

You tangle your hands in his head, tugging lightly. Your body can't help but arch into his face due to the overwhelming pleasure, as he continues indulging in your cunt. "Merlin Fred!" You cry out as he suckles on a particularly sensitive spot.

"You taste so damn good love, so sweet unlike that bitter mouth, hm?"

"I'm yours Fred....all yours..." You whimper, succumbing to his words.

"Say that again." His voice low, commanding, you could feel the heat from his mouth near your throbbing cunt.

"I'm yours, Fred." You moan, as he continues straight into your core.

The feeling is heavenly, both hands tangled in his red locks as he gives you the most pleasant head you've ever felt in your life. Once he stops assaulting your clit, he lifts his head and faces you, his eyes smiling up at you, as though you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

Oh, you're so close, tilting over the edge of something mind-blowing. He leans down and gives your clit a few more kitten licks, planting soft kisses before pulling away, just as you were about to cum.

"Don't stop," you whimper, "I was so close...."

"Fred?" You plead, again, but he sits up and crawls to you, now hovering over you his hands on either side of your head. "Please let me cum...."

"You will, darling." He cooes, leaning down to your ear, "Around my cock."

You felt yourself throbbing yet again, upon his words. What the hell was he doing to you, causing you to feel this weak beneath him? This powerless? Your sharp, witty tongue, nowhere in sight.

"Please Fred, I need you." You whine, begging him for more.

"What ever happened to, 'I despise you'?" He hovered over you and you sat up, meeting his lips. Giving him a passionate, hungry kiss before pulling away,

"There is a fine line between hate and love, and I think today I've learnt that you've been sitting in the wrong category all along."

He smiled, brushing a hand on your cheek as he gazed down at you lovingly, "Took me so long to realise that you're the only person I've ever felt something with."

"Took us bloody ages." You roll your eyes fondly, before giggling as he pecked your forehead gently.

You gazed up at him with doe-eyes, and him down at you, to your lips then back up, his mouth parted slightly as he took in how breathtaking you looked beneath him. Shit, you were always beautiful to him, he'd only now realised.

"Need you inside me Fred." You plead softly, desperately, which only fuelled his desire for you even more.

"Anything for you, love."

You never thought you'd admit it, but he has a fucking incredible dick. You assumed he'd be packing because he was 6"3, but the sight of it made you drool. Bloody hell, he had every right to be so smug.

His slit was already leaking with precum, his eyes lock onto yours as he lowers himself. Your legs are still on each side of his waist, he grabs his dick and teases it along your wet entrance, sliding it a few times to coat it with your slickness.

You involuntarily buck your hips, desperate for penetration as you whimper. He slowly lowers himself down, and finally into you.

At first, you hiss at the pain upon being stretched out by his hugeness, you could feel him stretching your walls, registering that fact that he was fully inside you now.

"Fuck...." he moans, letting out a groan, "So tight for me hm?"

"Freddie...." You moan as he begins moving, rocking his hips slowly. You get used to the size of him, filling you to the brim, every slight bit of movement causing your walls to tense around his dick, rubbing within you sensually.

"I know baby, I know." He responds softly, continuing at this pace.

With every rock, his breathing increases, your soft pleas and his eager pants filling the room as he speeds up, going faster and harder.

Your moans start to get louder, getting more deafening by the minute. Fred leans down to plant kisses on your neck, and pecking your lips occasionally, you moan into him as he drives himself further into your core.

"You're doing so well baby." He coos into your ear, murmuring praises as he continues to thrust into you.

Fred doesn't stop pounding into you, you move your hands to his back, your nails practically digging into his skin from the pleasure.

Skin slapping against skin, you feel every jolt of his body into you. He's fucking you so gently but hard at the same time, treating you as though you were the most fragile thing on the planet.

"Baby..." You whimper, eyes fluttering shut, as he continues thrusting into you deeply, you are overwhelmed with so much pressure that you might cry, but it just felt so damn pleasurable.

"I'm getting close Fred." You pant, breathing heavily, as he picks up his pace.

"Look at me." He demands, and you open your eyes, gazing into his hazel ones. For once, they aren't filled with irritation, or the usual annoyance you were used to seeing, they were more gentle, admiring you, it was a look of love.

"Fred, I'm so close!" You cry out, feeling an orgasm coming closer, "I'm gonna—" you can barely finish your sentence, the pressure. on your g-spot and the intense penetration becoming too much for you to handle, along with the gaze of hazel eyes burning into you.

You let out an obscene moan as your walls clench around him, you jerk harshly, causing him to let out a guttural moan. It's a pleasurable ache, your entire body pulses beneath him.

"Gonna come inside you baby, that okay?" He asks, and you nod, to breathless to speak.

Seconds later, he comes undone, squirting his juices inside you. The world slows down as you enter your state of euphoria; you're entangled in pure bliss as you come down from your high. Your body is still electrified from the feeling before.

It takes a while for you to fully settle down. You slowly flutter your eyes open to find yourself engulfed in Fred's buff arms, your breathing in sync. The two of you lean against the wooden bed-frame, and you lean your head on his shoulder, while he cradles you.

You glance down at your body and notice that it's covered in marks, which looked bloody hot. Merlin, you really were Fred's now huh?

"So much for body heat." You chuckled softly, as he stroked your back gently.

He laughs, and you feel the vibrations of his chest, "The best kind of heat if you ask me." He says which earned an eyeroll from you.

Fred plants a soft kiss on your head, "Y'know I'm not one for apologies, but I was a bit of a jerk to you back in Hogwarts, and I want to apologise."

"It was a two-way thing, Freddie, suppose I should apologise for being one too. Merlin, you did grate on every last one of my nerves though." You tease.

"Always a pleasure." He grinned down at you, engulfed in his arms as you looked up at him, sharing a moment of sweet silence as you put the past behind you.

A ray of moonlight shone through the tiny gap in the curtain. You turned your head, glancing out the window as you pondered about the others back at the burrow.

"What're we going to tell the others when we find them tomorrow?" You giggled, taking in the state you were both in.

"I have a feeling they won't be surprised." Fred confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone in my family thinks we have a thing for each other, especially Ginny. Won't stop talking about us that sister of mine."

"Since when?!" You were amused, the two of you were the epitome of the word hate back in Hogwarts and to hear a statement like this shocked you.

"Since school apparently." He laughed, shaking his head, "I thought it was silly too, but look where we are now."

"Just wait one day, you'll eventually get married." He mocked Ginny's tone, mirroring her facial expressions too, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Please, you and me?" You raised a brow, teasing him, though biting back a fond smile.

"Neverrrr." He scrunched up his nose, holding you closer as you both now laid down in bed, safely in each other's grasp.

Finally comfortable, you found yourself drifting off into a much-needed slumber. The same could be said for Fred, it was safe to say the body-heat idea turned out better than anticipated.

And with this newfound love, perhaps the broomstick breaking was a blessing in disguise.

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minnie-movs · 3 months ago

Text

“She’s my type! (homicidal)”

synopsis. deadpool!gojo pushes you till you break (him)

content warnings. semi-proofread, fem!reader, gojo’s annoying, blowjobs in an alley, oral f!receiving, car sex, hate-fucking(?), she hates him and he loves that, cumming early, dirty talk, cowgirl, gojo whines gojo whimpers gojo cums, seriously he cums a concerning amount of times, overstimming gojo, dumbification (him), lots of male crying, he calls reader mommy, threats of murder/killing, descriptions of intended violence

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Deadpool!Gojo is the bane of your existence, constantly annoying you with his smartass jabs, perverted comments, and terrible jokes.

Deadpool!Gojo hears the words “Fuck off, Gojo” at least 7 times daily from any given person, especially you.

Deadpool!Gojo turns off Infinity around you. He wants to feel your touch even if it’s just a shoulder graze or a punch to the face (the latter is a daily occurrence).

Deadpool!Gojo punches the air in triumph when he finds out he’s been assigned a mission with you, sprinting through the halls of the X Mansion straight to your room and bursting in.

“Heyyyyy, partner,” he sings as he skips into the room and over to your bed, flopping down on it like a child, “Ready to fuck up some bad guys?”

You groan, like you’d been doing a lot that day, ever since you found out the Infinity-wielding pain in the ass would be your mission partner. “Just my luck. Fuck me,” you mutter, packing your gear.

Lying on his stomach, he props his face in his palms, feet kicking in the air, “Oh, trust me, pumpkin. I’ve been trying. But let’s save that for after the mission, hm?” Even through his mask, you could practically hear his annoying smirk.

“Although since you brought it up,” he continues, not letting your clear disinterest deter him, “Maybe we could sneak in a quickie before the ball-busting begins? Pre-fight sex helps me focus. Specifically, doggystyle— backshots are great for an ass-kicking mindset. Cleanses the soul. Realigns the chakras n’ all that good shit. It’s science. Look it up. P-O-R-N-H-U—”

You shoot him a venomous glare that screamed, “Shut. Up.”

He immediately holds up his hands in mock surrender, chuckling sheepishly, “Or don’t. You’re right, saving it for after is smarter. Sort of a celebratory homecoming. Speaking of cumming—“

Your fist cuts that comment short, meeting his face with a satisfying crack!

Deadpool!Gojo stares unabashedly at your ass while scaling the side of a building, even throwing in an “awooga,” much to your disgust.

Deadpool!Gojo doesn’t let a time-sensitive situation like you defusing a bomb stop his sardonic commentary.

The room is silent, save for the periodic beeping of the contraption in front of you. You sit hunched over the deadly-looking device, sweat creeping on your brow, trembling fingers clutching the wire-cutter, “Red or blue?”

The white-haired mercenary lounges nearby, doing nothing to help, “You ever think about how turtles could be doing more for this country?”

“Red or blue wire, Gojo.”

“I mean, they come with their own armor! But those weird little fuckers just choose to chill in a lake all day.”

“I swear to god—“

“Imagine the damage you could do if you chucked one of ‘em at the enemy’s head, shell first.”

You grit your teeth, “They’d die. Just tell me the color.”

“The enemy or the turtle?” He shrugs, “Eh, doesn’t matter. Point is, we underestimate those green snails. Didn’t one of them paint the Sixteenth Chapel?”

“It’s Sistine, and that was Michelangelo.”

“Exactly.”

Your jaw muscles tense with barely-restrained frustration. You open your mouth to retort before you decided the device, whose timer had jumped from three minutes to one, needed your attention more.

“Here, let me help—“ he starts.

“You can help by shutting the fuck up.“

“Ooh, someone’s cranky. Is it the bomb? It’s the bomb, isn’t it?”

“It’s you, actually,” you hiss, jittery hands held over the red wire.

He throws a hand over his chest and mock-gasps, “I resent that! I’m plenty helpful—”

You whip around, grabbing his collar and slamming him into the nearby wall, the wire-cutter now hovering dangerously over his crotch. You let it close slightly, the metal jaws just barely touching him, eliciting a low moan from him— half from pain, half from something else.

A low, menacing growl leaves your mouth, tone dripping with threat, “One more word and you lose a testicle.”

“…hot.”

And then you punched him in the face again.

(You do end up defusing the bomb, with seconds to spare at that, no thanks to him.)

Deadpool!Gojo compromises your stealth when he leans against a very obvious “CALL SECURITY” button.

Alarms blare, red lights flash, and within seconds, a swarm of armed men flood the room.

He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish look, “Oops…? Hehe.”

Fucking idiot. You contemplate feeding him to the enemy.

Deadpool!Gojo relies on his katanas and martial arts more than Infinity or other powers in battle—purely to impress you. He swings dramatically, flips unnecessarily, flexing his “raw skills.” It’s like he’s performing rather than fighting.

Mid-battle, covered in blood (not his), he frantically waved at you, “Y/N! Did ya see the finishing move I pulled on that guy? Fuckin’ sick, huh?!”

You do not respond. He pouts.

Deadpool!Gojo wolf-whistles when he sees you nail a villain with a kick to the nuts.

“Ngh- oh yeah, me next.” he likes CBT for sure

You nearly drop your weapon, “What in the fuck—“

Deadpool!Gojo takes the time for a dance break, mid-fight.

“I’m Every Woman” blares through the speaker system— when the hell did he get control of the comms— as he full-on belts the song, complete with hair flips and hip swings. (songs also on that playlist: tell it to my heart by t. dayne, wannabe by spice girls, 10 minutes by lee hyori, baby one more time by b. spears, love don’t cost a thing by j. lopez)

You seethe, yelling from a far corner as you take down another guard, “GOJO, TURN THAT SHIT OFF OR SO HELP ME, I WILL RIP OFF YOUR DICK AND FEED IT TO YOU!”

He loudly moans from under his mask, “Hngh- oh yeah, keep talking about my dick, babe— I’m nearly there—”

Deadpool!Gojo is smug as hell after knocking out a final thug that had you in a headlock.

He drawls, self-satisfied, and points finger guns at you, “You’re welcome. I’ll take my thank you blowjob now.” To which you give him a murderous scowl.

Deadpool!Gojo makes it so you both have to abort the mission to escape. Turns out pressing a “CALL SECURITY” button brings, well, security. A fuck ton of it.

“If we survive this… pant… I’m strangling you with your own mask,” you snarled, sprinting alongside him, dodging bullets and hellfire.

“Aw, babe, you’re so cute when you wanna kill me,” he pulls up his mask to flash you a grin.

You punch him a third time, mid-run.

At Sister Margaret’s, Deadpool!Gojo watches you dejectedly explain to the team how you fled enemy territory empty-handed.

Deadpool!Gojo then pulls the very item you were after out of nowhere, revealing dramatically that he’d pocketed it when you were busy fighting. (vague ass mission, pretend “item” is sumn important pls)

He doesn’t miss your fuming face in the crowd— but pretends to.

Should he have said something to spare you the frustration? Probably.

Was his way more fun? Definitely.

Deadpool!Gojo has an innocent look but is internally giggling he’s dragged him by the collar to the alley behind the bar.

“Woah, easy with the threads, sugarplum. This stuff’s custom-made.”

“You absolute pain in my ass,” you growl, yanking his mask off to reveal his annoyingly attractive face.

His piercing blues glinted with mischief, a smirk playing at his lips, “Oh, sweetheart. if you wanted me in your ass, you could’ve just asked—“

“You had the artifact THE WHOLE TIME?!”

“Oh! Great twist, right? Did you see their faces? They were all ‘omg gojo! gojo’s so smart and cool, we love him! he deserves several blowjobs as thank you! and I volunteer to be first! no, I volunteer. no I voluntee—‘“

“SHUT. UP! You made me think we FAILED, asshole! You humiliated me in front of everyone, you insufferable, selfish, reckless, piece of—“

“Oh sweet, I love a good hate-fuck prelude.”

You surge forward, crashing your lips against his, effectively silencing whatever bullshit would leave his mouth next.

Deadpool!Gojo is speechless when he suddenly finds you on your knees, his cock halfway down your throat, and has to physically fight from cumming too quickly—your loud, wet sucks and gags not helping the fight at all.

Deadpool!Gojo has extreeemely sensitive balls and is a congenital yapper. Not a good combo for when the person sucking his dick is also someone who thinks of ripping out his larynx every time he opens his mouth.

He groans, letting his head fall back against the brick wall, fingers fisting in your hair for support. True to his nature, he tries and fails to keep composure with sarcastic quips, “Ah, there’s my thank you blowjob. Cuz’ I was beginning to wonder— ngh!”

He doubles over with a choked gasp, his cock jerking in your mouth when he feels your teeth graze the sensitive vein along the underside—deliberate and warning. The message in your eyes was crystal clear: Shut up or I will bite.

And he wisely obliged. For about ten seconds before—

“If you’re hah- trying to get me to ngh- apologize for the mission, you sure picked a hnghh- h-hell of a way, babe. s-shit- i did technically save your ass, y’know- oh wait no- not the balls- they’re sensitive- seriously, anything but the balls- wait wait don’t— fuck! shit! fuckshitfuckshitfuuuuuuckkkkk!”

He spills down your throat embarrassingly fast, his chest heaving, throat catching on a half-choked moan, “Ah- hah- t-t-told you- *cough*—“

But it’s fine because the sight of you gulping down every drop of his cum has him immediately hard again.

Deadpool!Gojo eats you out like a man starved— on his knees in the back of your Honda Odyssey, of all places.

Not that he’s complaining. He’s quite happy to be suffocating between your thighs, his nose buried deep in your pussy folds, licking and slurping like it’s his last meal. (mf the type to go “nom nom” or “gobble gobble” or sum shit while eating kitty)

The most pathetic whimpers and mewls leave him as he aches to touch his cock, which is dripping leaky faucet, globules of precum bubbling at the tip, but he can’t— courtesy of you tying his hands behind his back.

He’s also a messy eater, slobbering and drooling all over your clit like a rabid animal. At one point, he tries to motorboat your pussy, the man is unhinged.

And somehow, even with a mouth full of pussy, he’s still.

fucking.

talking.

“Mmh- fuck you taste so sweet- *lick* pussy’s so delicious- *suck* could eat you all night- mmmh- shit you gettin’ close? yeah yeah cum for me, baby- cum on my tongue, pretty please? squirt all over my face with this pretty lil cunny- mmh pleas—“

You cringe. Christ, his dirty talk sucks. You’ll have to fix that for next time—

Next time? Why the hell were you thinking of a next time?

On the brink of orgasm, you tighten your grip in his hair, yanking hard enough to make him groan, “God- ngh- do you ever stop talking?”

In frustration, you forcefully buck into his mouth, hoping to shut him up. Jokes on you though. That just made him cum.

Hands-free.

Just from eating you out.

He shudders, a choked moan ripping from his throat as hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out onto the backseat carpet.

He doesn’t let up, however, making sure to take you over the edge with him, tongue-fucking you through your high and his own. Your gasps and moans are sweet music to his ears, your clit pulsing against his tongue as you drench his face.

And still, he doesn’t stop. He slurps up your juices, his tongue invading every crevice of your cunt, greedy for every last saccharine drop.

God, he fucking loves your pussy.

Deadpool!Gojo cries and whines like a bitch while you ride him into oblivion.

His blue eyes are locked onto your bouncing tits, pupils blown wide in awe. He’s drooling, hands roaming aimlessly—gripping your love handles, palming your ass, cupping your breasts—unable to decide where to settle.

God, he wishes he had more hands.

Your pussy is heaven to him. Hot, wet walls squeeze his cock like they were made to ruin him. It’s so good, so unbelievably good, his vision blurs with tears.

You’re so fucking beautiful.

So so so beautiful…

THWOP!

And so fucking cruel.

THWOP!

You slam down on his cock with a cruel force, the skin of your ass slapping against his thighs.

THWOP! THWOP!

The lewd schlick-schlick’s of your pussy swallowing him echoes in his ears, mingling with his breathless, broken moans.

He’d be well past his fifth orgasm by now—if you weren’t such a sadistic, heartless bitch who hates happiness.

…his words.

Because for the past hour or so, you’ve been fucking him like his dick owes you money, always stopping right as he’s about to cum.

Like right now.

You hover over his swollen tip, eyeing him smugly. He’s a mess. Flushed cheeks, damp lashes, glassy azure eyes pleading up at you.

Oh, but the real sight is what’s below— his cock twitches desperately, every individual vein begging for friction. His balls? Overloaded. Heavy. Drawn tight. Concerningly big. How the fuck does he still have cum left to give?

Gojo swears you hold his life in your hands. If you didn’t let him cum right now, he’s pretty sure he’ll die.

Pride shattered and dignity obliterated, he wails, voice cracking, “Hnghhh- fuck- OKAY! ALRIGHT! I’M SORRY! I’m sorry about the artifact! I thought you’d think it was cool—I was wrong! I’m sorry for humiliating you, I’m sorry I’m a dumb fucking cock-for-brains idiot who only thinks with his dick— IMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMFUCKINGSORRYYYY!!!”

His hips desperately rut upward, chasing the last bit of movement he needs to finally, finally cum. “Now please! Let me cum! I need to cum! I NEED TO CUM! PLEASE LET ME CUM! PLEASE, MOMMYYYY!”

You paused.

…did he just say Mommy?

Oh, he is gone.

You mentally file this moment away— prime blackmail material for the next time he gets smart with you.

For now, you’re content. You got what you wanted: an apology from the Merc with a Mouth and the pleasure of watching him fall apart.

A Cheshire grin curling your lips, you give a single, permitting nod—then slam down onto his cock, hard.

Gojo damn near ascends.

Deadpool!Gojo moans like a girl when he cums in the loudest, sluttiest, most pornographic way.

His eyes roll back, mouth falling open. His entire body convulses, back arching off the car seat, muscles locking up as the orgasm annihilates him.

He cums harder than he ever had, the air ripping from his lungs as he shoots his creamiest load yet. His cock pulses with every desperate burst of sticky, gooey seed—your gummy pink walls now sprayed white. His abs flex violently, spent, while your greedy pussy yanks him deeper, intent on milking him dry.

And then, the worst thing happens.

You keep moving.

Deadpool!Gojo pleads with you to stop fucking him, fully sobbing through the overstimulation.

It’s too much. His nerves are fried, he’s slowly going stupid. Hell, he just might be already. His cock is helplessly quivering inside you and his whole body’s shaking. Pearly tears slip down his cheeks as he begs you to stop moving on his cock.

“P-please—please! t-there’s n-nothing l-left! i c-can’t c-cum a-anymore! i-i’m f-fucking e-empty! i’m fucking shooting blanks! i-i’m begging, please don’t m-make me c-cum again! I’ll break- I’LL BREAKKKKK!!”

He chokes on a sob before his cock pitifully spurts out another empty load.

Having had your fill of his miserable begging, you generously oblige. You dismount, lazily glancing back at the wonderful mess you made.

Deadpool!Gojo is left ruined, utterly destroyed after you’re done with him.

His head lolls to the side, tongue hanging out, drooling as he stares at nothing. His limbs shudder weakly, his cock now soft and limp, still giving the occasional pathetic shiver.

A stupid, cum-drunk grin stretches across his face as he meaninglessly babbles like an idiot, “c-cum… c-came… s’ m-much… ah… can’t f-feel my d-dick… love it… t-thank you…“

Gone is the bravado of the cocky, sharp-mouthed antihero.

Lying there, wrecked beneath you, is your broken little bitch—Satoru Gojo aka Deadpool.

a/n. women bullying men during sex>>> originally wrote this with hawks from mha in mind then realized he n gojo are the same person in different fonts. it was tough writing this tbh cuz i had to balance both personalities. i still think he ended up more gojo than dp anyway sighhh. i hope people like it and if you don’t, that’s ok but please be kind :)

#gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk au #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #divider by @hyuneskkami

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domjaehyun · 9 months ago

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i ❤️ hot nerds (l.dh, n.jm)

PAIRING. pervert!nerd!haechan, pervert!nerd!jaemin x popular!fem!reader GENRE. smut, slight fluff CONTENTS. explicit smut (kissing, fingering, oral (receiving), titfucking, breast play, lots of drool and spit, overstimulation, snowballing, dirty talk, rimming, anal play, missionary, riding, mating press, breeding/creampies) WORD COUNT. 8.7k SUMMARY. when your professor pairs you with the two smartest students in your class for a group project, you find yourself making an interesting deal with them. or, alternatively: the one where you have to help two nerds learn to get girls so you can pass your class. PLAYLIST. n/a NOTES. remember when i said i was up to something with these two? this is it! teehee :3 i hope you enjoy!!

“Professor Kwon, I really need to pass this class,” you say with a worried frown, and she nods in understanding, reaching over to pat your hand gently.

“I’ll see if I can scrape up any extra credit assignments for you to do, but in the meantime, you can try and do your best on the group project coming up. It’s worth thirty percent of your grade, and if you want, I can pair you up with some of the stronger students in the class to help ensure you get a good grade.” she offers helpfully, and your face lights up with a relieved smile as you nod.

“I would love that,” you gush gratefully. “Thank you so much, Professor Kwon! I really appreciate all your help.” You can tell from her kind expression that she knows your words are sincere, and it warms your heart that she’s been so helpful and generous.

“No worries, dear. I’ll email you tonight with some extra credit assignments for you, okay?” she says, and you nod in agreement as you pack up your bags to leave her office hours.

“I’ll be waiting! Thank you again, and have a great rest of your day!” You chirp, slinging your bag over your shoulder before exiting her office.

As you head down the hall, you think about who, in your thirty-person class, she could possibly pair you up with that could help your grade.

“Okay, class, I’m going to pair you up with your partners for the group project. Just a reminder—it is worth thirty percent of your grade, so please take this seriously. I would hate to have to fail any of you.” Professor Kwon says as she looks out at the classroom.

Indistinct mutterings go around, and you look around as you contemplate who she might put you with. There’s Mark Lee, the sweet, endearingly bubbly English major in the year below you who’s also an RA for the building across from your dorm.

There’s Huang Renjun, the smart, quiet art major junior in the same year as Mark, and he could be a good partner, you suppose—

You’re dragged out of your reverie by the sound of your professor saying your name, followed by, “Lee Haechan, and Na Jaemin.”

Oh. Well, you’re certainly not upset by that development. You look across the room, where Jaemin and Haechan are sitting together, to see that they’re already looking over at you. Haechan smiles nervously and averts his gaze quickly, but Jaemin leans into the eye contact, giving you a small wave.

You smile and wiggle your fingers back in greeting, making Jaemin grin and Haechan dissolve into excited giggles, the older male pushing his thick, black-rimmed glasses up on his nose absentmindedly.

Your professor finishes reading off the groups and waves her hands at you all, gesturing for you to get situated with your partners. You move to stand only to see that Haechan is rushing to stand up and make his way over to you, clutching his notebook and papers to his chest almost protectively.

Haechan and Jaemin are also the year below you, and you know them relatively well, given that you’re the RA for their dorm building—well, you know a bit about them: they live across the hall from you, they’re avid gamers, and, if you’re not mistaken, they’re two of the top students in the class.

You watch with an amused smile as Jaemin leisurely slings his bag over his shoulder, the cool, calm, and collected counterpart to your other partner, and they both make their way over to where you sit, Haechan sitting in the chair in front of you and turning it around to face you while Jaemin sits beside you.

“Hi,” Haechan greets quietly, and you shoot him a friendly smile.

“Hi, Haechan,” you reply sweetly, and his face breaks out into a brilliant, shy grin.

“Hi.” he says again, and Jaemin snorts.

“You said that already.”

“Well, I’m saying it again.” Haechan counters, and you chuckle.

“Hi,” you say, “again.”

“...Hi.” he mumbles shyly, barely able to get the words out past his excited smile.

“Hi, Jaemin,” you greet, turning to look at the male beside you.

He shoots you a dazzling smile that makes you wonder, for a moment, how he even got the label of “nerd” everyone classifies him as. Haechan is a bit more understandable, given his general flustered nature around girls, but Jaemin’s always been calm and easygoing—you’d even go so far as to say he’s smooth. However, you suppose that after hearing Jaemin rant and rave about video games and the like, you can see why someone might label him as one even if you don’t find video games all that nerdy.

“Hi,” he replies easily, lifting his eyebrows in greeting. It’s your turn to avert your gaze, the mildly suggestive gesture making you feel a little hot under the collar when you couple it with the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“So, um,” you say, clearing your throat slightly, “I think we should meet up after classes today to talk about what we’re gonna do for our group project.”

“Okay,” Haechan agrees instantly, nodding vigorously. “We can meet up in the library? Or the cafeteria—or—well, maybe you’d wanna meet up somewhere private—” he starts to ramble, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, holding up a finger to stop him. He falls silent immediately, widened, slightly starstruck eyes gazing at you so intently you find yourself growing more endeared to him.

“Why would it matter if it’s in private or not?” you ask, brows furrowed, and Haechan nibbles at his bottom lip, exchanging a wordless glance with Jaemin. “Haechan?”

“In case you… y’know… don’t necessarily want to be seen with us.” he mumbles quietly, and you frown deeply.

“Why would I not want to be seen with you?” you ask, already feeling like you know the answer.

“Because—” Haechan looks around the room to see if anyone’s paying attention to him before continuing, “because we’re nerds,” he says, whispering the word like it’s a slur, “and you’re—well, you know who you are.”

“How about you tell me who I am?” you press gently with a playful smile. “Just to refresh my memory.”

“You’re you. You’re one of the cool seniors—you’re one of the only RAs that everyone likes—and you’re…. y’know… popular.” Haechan whispers that word both like it’s a dream and a word that doesn’t belong in his mouth, and you won’t lie and say it doesn’t bother you slightly.

“Haechan.”

“Mm?” Haechan replies, and you drum your manicured nails on the table in front of you to stop his gaze from wandering furtively around the room.

“First of all, this isn’t a stereotypical clique-y high school movie.” you chuckle. “I can be seen with anyone I want; it never mattered to me.”

“Okay,” he replies hesitantly, but you can sense some of the tension leaving his body as he gradually relaxes.

“Second of all: don’t call yourselves nerds like that—like it’s a label that actually matters. You’re just Haechan, and he’s just Jaemin, and I’m just me.” you finish carefully, and he cracks a smile, looking up from where your hands rest on the table to meet your gaze.

“Okay, cool.” he mumbles, smile growing as your words sink in.

“We can meet on the quad after class if you want,” you say, deliberately choosing the most public location you can think of.

“Well—” Jaemin cuts in, and you turn to look at him to see that he’s looking between you and Haechan. “There are no outlets on the quad… it’s just grass and some trees.”

“True,” you muse thoughtfully. “Where do you guys want to meet?”

“The dorm? Oh, but—” Haechan cuts himself off, shooting a panicked glance Jaemin’s way. “I don’t think my side of the room is presentable right now.”

“Okay,” you say with a laugh. “How about we meet in my room?” you offer, and Haechan’s eyes get so wide you fear he might hurt himself, while Jaemin’s brows shoot up in surprise. Looking between the two of them with growing amusement, you add on, “My last class ends at 4:30pm, and I can be back at my dorm by about 4:45pm, if that works for you guys.”

Neither of them speak for a moment, Haechan seemingly rooted in place with surprise, while Jaemin looks at him expectantly, eyes widening pointedly before he sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah, that works for us.” Jaemin answers finally, and you smile, nodding in confirmation.

“Great!”

“Class is over, everyone! Good luck on your projects, and I’ll see you next Wednesday!” Professor Kwon bids you all goodbye, and everyone starts to gather their things.

“Well, I’ll see you guys then; you know where my room is!” you say, putting your notebook in your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“See you later!” Jaemin replies easily, and Haechan nods as if to second Jaemin’s words.

“Bye, Haechan,” you say with a playful smile, finding it cute how flustered the male is by your attention.

“Bye,” he croaks weakly, and you giggle, turning to leave but not before catching a glimpse of Jaemin swatting Haechan’s arm in a scolding gesture.

“Would you relax? At least try to play it cool,” Jaemin whispers loudly from behind your retreating back.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it!” Haechan exclaims in a hushed voice. “She’s so pretty.”

You can’t help but smile widely to yourself as you keep walking, pretending you haven’t heard a thing.

They’re perfectly on time—in fact, if your ears don’t deceive you, they’re five minutes early, the two of them standing outside and bickering quietly.

“Listen,” Jaemin says in a stern whisper, “you’re going to act normal when we get in there. No being weird and quiet and awkward.”

“Yes, sir,” Haechan replies sarcastically, and you snicker quietly. “You try staying calm when she looks at you with those eyes.”

“I do,” Jaemin replies flatly. “If you can’t… skill issue, I guess.”

“Wh— skill issue? I bet I’m skilled at putting my foot up your ass—”

“Shut up, she might be able to hear you!”

“Why don’t you knock, then? We can meet early.”

“Why don’t I knock?” Jaemin replies incredulously. “Why don’t you?”

“Why would I knock?”

“Why would I?! You’re the one all eager to see her.”

“I’m not that eager.” Haechan mumbles bitterly, and Jaemin scoffs.

“You showered to see her.”

“So did you!”

“I always shower after classes. You also put on cologne.”

“Well— Is it a crime to want to smell good in front of a pretty girl?”

“No, but it is a crime to act like a wuss when she so much as looks at you,” Jaemin snarks, and Haechan sucks his teeth.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

There’s a brief scuffle on the other side, and you hear faint slapping sounds like they’re smacking each other back and forth, and you giggle softly, walking over to your door and waiting patiently.

“Would you cut it out? Here–” Jaemin snaps, and three knocks sound out on the other side of your door.

“Shit! Do I look okay?” Haechan worries.

There's silence before Jaemin replies. “No.”

“Fuck you.”

You decide to end their bickering and open your door, smiling at the two of them. “Hi, boys.”

“Hi,” Haechan mumbles shyly, and Jaemin elbows him, glaring at him.

“Hi,” Jaemin greets pleasantly, and you step aside to let them in.

“Make yourselves comfortable.” you offer, and they enter slowly, Haechan moving cautiously like you might change your mind at any moment. “I have snacks, water, and juice if you want anything to eat or drink.”

“Oh, dope,” Haechan says eagerly, heading to your mini fridge and opening it, retrieving a blue Gatorade and plopping down on your fluffy pink rug. Jaemin takes a bag of chips from the basket on top of the fridge and sits beside Haechan so there’s room for you to sit across from them.

You take a can of pineapple juice and frown down at the metal tab. “Can one of you open this? I don’t want to break a nail.”

“I’ll do it!” Haechan exclaims, leaning forward and taking it from you. He opens it with ease and hands it back to you, blushing when you smile gratefully and slip a straw into the opening.

“Thank you, Haechan,” you hum, and he smiles bashfully, nodding.

“You’re welcome.”

“So,” you say, sitting on your bed in front of them as you sip your drink. “What should we do our project on?”

“We were thinking we could do it on something cool, like…” Haechan says, trailing off towards the end and looking over at Jaemin with a clear request for help in his eyes.

Jaemin rolls his eyes slightly, sighs, and says, “Sex.”

You can’t help but smile slightly. “Sex is cool?”

“Well— well, I guess it’s not cool,” Haechan mumbles, unsure of himself, and you cross your leg over the other, watching as his eyes drop to the hem of your skirt, a latent hunger in them as he eyes your bare legs. “But something, like, trendy and relatable.”

“So sex is trendy?” You can’t refrain from teasing him slightly, admiring the way his cheeks flush. “It’s the cool, hip, new thing all the kids are getting into, huh?”

“Well—” Haechan stammers, and you hold up a hand to stop him, the male falling silent instantly and watching you intently.

“I’m just messing with you,” you assure him, and his shoulders slump in relief. “I’m okay with that! I just wanna be super transparent and let you guys know that my passing this class is riding on this grade for this project, so it’s really important to me. I’ll do my best to pull my weight, but I’m not doing as well as you guys, so—”

“We’ll do all the work,” Jaemin offers, and you stop short, blinking at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Haechan chimes in, pushing his glasses up his nose slightly. “You won’t have to lift a finger.”

“...Why?” you ask carefully, and they look at each other, now both a bit shifty. “Guys?”

“Hm?” Haechan asks, and you raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t meet your gaze, clearing your throat and waiting until he does.

“What’s in it for you?”

“Well… we were thinking we could trade services.” Jaemin interjects when it becomes evident that Haechan won’t be answering your question.

“Services?” you question, sitting forward slightly. Shifting your position, you cross your legs at the ankle instead, your knees falling apart slightly, and Haechan’s eyes zero in on the space between your legs, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips as he watches you. “Your service is helping me get an A, and my service is… what, exactly?”

“Um… we were thinking you could help us socially.” Jaemin says carefully, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“How?”

“Teach us how to get girls!” Haechan blurts out.

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, looking between the two of them. “You’ll make sure we get an A on this project, and in return, I have to… help you get girls?”

“Teach us how to get girls,” Haechan stresses. “Don’t just help us get one girl.”

“What’s that quote? Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day, but teach him how to fish and he’ll eat for a lifetime.” you recall proudly, and Jaemin nods, pleasantly surprised.

“Exactly,” Haechan confirms. “I’m trying to eat for a lifetime.”

“Noted,” you giggle, and you shrug before nodding. “I don’t see why not.”

Haechan pumps his fist and whispers some sort of victory affirmation that you don’t catch but Jaemin stands up, walking over to your bed, and extends his hand in offering, making you blink at it in confusion.

“Shake on it?” he says slowly, and your mouth makes a little “o” of realization as you nod in understanding, now reaching out to shake his hand. His lips curl into an unnerving yet attractive smile as he grips your hand and pulls you a little closer to whisper, “I can’t wait for our first lesson.”

Something about his intent, unwavering gaze and the way his fingers drag against your palm as you retract your hand—the longing of it all, the lingering touch like he doesn’t want to let go—has your mind reeling in that dizzying feeling from earlier, and you wonder for a minute just what you’ve gotten yourself into.

It’s been about a week of meeting up with Haechan and Jaemin every day to work on your project, and you’ve been giving tips and tricks on how to get girls every day, both boys studiously and dutifully hanging onto your every word.

“I have a question,” Haechan states about twenty minutes into your study session, and you look at him expectantly. “When do we get to the makeover portion?”

You make a small hum of confusion. “Makeover?”

“Yeah, where you style our hair and our wardrobe and get us contacts and stuff.” Haechan says eagerly, and you chuckle.

“Your wardrobes are completely fine, my only advice for your hair is to style it off your forehead more often, and I happen to like your glasses.” you reply, and Haechan sighs in mild impatience, waving his hand dismissively.

“You don’t get it—we need to be fuckable!” Haechan stresses, and you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“Haechan, you’re already fuckable.” you explain calmly, and he opens his mouth in preparation for some witty remark, but after processing your words, his eyes widen and his mouth hangs open uselessly, his accusingly pointed finger now pointing meekly at the floor at an angle.

“I—So—so you would fuck us?” he stammers, and you nod slowly, looking from him to Jaemin.

“Why do you think I let you get away with your numerous dorm violations?” you snort in amusement, and he blinks hard.

“I thought you just took pity on us, y’know? Like you had a soft spot for nerds or something.”

“I don’t have a soft spot for nerds.” you answer. “I have a soft spot for hot nerds, though.”

His mouth opens and closes pathetically as his normally quick-witted brain scrambles to process the information you’ve just presented to him. Jaemin is quicker to act, sitting forward so suddenly the move could be considered as predatory, and you’re not sure if it’s the lighting reflecting off of his glasses or what, but there is most definitely a glint in his eye as he regards you, his lips gradually stretching into a toothy grin.

“So you let us get away with stuff? Because you like us? Like what?” he questions, and you tilt your head to the side as you think.

“Your candles, for starters. Haechan’s tapestry, your many many noise complaints from your neighbors when you two get too heated as you’re gaming,” you start to list off on your fingers, and you cross one leg over the other, not missing the way both of their eyes shift to your newly exposed skin and how… hungry they look. “The way you—” you point at Haechan, “always try to get away with looking up my skirt.”

Haechan’s face flushes a pretty shade of red, and you smile, amused, as he scrambles to defend himself. Before he can, you hold up a hand to silence him.

“Haechan?”

“Yes?” he replies meekly.

“If I minded, I would have said something by now. I certainly wouldn’t have kept wearing skirts and accidentally flashing you.”

His eyes roll back into his head with a whimper and he nods in understanding.

“And you—” you round on Jaemin, who’s still perched like a lion about to pounce, and the male just smiles wider, tilting his head to the side curiously.

“What about me?”

“You probably think you’re slick with the little lingering touches on my back and waist when you’re ‘trying to get by,’ but I only let you do that because I like it.”

His grin widens more than you even thought possible, the glint in his eye now unmistakable. “Oh, yeah? Where else do you like being touched?”

“I mean,” you hum, uncrossing your thighs and smiling as both of their gazes hone in on the space between your legs, “I could tell you, but I think you’d rather have me show you.”

“I have a better idea,” Jaemin murmurs, moving towards you slowly. “How about you let us find out?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, relishing the way they look at each other with equally worried expressions as they silently pray you won’t back out, before you shrug nonchalantly. “Okay.”

No sooner than the last syllable’s left your mouth do they spring into action; Haechan clambers onto the bed beside you and Jaemin lunges forward to settle himself between your legs. Large, warm hands glide up your inner thighs, pushing them apart as he hikes your skirt up to reveal your light blue boyshorts. He moans loudly at the sight, immediately running his thumbs over your clothed mound, eyes flicking up to your face when your breath hitches softly.

“Princess likes being touched here, huh?” he marvels quietly, leaning in with a slow lick of his lips. “How about kissed, hm? Do you like being kissed here, too?”

“Yeah,” you exhale with a smile, and he grins, wetting his lips once more before leaning in closer and pressing his wet lips to your core, bottom lip barely grazing your concealed clit. As he does, he takes a deep, loud inhale followed by a lust-filled groan that has heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Jesus, Jaemin—”

“Not now.” His reply is distracted, but blunt and domineering all the same, and you find yourself falling silent in surprise. When he pulls back, there’s a wet spot on the fabric where his mouth used to be, and the cool air hits it, making you hiss quietly.

“As hot as these look on you, I want them off.” Jaemin mutters, hooking his fingers into your underwear and tugging it down and off your legs. “Wanna taste it.” he mumbles—you think it’s towards himself—before he’s burying his face between your legs with another loud moan that makes you curse under your breath, overwhelmed with desire.

His tongue lies flat against your folds, languidly and deliciously dragging upwards to circle around your clit. He grunts in delight and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, hooking his arms around your thighs and pushing forward again, the bridge of his nose pressed against your mound.

You gasp and clutch at the nearest thing in your grasp, which just so happens to be Haechan’s thigh. “Fuck,” you whisper loudly, and Jaemin chuckles.

“Stop neglecting Haechan,” he scolds playfully through a mouthful of your pussy. “This was his idea, you know.”

You manage to redirect your attention to Haechan, whose eyes dart around as he watches you and Jaemin with a wild look in his eyes, the male seemingly frozen on the spot.

Your nose nudges at Haechan’s, the male tilting his head towards you and parting his lips in a soft sigh as your lips meet. It takes a moment for him to reciprocate, almost long enough for you to pull back, but he finally starts to kiss you back with a whimper caught in the back of his throat.

“Haechan, touch me,” you urge, gripping his wrist and bringing his hand to your waist. He clutches your waist, but there’s a hesitance to it that leaves you wanting more.

“Yeah, Haechan, touch her.” Jaemin chuckles before massaging your clit with his tongue. Your eyes roll back into your head with a groan and he rewards your reaction by pressing the wet muscle against you more insistently. “Maybe he needs some incentive.”

“Incentive?” you hum curiously, and he nods, that wicked glint returning to his eyes.

“Take your shirt off.” he presses, and you oblige without hesitation, discarding the shirt behind you on the bed and looking at Haechan expectantly, finding yourself endeared by the way he nibbles his bottom lip nervously. “Haechan, doesn’t she look so good like that?”

“Amazing,” Haechan breathes reverently, and you smile at the praise, eyes closing in bliss.

“Kiss her.” Jaemin suggests, and Haechan does just that, tentatively approaching you and gently connecting his lips with yours. As your mouths move together, you can’t help but notice the same reservation in Haechan’s movements, drawing a plaintive whimper from your lips. “Stop kissing her like you’re scared, Haechan,” Jaemin scolds. “She likes it. Don’t you, princess?”

“Yes,” you reply instantly, reaching up to cup Haechan’s cheek. He shudders at the contact, eyes fluttering shut before reopening with a darkened intensity that clues you in to the fact that Haechan seems to be done holding back.

Sure enough, Haechan clutches your chin and pulls you closer to him, tongue boldly slipping between your lips and exploring the wet warmth of your mouth. His thumb pries your lips apart with a forcefulness that delights you, and he hovers above your open mouth, eyes scanning yours before letting a string of saliva drip down from his lips onto your waiting tongue.

You whine when the spit connects with your tongue and he grunts, “Don’t swallow,” before kissing you again, tongue swirling confidently around yours even as a mix of your saliva drips down your chin and onto your chest. He’s quick to act, leaning down and dragging his tongue up the trail of spit before connecting your lips again in a more heated, desperate kiss that slowly takes your breath away. It’s wet, and hot, and messy and sloppy and everything you could have wanted from him and more as he leans in, pressing into you and leaning you back onto your mattress.

Jaemin seems to be done assisting Haechan, as he returns to eating you out with a renewed fervor and, as Haechan kisses down your body to your breasts, it dawns on you that they might be competing for your attention.

With every swirl of Haechan’s tongue around your nipple, Jaemin echoes the action around your clit, their synchronization sending you spiraling into a frenzy. When Jaemin flicks your clit back and forth with his tongue before taking it into his mouth to suck, Haechan does the same to your breast, lapping at your nipple eagerly before sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Fuck—” you hiss, realizing—perhaps a moment too late—that you may have bitten off more than you can chew as you let the two sexually frustrated males have their way with your body.

Before long, you feel that tightening sensation in your stomach as your climax approaches, and you whimper in lieu of a verbal warning, Jaemin picking up on your cue instantly and diving back into your core with an eagerness that both startles and delights you. With another well-timed suck at your clit, you’re climaxing with a cry of pleasure and a full body tremor as you curl in on yourself.

Before you’ve even recovered from your high, Jaemin’s pressing on your stomach to keep you in place as he resumes lapping at your core, his tongue gliding with ease against and between your slick folds.

“Fuck—Jaemin, it’s sensitive—” you moan, squirming away from his touch, but he ignores you, two fingers prodding at your entrance before slowly easing their way in. “Oh, shit—”

“That’s it, just take it, princess,” Jaemin coos, swirling sinful circles around your clit as his fingers move in and out of you slowly. “Feel so good around my fingers like that, angel.”

“Can I—” Haechan swallows thickly before continuing, “Can I fuck your tits?” Before you can answer, he adds, “Please?” fully laden with desperation and you can’t even fathom saying no to him—so you don’t, instead nodding and watching his face light up with excitement.

He rushes to pull off his pants as if you’ll change your mind at any moment, and when he pulls his boxers down, his fully erect length springs up, girthy and long with an upwards curve. You watch with fascination as he straddles just below your chest, laying his length between your breasts and pushing them together with a groan.

With his eyes locked on your breasts and where his length disappears between them, he starts to move, slowly fucking himself on your breasts. His gasps and whimpers are both adorable and arousing, his fingers greedily clutching the mounds of flesh as his thumbs swipe over your nipples rhythmically.

Apparently dissatisfied with the sensation, Haechan pauses, smearing his precum over your chest and pauses thoughtfully before leaning forward and letting several large droplets of saliva drip down from his tongue to your breasts, the clear liquid landing on either side of his cock and slowly sliding down the insides of your breasts to coat his length. “That’s more like it,” he grunts, and resumes fucking your cleavage, his eyes rolling back into his head at the sensations, his length gliding between your breasts with ease.

Meanwhile, Jaemin curls his fingers inside of you, fucking them into you quickly and mercilessly as you cry out in pleasure. His tongue keeps swirling around and flicking at your clit, massaging your little bundle of nerves as his fingertips fuck into your other patch of nerves along your inner walls that has you seeing fireworks.

“God, that feels so good,” you whimper out, and Jaemin nods vigorously, tongue messily gliding along your folds with every movement of his head.

“Mm, I know, princess—tastes so good, too.” he purrs, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to peek past Haechan at Jaemin, noting fondly that his glasses have almost completely fogged up.

Haechan shoves his glasses up his nose hurriedly with one hand, mumbling something about wanting to see better, before he speeds up, small moans leaving him as he approaches his high.

Jaemin digs his tongue into your core, greedy muscle slurping up your arousal as it gushes from your hole, and you moan loudly, walls clenching desperately around the intrusion. His fingers slide up and down your slit, parting your folds, and he uses the combination of your slick and his spit to lube up his fingers for when he presses them to your asshole. He chuckles darkly when you squeal and squirm, fingers pushing into your tight rim without pause.

“You can take it, right, princess?” he coos, and you nod, panting, even though you’re not sure he can see you. “That’s it, pretty, just like that. So fun to play with,” he murmurs, the last part almost sounding like it’s to himself as he moves his fingers inside of you, tongue gliding up and down to swirl around your clit and your entrance teasingly.

“So good,” Haechan moans, still using your breasts to stroke his length. “Wanna cum—fuck, you’re so hot—gonna cum, pretty—where d’you want it?”

You find that you can barely form thoughts, let alone words, so, in lieu of a verbal response, you open your mouth, tongue dropping out slowly, and he moans again, this one higher and audibly overwhelmed before he thrusts his cock faster between your breasts, the tip of his length occasionally rubbing against your tongue. With a low groan, Haechan cums, abdomen tensing as he pants his way through his climax. He releases onto your waiting tongue, one spurt of cum landing on your cheek and bottom lip.

He admires the sight of you with his release painting your face and swipes up the stray seed with his finger, pushing it into your mouth and groaning when your lips wrap around it and suck it clean.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs reverently, shuffling down your body to kiss you sloppily, tongue swirling around the inside of your mouth to taste himself.

Looking behind himself, Haechan takes one look at Jaemin’s fingers diving in and out of your core, slick arousal and Jaemin’s saliva dripping from your entrance, and groans, rushing to get off of the bed and shove Jaemin out of place none too gently to take his place between your legs and study your glistening core, eyes roving over how your entrance is still clenching reflexively around nothing and how your clit twitches with every clench, both overstimulated and in search of something more.

You’re barely done with coming down from your last high when Haechan moans loudly, at his limit, and buries his face between your legs, tongue delving into your folds as you squirm and whimper.

“Haechan, holy shit—” you gasp, squirming away from him, but he just winds his wiry arms around your thighs and tugs you back to the edge of the bed, roughly massaging your clit with his tongue. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, slow down—”

“Tastes so good,” Haechan moans, gaze flicking up to look at you. His hair is all messed up from the numerous times your legs closed around his head and his glasses are fogged up with the heat radiating from your body and his heavy panting, but you can clearly see a wild look in his eyes, his gaze hungrily drinking in the sight of you in front of him. “Don’t wanna stop—don’t make me stop—please—”

“Haechan, baby, please take it easy,” you pant, but Haechan pays you absolutely no mind, his thick tongue slithering into your entrance and drawing out a sharp whine from you as you struggle to sit up, trying the whole while to swat his head away so you can catch your breath.

Your hand barely clutches at a lock of Haechan’s hair before Jaemin’s pulling your hands behind your back and settling you against his chest, his incredibly strong and firm grip leaving you stuck in place as Haechan has his way with your pussy.

“Let him have his fun,” Jaemin purrs in your ear as Haechan laps at your entrance before stuffing his tongue back in as far as it’ll go. “Can’t tell you how long he’s been waiting for this moment.”

“But—” you whimper, walls clenching helplessly around Haechan’s greedy tongue.

“Doesn’t that feel so good, princess?” Jaemin coos fondly, lips brushing the shell of your ear. You turn your head slightly to look at him with pleading eyes in the hopes he’ll have mercy, but he just chuckles, moving both your wrists to one of his hands before cupping your chin with the other and tilting your face back to his to connect your lips in a slow, passionate, deeply overwhelming kiss.

You can taste your arousal on his tongue as well as a hint of the gum he was chewing earlier, and you keen weakly into the kiss, sloppily moving your mouth with his as Haechan slurps your arousal eagerly before he sucks your clit into his mouth, presses it between his lips, and moans loudly, the vibrations mixed with all of the lewd noises making you hurtle towards yet another high.

“Oh, shit—” you cry out against Jaemin’s lips as Haechan tongue-fucks you to another orgasm, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he claws at you in a desperate attempt to keep you against his mouth. Jaemin’s hand leaves your chin and moves to grope your breast, his large hand kneading and massaging the flesh and tugging at your nipple as he dots slow, wet kisses down your neck and shoulder.

“Could stay down here forever,” Haechan grunts, and your eyes widen even in their exhausted, drained state as you start to struggle against Jaemin’s grip and fight to close your legs.

“Please leave my poor clit alone,” you plead, finally wrenching one of your hands free from Jaemin’s clutches and clapping it over your core protectively. Haechan barely even pauses, just starts licking at your fingers with desperate little moans and grunts. “Can one of you please just fuck me?”

They both go stiff, looking at each other wordlessly, before Jaemin releases you completely and switches spots with Haechan, maneuvering his length out of his sweats and boxers, and oh—

“You’re big, too,” you mumble in surprise, and he arches an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Did you think it was going to be small?”

“Well, no, but I definitely didn’t think it’d be that big.” you mutter, and he snickers, lifting your hips to push you further back on the bed. He spreads your legs wider and looks at your core, eyes roving over your glistening folds and inner thighs with such unadulterated desire that you’re tempted to close your legs out of embarrassment.

“Haechan got you nice and wet for me, yeah?” he murmurs, pumping his fist up and down his cock slowly before slapping the underside of his length on your poor, hypersensitive clit and grinning when you jolt from the stimulation. “Think you can take all of me, princess?”

“Only one way to find out,” you reply breathlessly, and he laughs, nodding in agreement.

“You’re right about that,” he grunts as he pushes into you. Both of you react instantly; his jaw clenches while yours drops, and he sucks in a deep breath through his nose as a breathy half-whimper, half-sigh escapes you.

Haechan watches you two with rapt attention, eyes flicking from your face to your breasts to where Jaemin’s length is slowly disappearing into you.

“Sweet pussy’s sucking me right in, princess,” Jaemin drawls with a smug grin. “Wanted this that badly, huh?”

“Shut—up—” you gasp as he bottoms out, the absolutely full-to-the-brim sensation dizzying and overwhelming and delicious all at once.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jaemin obliges, brows knitting together as he pulls out slowly and thrusts back in with a quick snap of his hips. You cry out in pleasure and the corner of his mouth quirks upward in smug satisfaction and amusement before he does it again… and again… and again until he’s built up a steady rhythm, every thrust punctuated by a plaintive moan from you.

His hands glide over everywhere he can reach before seeking purchase in your hips, fingertips digging into the flesh there as he drives his length into you.

“You love this, don’t you?” Jaemin coos as Haechan presses your breasts together and wraps his lips around one nipple, sucking as he tugs at the other bud. “You gonna tell your friends how good we fucked you?”

“Mm—yes,” you pant, and Jaemin grins.

“Gonna tell ‘em that two little nerds from your Biology class fucked you stupid, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding vigorously. “Mm-hmm—”

“Thought so,” he replies with a dark chuckle before draping one of your legs over his shoulder, angling his hips toward it, and fucking intently into a spot that, you realize after the burst of pleasure from his first thrust, must be your g-spot.

“Ho–ly shit,” you gasp, clutching at Haechan for something you can use to brace yourself. Jaemin’s thrusts send him into you nice and deep and you’re slowly but surely losing your mind with every stroke, your mouth falling open in a silent gasp as he fucks into you. Your fingers catch Haechan’s thigh once more, clutching onto the warm flesh in an attempt to ground yourself.

Haechan groans and responds by swirling his tongue around your nipple slowly before flicking it back and forth quickly, using a finger to replicate his actions on your other breast.

“Please—fuck—I’m gonna cum—” you warn Jaemin, and he nods eagerly, letting a hand drag across your body from your hip to your clit, thumb sliding between your messy, wet folds to reveal the sensitive button between them. You inhale sharply when he starts to rub it in circles with the same thumb, fingertips resting lightly on your stomach as if he’s not driving you absolutely insane. “Oh, my God—cumming—I’m cumming—!”

“Me too, princess,” he groans, his hips speeding up as he chases after his own high. You climax first, letting out a drawn out whine, with Jaemin following shortly after, the male burying his length in you and pumping you full of his cum as he groans in pleasure under his breath.

“My turn,” Haechan grunts as Jaemin pulls out of you, both males watching as milky white cum drips from your entrance. “That’s so fucking hot,” Haechan mumbles in awe before reaching for your hands to gently guide you to a sitting position. “Can you ride me, pretty?”

“If my legs don’t give out,” you mumble, and he chuckles, sitting against where your bed meets the wall and patting his lap invitingly. You carefully straddle his lap, fingers wrapping around the thick head of his length as you guide his tip to your entrance and start to ease down onto him. Haechan gapes up at you, prompting you to coo affectionately. “Do you mind if I do it myself?” you ask sweetly as you sink down on it further, your nipple grazing his lips as you move against him, and he shakes his head emphatically, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose slightly. “Good,” you praise softly. “You’re not going to cum early, are you?” you ask with a small frown, and Haechan shakes his head again, the glasses sliding further and further down his nose. You gently push the glasses up, and he smiles appreciatively, tongue darting out to lick at your nipple while it’s near his mouth.

“Feels amazing,” he moans, and you smile fondly. You didn’t get a chance to see his length in all its glory, but you can definitely feel every thick inch of his cock as it stretches you open. He’s not quite as long as Jaemin, but he makes up for it in girth, his length barely fitting in your fist as you finish settling down on him.

When you’ve finally managed to fit all of his girthy length inside of you, you lift up slightly, rocking your hips forward for more friction, and Haechan moans out loudly, leaning forward to suck your nipple into his mouth. He cups your breasts, holding them up and together, and alternates running his tongue over both buds, occasionally sucking on a nipple with a low moan of satisfaction.

“More,” Haechan gasps out.

“More?” you ask, confused and lightheaded from all the pleasure you’re receiving.

“Yeah—need you to move faster,” he grunts through gritted teeth, and you suck your teeth.

“You wanted me on top when I told you my legs might give out—” you start to protest, and he pulls your face to his, kissing you to shut you up.

“Need it like this,” Haechan growls under his breath, swiftly maneuvering you two around so you’re lying on your back and he’s on his knees on the bed between your legs. “Hold these for me?” he asks, pressing your knees as close to your chest as they’ll go. As you tentatively hug your legs to your chest, Haechan spreads your folds apart with two fingers, sucking in a loud breath at the sight before he spits directly on your core, a gasp escaping you at the sensation of the warm saliva dripping down your folds.

He rests the underside of his cock on your clit, slowly rocking his hips forward to drag his thick length against your clit, and chuckles when you keen with pleasure.

“You’re so nasty,” Haechan sighs the words like you’re his dream come true, and based on the way his face contorts when he pushes into you, you just might be. He wastes no time, drilling into you at a quick, ruthless pace that has you moaning mindlessly with literally no idea what’s coming out of your mouth. “So fucking nasty for letting me do this to you,” he grunts, brows furrowed as one hand cups your chin. “Open.”

You oblige, tongue lolling out without being asked, and he grins, leaning over you and letting more saliva drip from his mouth to your waiting tongue. Haechan dips down lower, maintaining his thrusts as he messily moves his lips against yours, his tongue and spit getting everywhere, and he whines desperately into the kiss, his hand moving from your chin to between your legs where he starts to toy with your poor clit.

A choked wail of overstimulation slips from you before you can even process it, and Haechan silences you by kissing you again, mumbling, “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you—perfect little fuckdoll—gonna fuck you so full of cum, gonna breed you—”

“Holy shit—breed me, yes, breed me—” you pant, nodding eagerly, and you might be imagining it, but Haechan’s thrusts seem to get impossibly deeper like he genuinely might take you up on that offer.

“Gonna breed you, pretty girl—stuff you full of my cum—give you a fucking baby—make you all mine—”

“Want it—Haechan, please—yours, I’m yours—” you can barely keep up with his heated dialogue, your eyes rolling back into your head in ecstasy as you fall apart on his length.

Haechan’s lips seal over yours, tasting your desperate cries as he fucks you foolish, making a weak, overwhelmed moan come from you and your body produce a deep, full-body shudder that travels as pleasure races through you, electrifying your bloodstream.

Haechan isn't far behind, his tongue playing with yours almost lazily as his thrusts slow to a stop before he buries himself in you, emptying his seed into you and filling you with an impossibly large load of cum. He groans against your lips, slowly pulling out to the tip and staring down at how his length is coated with a blend of all of your cum with a deep-seated satisfaction.

“Holy shit,” he pants, flopping onto his back. “That was incredible.”

“You’re telling me,” you laugh. “Where did you two learn all that?”

“We watch a lot of porn.” Jaemin says, sheepish for the first time.

“And it taught you all of that?” you remark, incredulous.

“It taught us more, too,” Haechan adds, leaning over you with a grin. “Wanna see?”

“So, you’re telling me those two nerds from your class dicked you down… and they did it well?” Jimin remarks over your lunch in the cafeteria, eyes wide, and you scowl at her.

“Their names are Haechan and Jaemin.” you correct her, and she chuckles sheepishly. “But yes, they may have been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Well, who would’ve thought…” Jimin comments, her expression thoughtful, and you snap loudly to get her attention. “What?”

“Those two are mine now. You can’t have them.” you state, and she frowns.

“Both of them? Aren’t you greedy?”

You shrug. “Don’t care. Mine.”

“What if they find out you’re actively laying a claim to them? Hm? Aren’t you supposed to be helping them get girls?” Jimin points out, and you frown slightly before pulling your phone out and scrolling through your messages before pressing the “Dial” button. “Who are you calling?”

“Shh.” you say distractedly, placing the call on speakerphone and waiting patiently as it rings once, twice, then stops, the other person on the line picking up. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Haechan greets, sounding slightly concerned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you assure him. “Is Jaemin with you?”

“Yeah, he’s right here—did you wanna talk to him?” he asks.

“Both of you, actually. Can he hear me?”

“Hi, princess,” Jaemin calls through the phone, and Jimin’s brows lift in surprise.

“Princess?” she mouths at you, and you smile, nodding.

“Hi, Jaemin. I just wanted to ask you guys a question.”

“Shoot,” Haechan says with audible wariness in his voice.

“You’re both… mine, right?” you say carefully, and Haechan sucks in a sharp breath before you hear a thudding noise. “Haechan?”

“I’m here!” he squawks, sounding slightly far away. There’s a rustling noise, and then his voice comes in clearer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “What happened?”

“He dropped the phone because he’s an idiot.” Jaemin calls out, and you laugh as Haechan shushes him forcefully.

“An answer to my question would be nice, you know.” you tease lightly.

“I’m yours if you want me to be,” Jaemin replies smoothly, and you smile even though they can’t see you.

“Honestly, I’m yours even if you don’t.” Haechan adds, and your smile only widens as you shoot Jimin an “I told you so” glance.

“That’s good to hear.” you reply, your smile creeping into your voice, and Haechan clears his throat pointedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, are you ours?” Haechan asks hopefully, and you look over at Jimin as you reply.

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, thank God.” he mumbles, and you giggle.

“So, I’m guessing you two are done with your lessons on how to get girls?” you suppose, nibbling your bottom lip nervously.

“Yeah,” Haechan confirms, and you’re surprised by just how relieved you are. “We got the only girl that matters.”

“You’re too cute.” you chuckle. “Wanna come over later?”

“Yes—” Haechan blurts out before composing himself to say, “yes, absolutely.”

“Good. Six sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” he sighs happily. “See you then, pretty.”

“Bye, baby,” you coo into the phone, and his excited squeal is quiet but unmistakable. “Bye, other baby.”

“Bye, princess. See you at six.” Jaemin calls out, and you smile widely before hanging up and smiling proudly at Jimin.

“My boys didn’t disappoint me.” you remark, pleased, and Jimin huffs petulantly.

“Man. I’m happy for you, but I wish I had two cute nerds at my beck and call.”

“Stop calling them nerds,” you correct, and she rolls her eyes.

“Wish I had two cute guys at my beck and call.” she amends her statement, and you smile, satisfied.

“Yeah, I’m pretty lucky, huh?” you muse, and Jimin sighs, a smile curling at her lips.

“Yeah… would you ever wanna share?” she asks with a wiggle of her brows. “Ow! There was no need to flick me.”

“There was every need. Avert your eyes from my men, you lustful wench.”

“Lustful wench? You’re horrible. And greedy! And selfish. Just horrible and greedy and selfish.” she complains, and you shrug, uncaring as you compose a text to your new… boyfriends?

you have created a group message. you have named the group message “power throuple.” you [17:05pm] hi boyfies :) haechan [17:07pm] boyfies…. i’m weak in the knees jaemin [17:08pm] haechan stand up jaemin [17:08pm] hi baby girl you loved “hi baby girl” haechan [17:10pm] why would i stand up if i could lie down and have our pretty girlfriend sit on my face? 😁 you [17:11pm] you’re bolder over text, huh? haechan [17:12pm] can you blame me? have you seen yourself? you [17:12pm] i have… haechan [17:13pm] so you know how good you look. don’t judge me when i can’t get my words out in person you [17:15pm] i happen to find it cute when you can’t get your words out jaemin [17:16pm] i find it cute when YOU can’t get your words out you [17:16pm] and when would that be? jaemin [17:17pm] don’t tell me you’ve forgotten so soon… you [17:17pm] i have :( maybe i need a reminder? jaemin liked your message “i have :( maybe i need a reminder?” jaemin [17:18pm] maybe we should come over earlier to jog your memory you [17:20pm] maybe you should. how about 5:45? jaemin liked your message “maybe you should. how about 5:45?” haechan liked your message “maybe you should. how about 5:45?” you [17:22pm] great!! it’s a date :)

“What am I, chopped liver?” Jimin complains as you giggle down at your phone.

“Sorry… and I’m even more sorry for having to cut this short.” you apologize sheepishly as you start to gather your things.

“You’re kidding…” Jimin remarks, incredulous. “Flat-leaver!”

“I’ll text you after everything,” you assure her, stuffing your notebook in your bag and your phone in your bag’s front pocket. “Gotta go get ready!”

“You’re the worst.” she huffs, but there’s a smile on her face as she rolls her eyes. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Rawr.” You make a claw with your fingers, and she stops short, blinking at you with a blank expression. “Too much?”

“Never do that again.”

You nod in understanding. “Copy.”

tadaaaaa i hope you enjoyed! if you liked it, please shoot me an ask or write something nice in the tags :D i love (positive) feedback!

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