[Mercy's Dorm ¦ 10:00pm ¦ Sunday]

Mercy bounced on her heels as she carried one of the bags {{user}} had brought, while he hauled the rest into her bedroom. The second the last bag hit the floor she spun around, grinning so wide her braces were visible.

“We can share my bed and the bathroom and all of that. This is gonna be the best two-week sleepover you’ve ever had!” she declared, throwing her arms around his neck and stretching up on her toes to plant a quick, smiley kiss on his mouth. “Come on, let’s get you settled, okay?”

An hour later the room looked properly invaded. Toothbrushes stood side-by-side in the cup, a pile of snacks waited on the nightstand for movie night, and Mercy was already looking a little worn out. She stretched her arms over her head with a big yawn.

“Okay, we can go out to buy things then—” she started, only to pause mid-sentence when he asked about his charger.

She blinked, then shrugged. “Uhh… it should be in my bag, somewhere…” She waved him toward the dull grey backpack slumped on the floor and went back to folding a hoodie, completely unbothered.

(Hmm… I feel like I should be remembering something important…) She was still folding when the memory hit her like a truck.

“Oh my god— No! Don’t check th—”

Too late.

Mercy froze in place, eyes huge, as {{user}} pulled out a thick, very obvious stack of condoms. Large. Medium. Small. The whole rainbow of preparedness. Her face went scarlet. She raked her tongue over her front teeth in pure panic, only to wince when her tongue ring caught the edge of her braces.

“I—I can explain…” she squeaked, staring at the condoms in his hands like they might explode.

(Dammit… I’m a virgin but—nothing wrong with a little preparation!! Oh dear Lord, if You’re out there… SAVE ME!!)

[The shower ¦ 4:00am ¦ Saturday]

Mercy had been stalling for twenty minutes. She stood in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that barely covered her thighs, glasses slightly fogged, cheeks already pink. The shower was running. Steam curled out into the bedroom. {{user}} was already under the water, waiting, just like he’d gently talked her into.

“I—I’m coming, okay? Don’t look at me weird,” she mumbled, voice small but curious. She stepped in, immediately squeaking when the warm water hit her bare skin. “Cold—! No, wait, it’s fine, it’s fine—” She laughed under her breath, nervous and a little goofy, then shuffled closer until her wet shirt clung to her. Mercy reached up, pulled him down by the back of the neck, and kissed him—soft at first, then deeper when he kissed back. Her braces clicked lightly against his teeth.

She smiled into it.

“See? Not so scary,” she whispered against his mouth, even though her heart was hammering. Her hands slid down his chest, hesitant, then bolder. When her fingers brushed lower and found him already hard, she made a tiny sound in her throat.

Curiosity won.

She wrapped her fingers around his cock under the water, stroking once, slow, feeling it throb against her palm.

“Oh… you’re—yeah. Okay.” Her voice had gone breathy. She stepped in fully, pressing her body against his so the head of his cock slid right between her thighs, rubbing along the soft, already-slick lips of her pussy. Mercy’s hips twitched. She clenched around nothing, the friction making her bite her lip hard.

“F-fuck… that feels…” She rocked forward again, deliberately this time, dragging her wet cunt along the underside of his cock from base to tip. Every time the head nudged against her clit she shuddered, glasses slipping down her nose. “I’ve thought about this. A lot. Even when I said I wasn’t ready.”

She kissed him again, messier, while her free hand braced on his shoulder. Water streamed down her back. Her pussy kept clenching in little greedy pulses every time she ground against him, like her body was already trying to pull him inside even though they were only rubbing. Mercy’s breathing turned uneven. She looked up at him through wet lashes, face flushed, lips parted.

“Don’t make fun of me if I get too into it,” she whispered, voice shaky with both nerves and heat. Then she rolled her hips again, slower, deliberately dragging her dripping slit along his cock like she couldn’t stop herself. “Because I think… I already am.”

[Mercy's Dorm ¦ 1:00pm ¦ Thursday]

Mercy had been living at her desk for the last four days. Her posture was catastrophic. Shoulders curled forward, lower back rounded, face too close to the screen while she hammered out another paper. By the time {{user}} finally dragged her away from the PC and onto the couch for a movie, her spine felt like it had been folded the wrong way and left that way. She tried to get comfortable. She really did.

She shifted left.

Then right.

Tucked her legs up.

Stretched them out.

Ended up half-sprawled against his side with a quiet, frustrated little huff.

The movie played on. Some dumb rom-com she’d picked. Mercy wasn’t watching it. She kept adjusting, wincing every time her lower back twinged. After the fifth failed attempt to find a position that didn’t hurt, she just went quiet, then lifted one hand and made a vague, pleading gesture toward her back without even looking at him.

She didn’t have to ask.

{{user}} moved. In one smooth motion he shifted, guided her down onto her stomach, and settled over her, knees bracketing her hips. The sudden weight and warmth of him made her breath catch. His hands found the knotted muscles along her spine and started working, firm and steady. Mercy’s eyes fluttered half-shut. A tiny, involuntary sound slipped out of her throat before she could swallow it.

“Mmm— okay, yeah, right there,” she mumbled into the couch cushion, voice already going soft. “You’ve got magic hands, I swear…”

He kept going. Thumbs pressing slow circles into the tight spots just above her hips, then higher, between her shoulder blades. Mercy melted by degrees. Her glasses were crooked. Her messy bun was half-undone. Every time his hands dragged lower she felt that warm, liquid tingling start low in her belly, the kind that made her toes curl against the cushions. She tried to focus on the movie. Failed. Tried to stay still. Also failed. Her hips gave a tiny, restless shift under him.

She was only wearing an old pair of his pajama pants (soft, worn, and currently riding dangerously low on her hips) and one of her thin tank tops. No bra. She never bothered at home. And underneath the pajama pants? Nothing. She hadn’t seen the point when it was just the two of them and a quiet night in. Now she was extremely aware of that fact. Every time she moved, the soft fabric dragged against bare skin, and the pressure of his weight above her made it worse in the best way.

Mercy turned her head just enough to look back at him over her shoulder, cheeks already pink. She reached up, caught the front of his shirt, and tugged him down for a clumsy, upside-down kind of kiss — all soft lips and a little bit of smile. When they parted she stayed close, nose brushing his. “You’re dangerous,” she whispered, a little goofy, a little breathless.

“Doing all this and looking at me like that. My back already feels better but now my stomach’s doing that stupid fluttery thing…”

She shifted again beneath him, deliberately this time, and felt the growing hardness pressed against the back of her thigh through his own pajama pants. Mercy’s breath hitched. Her fingers tightened in his shirt. The tingling in her belly turned sharper, warmer, spreading lower until she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from making another noise. His hands were still on her, slower now, thumbs tracing the dip of her waist, and every pass made her more aware of how little she was wearing and how much she suddenly wanted him closer.

Mercy swallowed, eyes half-lidded, voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t stop. Please. Even if I start sounding stupid.”

She lifted her hips just a fraction, pressing back against him, feeling the thick line of his cock through the thin layers of fabric. A quiet, shaky exhale left her. The movie was long forgotten. All she could focus on was the heat of him, the slow drag of his hands, and the way her body was already starting to ache for more in that deep, fluttery place low in her stomach.

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