#I swear there’s so much art of these three I’m so happy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carolmunson · 1 year

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let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie.

g’morning pretty ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go.

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture. “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.”

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it. “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?” “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.” “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again.

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :) see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :)

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning. You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.” “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you. “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks. “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.” “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.” He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed. “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.” “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.” “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?”

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.”

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.”

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?”

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.”

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable.

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice.

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face.

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.”

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?”

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.”

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?”

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.”

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return, “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them.

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again.

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday.

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.”

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles.

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him.

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.”

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.”

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do.

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.”

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.”

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.”

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.”

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.”

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.”

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?”

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.”

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card.

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions.

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?”

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box.

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you.

“What can I get you?” he asks again.

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take.

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see.

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.”

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck.

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically.

“Another banger,” he exclaims.

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise.

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did.

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines.

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s.

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it.

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.”

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is.

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway.

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.”

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’”

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target.

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you.

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.”

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?” “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it.

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?”

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through.

“We have all day, right?” you smirk.

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?”

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow.

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.”

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.”

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?”

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand.

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.”

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.”

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels?

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy?

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?”

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.”

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly.

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.”

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever.

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing.

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.”

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf.

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?”

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.”

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze.

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.”

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.”

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something.

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be.

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store.

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.”

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.”

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it.

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?”

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.”

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest.

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.”

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.”

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again.

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.”

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you.

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention.

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words.

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?”

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.”

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?”

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?”

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.”

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries. “Easter candy?” he asks.

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.”

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?”

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?”

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.”

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in.

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile.

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?”

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully.

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you.

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease.

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.”

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point.

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.”

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console.

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you?

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire.

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?”

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?”

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.”

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?”

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze.

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back.

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks.

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.”

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.”

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more.

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.”

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face.

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts.

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.”

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’”

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head.

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.”

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth.

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.”

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.”

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.”

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.”

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage.

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his.

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green.

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.”

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly.

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now.

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?”

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.”

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.”

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask.

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest, “You gettin’ sleepy?”

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.”

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.”

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?”

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do.

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now?

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped.

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.”

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no.

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.”

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping.

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard.

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.”

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again.

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!”

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes.

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.”

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.”

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile.

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you.

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.”

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.”

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.”

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.”

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception.

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.”

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch.

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth. it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you.

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand.

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy. oh, so you miss me? of course i do :) i miss you, too :)

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?”

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met.

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.”

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.”

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?”

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.”

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted.

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks.

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back.

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.”

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?”

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.”

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.”

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them.

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.”

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds.

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.” “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.”

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees.

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks.

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.” “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage.

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser.

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark.

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late? grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.”

yeah, show me :)

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand.

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it.

jfc you know what you’re doing whaaaaat? what do you mean? ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean. do you not like it? i like it a little too much you wanna see it from the back?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers.

of course i do

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru. you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn? lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it.

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?”

yeah? you’d take care of it? only if you asked nicely :)

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand.

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please. what a good boy. :)

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.”

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth?

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first.

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full oh you wanna shut me up? is that it? i don’t think it takes much.

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off.

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that?

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat.

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it you sound very confident because i am is it big?

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit.

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it. i know i can take it. so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here. so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that. so you are jerking it in your bedroom? the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good.

🙈 stop yeah? i can stop. don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come? cause i do have my fingers between my thighs

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls.

does it feel good, sweetheart? it would feel better if you were doing it for me. can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…”

absolutely.

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring.

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does.

“Hey there,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan.

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again.

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh.

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm.

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.”

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax.

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.”

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead.

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?”

“Yeah,” you whine to him.

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”

“How?” you ask breathily.

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.”

“I’m not needy,” you protest.

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.”

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver.

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?”

“Yeah…”

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh.

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?”

“How long have you been doing it?”

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly.

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?”

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you.

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.”

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over.

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low.

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea.

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?”

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you.

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm? Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.”

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down.

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls.

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.”

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober.

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully.

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly.

“Poor thing,” he offers.

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.”

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.”

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters.

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.”

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.”

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours.

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned.

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere.

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go.

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.”

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.”

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy.

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment. “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling.

“I missed you,” he says confidently.

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group.

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug.

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over.

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose.

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.”

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind.

“Guess who it is,” she laughs.

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand.

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.”

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts.

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.”

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face.

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.”

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.”

“So you like her?” Eddie grins.

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.”

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort.

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.”

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs.

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all.

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses.

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat.

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt.

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too. He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it.

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit –

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse.

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.”

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines.

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.”

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time.

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs.

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair.

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs.

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks.

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this.

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going.

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently.

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room, “You even know how to play?”

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain.

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.”

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again.

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not. Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade.

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest.

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting.

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin.

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen.

“Do I win a prize?”

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.”

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.” He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight.

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again.

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.”

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other.

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.”

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips.

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands.

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths.

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.”

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums.

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp.

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.”

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.”

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?”

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar.

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually –

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep.

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves.

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.”

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck.

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind.

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft.

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips.

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle.

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.”

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.”

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks.

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel.

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit.

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead.

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.”

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout.

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again.

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him.

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger.

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue.

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles.

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.”

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time?

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.”

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?”

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…”

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game.

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish.

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you.

“Eddie…”

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him.

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.”

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch.

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back.

“M’gonna cum…oh shit — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers.

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead.

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.”

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate.

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?”

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.”

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?”

“Much better.”

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks.

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen.

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face.

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate.

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –”

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is.

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?”

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn.

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping.

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.”

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?”

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.”

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed.

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.”

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.”

Jingle. Click. Creak.

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.”

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen.

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.”

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second.

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.”

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.” Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.”

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him.

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit.

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?”

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much.

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x y/n

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Text

As You Wish, Part 4 - Eddie Munson x Reader

A collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs 💚

Note: I will never ever ever stop getting excited when someone says they enjoy this series. I’ve become so attached to this gang and I’m glad you all like them as well! You can read part three here.

Summary: Your first taste of domestic bliss with Eddie gets a wrench thrown in it

Warnings: smut, oral m and f receiving, talk of drug abuse, talk of abusive parents and shitty home life

Words: 8.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

You’ve never been much of a morning person, preferring to drag yourself out of bed and into the kitchen with a hope and a prayer that your coffee will perk you up. People who start their days with a spring in their step and a chipper, “good morning!” are the bane of your existence. If anyone even tries to have a semblance of a conversation with you before the caffeine hits your bloodstream, you instantly dislike them. It’s safe to say that mornings aren’t your thing.

That all changes when you get to start your day with Eddie’s head between your legs.

“Fuck, holy shit!” you cry out, digging your fingers into his messy curls. Your legs rest on his muscular shoulders, trembling with each flicker of his tongue. “Right there, baby. Right there!”

Eddie hums his acknowledgment, sending vibrations shooting up your core. This wasn’t what you’d had in mind when you’d asked him what he wanted for breakfast, but you’re certainly not complaining.

He grips onto your thighs as he laps at your pussy, and you can see him rutting his pelvis against your mattress. A small part of you wants to tell him to just get inside you, but you’re far too content being doted on. Besides, you know he won’t want to come before you do.

You choke out a sob as his nose nudges your clit, and you feel your orgasm start to build. “Almost—s’close, Eddie,” you whimper. Determined to make you feel good, he sucks on the sensitive bud while slipping a thick finger into you, crooking it and making a come-hither motion.

“Yes! I’m coming!” You unravel as the coil in your belly snaps, grinding on Eddie’s face as you finish.

Eddie brings you down from your high, lowering your legs back onto the bed. “I think breakfast is my new favorite meal of the day,” he teases, wiping your slick from his chin. He crawls towards your upper body, pressing his kiss-swollen lips to yours.

“Mmm, my turn,” you say salaciously. “Lay back, handsome.”

You start to tug at the waistband of his pajama pants, nibbling at his stomach before kissing over the love bites.

“Um, sweetheart?” Eddie mumbles sheepishly. “If you do that…well, I’m not like the 20-year-olds anymore. Gonna take me a minute to get hard again.”

“Eddie.” You pull down his pants and boxers, watching as his throbbing cock thwacks against his happy trail. Fuck. “I want you in my mouth. Wanna make you feel so fucking good, just like you do for me, okay?”

“Mhm,” he mewls, hissing in pleasure as you lick from base to tip, swirling your tongue around and collecting his pre-cum.

Wordlessly, you take him into your waiting mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck him off. Your dominant hand wraps around the part of him you can’t fit without gagging, and the other cups his balls. Fighting back a grin as he bucks his hips involuntarily because you are making him feel that good.

You bob your head, taking as much of his length as you can. Eddie grips the sheets, swearing and moaning out your name. “Can’t—fuck—hold out any longer,” he manages. “Bend over the fucking bed, shit.”

Releasing him with a soft pop and doing as you’re told, Eddie kneels behind you and grabs onto your waist. “Gonna come on this perfect ass,” he grunts, tugging on his cock. “S’fucking gorgeous. Take my cum, you gorgeous fuckin’ girl.” You feel his hot release spill onto your ass. Eddie’s breathing heavily, a giant smile on his face. “Damn, s’like a work of art.”

“Either take a picture or clean me up,” you say with a giggle.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Could I…can I take a picture?”

“Polaroid camera is on a hook in the closet,” you tell him.

“Fuck yeah,�� Eddie mumbles to himself as he climbs off the bed. Once the camera is secured, Eddie makes his way back to his previous position behind you. “Shit, gonna need a lock box to keep these in,” he muses as he looks through the small lens of the camera. “Nobody gets to see this shit but me.” You start to wiggle your ass, which has Eddie chuckling as he takes a few more shots. “Okay, baby, now I’m coming in with the clean up.” Swiping up his long tossed away boxers, he uses the material to clean his cum from your skin.

Balling up the soiled boxers, he tosses them into your hamper, attempting to recreate a basketball shot. But he misses. “Ah fuck, this is why I didn’t do sports. And cause I hate ‘em. Anyway, what I was gonna say before my mouth was suddenly busy was, how bout I take my girl out to breakfast?”

“That your way of saying you’re tired of my cooking already?” you ask with a giggle. Walking over, you wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck and let your naked body rest up against his. “Cause so far the only meal I’ve cooked for you in this apartment was dinner last night. And between you and the boys, you ate the whole thing!”

“You know us Munson men love you and your cooking,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“And you inhaled that casserole like it was your last meal. No, wait. Let me rephrase. You inhaled the casserole like your life depended on me. You ate me like I was your last meal.”

“The thing is, my girl deserves to be taken out. First, she let me devour her, then wore me out with her sinful mouth. Think I need to spoil her some. Plus, I selfishly really want people to see me with the most beautiful girl in the world on my arm.”

“Such a sweet talker,” you say as you trail your hands down his shoulders and settle them on his chest. “I would love to go to breakfast.”

Eddie steals one last kiss before he’s pulling away to get to his suitcase and so you can rifle through your closet. You settle on a pair of jeans and a soft cream sweater that Eddie had complemented once. It was a few months ago, but you still thought of his sweet words whenever you saw the garment. Eddie’s ready to go in his usual black on black on black ensemble. And looking hot while wearing it. Opening the bedroom door, you step out into the hall, Eddie right behind you. A glimpse of Jess in the kitchen catches your attention so you head that way. She’s standing at the counter, chopping something up with a knife—an onion, by the smell of it. But it’s the big, bulky headphones she’s wearing that make you laugh.

You tap on her shoulder, causing her to jump and spin around to face you. The knife is still clutched in her hand, so you take a step back. Shoulders sagging in relief, Jess places the knife back on the counter and takes off the headphones.

“Those new?” you ask. “Never seen them before.”

“Yep,” Jess says, appraising her new purchase. “Went out and got them the morning after I found out Eddie would be staying with us. They have come in very handy. Even just a few minutes ago.” She smirks, your face heating up.

“Your eardrums should be safe for a while,” you assure her. “We’re heading out to get breakfast. Not sure what we’re doing afterwards.”

“No worries. Have fun, you two.” Jess leans back so she can see Eddie where he’s standing in the hallway. “Bye, Eddie!”

“Bye.” He gives her a wave as you come back to join him. Lacing your fingers with his, you grab your keys and head out of the apartment.

You hop into the front seat of Eddie’s truck, buckling your seatbelt and turning on the radio.

“Please, not Billy Joel again,” he begs, pulling onto the road towards Benny’s.

“Oh, of course not.” You bat your eyelashes with feigned innocence, tuning the dial to a Top 40 station.

I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want!

So tell me what you want, what you really really want!

“Nope, no way,” Eddie protests as you increase the volume and start to sing along. “We are not listening to the Spice Girls.”

“Aw, c’mon, baby,” you pout. Truthfully, you’re not the biggest fan of the girl group, but messing with Eddie is too much fun. “You know the words.”

If you wanna be my lover

You gotta get with my friends

Make it last forever

Friendship never ends!

“What the hell does that even mean?” Eddie groans, switching to a station playing AC/DC. “I’m sorry; I love you, but I couldn’t listen to another second of that.”

“Calm down, Grumpy Spice. I like this more, anyway.”

“Good. Shows you’ve got some taste. I mean, after all, you did pick me.” The self-satisfied smirk on his face has you rolling your eyes.

“Oh, we’re not even gonna go there,” you say with a laugh. “Look who you picked the first time around.”

“Well, shit, you got me there.” Eddie laughs along with you as he pulls into a parking space.

The diner is mostly empty, so you get your French Toast and Eddie his waffles fairly quickly.

“These are way better than those frozen Eggos,” he says, pouring syrup on top.

“Y’know you’re supposed to heat them up before you eat them, right?” you giggle, and Eddie flips you off. He steals your cup of juice and takes a large swig of it.

“Payback,” he says.

“Just don’t backwash,” you warn.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he stares at you. “You’re gonna tell me not to let any of my saliva get into your drink after where my tongue was just an hour ago?”

“Oh…shut up,” you say, because he’s got you. You steal a piece of waffle from his plate just to be a brat.

“You have anything you have to do today?” Eddie asks before shoving too large of a piece into his mouth.

“Nope,” you say. “Okay, well technically, I have to read a few pages in my textbook for class tomorrow, but I can do that before bed.”

“What would you say about coming apartment hunting with me?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide and curious. It makes you look so innocent, Eddie thinks. Maybe this is how he makes you feel when he turns those big cow eyes on you.

“You want me to come with you?” you ask slowly, as if you didn’t understand the question.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “I’m hoping you’re gonna be spending a lot of time there too, ya know. I’d love your input. Now, the real question is…do you think it needs to be a three bedroom? I do. I think if the boys share a room, it’ll be the end of what’s left of my sanity.”

Giggling, you nod your head. “I could see a child’s version of WWE wrestling going on in that room if they’re forced to share.”

“Right,” he affirms. “And I’d prefer to stay out of emergency rooms if possible, so…three bedrooms it is. One for Ryan, one for Luke, and one for…” He trails off, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

You take his hand, stroking the back of it with your thumb. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m totally fine with being a guest until everything gets sorted out. Besides, the kids are going through a lot of changes right now. I think it needs to just be them and their daddy for a little while.”

Eddie brings your hand up to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the back of it. Traces of syrup from his mouth stick to your skin, but you couldn’t care less. “How did I manage to find the most perfect woman in the world?”

“A little birdie told me you needed a babysitter, and I appeared on your doorstep,” you tease, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Speaking of which…I think I’m out of a job.”

Eddie crinkles his nose in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna be paid to babysit my boyfriend’s kids!” you laugh. “Is there anyone at their school who needs a babysitter?”

He thinks for a moment. “Steve’s thinking about going back to work now that the kids are older. Take some of the pressure off of Nancy to be the sole breadwinner, y’know?”

“Perfect!” You clap your hands together. “Could you ask him for me?”

“‘Course,” Eddie smiles. “Just promise you won’t fuck him.”

Your eyes widen as tears well up in the corners, your mouth twitching as you try to hold back your hurt. “Wh-what did you just say?” You wince as your voice cracks, giving away your true feelings.

Eddie immediately recognizes that he’s fucked up and reaches for your hands. “Oh, no! Baby, baby, no. I was just kidding.” He stands up and brings his chair to your side of the table so he can sit next to you. “My sweet girl.” He brings your hands up to his mouth and smothers your knuckles in kisses. “I’m sorry, baby. That was just a bad joke. That’s all it was, okay?”

A few tears break through the barricade and slide down your cheeks. Eddie’s quick to wipe them away with his thumbs.

“D-Do you not trust me? You t-think I only wanted you because I’m your babysitter? Is that why you wanted me?”

“Fuck, princess, no.” He pulls you into his arms, but you don’t raise yours to wrap around him. “It was just a shitty joke, I promise. Of course I trust you. I trust you with my life—with my sons’ lives. And I know that’s not what’s between us. It’s not because you were their babysitter. I’m really fucking glad you were though, ‘cause I don’t know how else we would have met.”

Pulling back from him, you nod your head. You believe Eddie. But this wasn’t a sore spot you knew you had until he poked at it. The insecurity of it already has its claws in your heart. “What if Nancy thinks—”

Eddie presses a kiss to your temple. “She won’t,” he says firmly. “If you want, I can arrange a playdate between the kids, and you two can get to know each other better.”

You think about Nancy: poised, confident, beautiful, and intelligent. What would she think of you, a twenty-year-old babysitter who fell in love with a parent she worked for?

“I dunno,” you whisper, feeling yourself deflate. “I don’t want her to hate me, or look down on me.” Or think I’m some kind of homewrecking slut, you think sourly.

“I don’t think anyone could hate you,” Eddie muses, gently rubbing your thigh. “She’ll see how great you are with the kids—not to mention how much I fucking adore you—and you’ll be best friends in no time.”

While you appreciate his enthusiasm, you don’t share it. Still, you agree to give it a try. For Eddie.

Looking at apartments gets off to a rough start. The first place only has two bedrooms, and the second bedroom is basically a glorified closet. The rent at the second place is astronomical, with Eddie nearly choking on his own saliva when the property manager tells him the amount. The third place seemed perfect, until a gigantic roach scurried along the kitchen counter.

“‘M sorry, baby,” Eddie says, stifling a yawn as the two of you climb back into his car. “I thought that last one was gonna be it for sure.”

You feign innocence. “You mean you didn’t want a pet cockroach to keep you company?” He gives you a playful shove, making you giggle.

“Hard pass.” He throws the car in reverse as he backs out of the parking spot, putting his arm around the back of your seat as he checks behind him. Something about it stirs up desire in you, but you know he needs to stay focused. Road head will have to wait.

“How many more places are we looking at today?”

“I think there’s three left on the list. We don’t have to do them all today if you don’t want to, though,” Eddie says as he pulls out onto the main road.

“I don’t mind,” you tell him truthfully. “I kinda like it. I mean, I know I’m not living there, but doing something domestic like this with you is making me really happy.”

Eddie reaches over for your hand and brings it to his lips. He kisses the back a few times, before lowering your joined hands. “Want you by my side for all these kinds of things. Big decisions and shit, ya know?”

“Like a partner?”

“Exactly.”

Partner. The word sends a tingle down your tummy. Yeah, you’ve had boyfriends before. But that’s all they really were. Just someone to spend time with while you’re going to school, not really taking on actual life with one another, just having fun. But this with Eddie? It’s the first real partnership you’ve ever had. It might take a little getting used to since you’ve never been part of a team like this before. But it sounds wonderful to you.

“What’s the address of the next place?” Eddie asks, breaking you out of your head. You scramble through your purse to find the scrap of paper.

“1007 Crane Street,” you read. “I think that’s pretty close to Starcourt, yeah?”

Eddie nods, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Maybe after we check this one out, I can take you to the lingerie store they have there. Treat you to something pretty,” he adds, salaciousness dripping from his tongue.

“Can we focus on finding you a place to live? Jess is gonna burn out those headphones if you stay with us any longer.”

“It’s still early in the day. We can do both,” he reasons. “I think I turn right at this light, yeah?”

“Yes.”

Eddie makes the turn, and the apartment complex is only a few miles up the road. The outside looks nice, dark brown siding giving the buildings the impression of being log cabins. The thicket of trees around the area only adds to the whole campsite vibe. Eddie pulls the truck into a spot right in front of the office and you hop out. With one hand, Eddie pushes the door open for you, with the other, he laces his fingers with yours.

The property manager is a younger man in his late twenties, well-dressed and well-spoken. Even though you’ve both made it abundantly clear that Eddie is the one renting the place, the manager mostly addresses you.

“I’ll let you take a look around,” he says as he leads you to unit 129. “And if you need anything, give me a call.” He slips you his business card and leaves without even shaking Eddie’s hand.

“This place looks perfect,” you muse, waiting for your boyfriend’s response. When you don’t hear anything, you look over to find him with a bemused look on his face. “What?”

“Babe, what do you mean ‘what?’’ Eddie laughs. “He was totally hitting on you!” He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck. “Can’t blame him, though. You’re a hot piece of ass.”

You turn around, leaning into him as you hook your fingers through his belt loops. “What do you think, Munson? Can you picture yourself living here?”

“Mhm,” he nods. “I can picture me fucking you on the kitchen counter, and in the bedroom, and in the shower…” He jogs to the door, glancing around the hallway. “How long do you think we have until your secret admirer returns?”

You roll your eyes. “C’mon. Let’s go put a deposit on this place so you can take me to the mall.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When you step into the lingerie store, your eyes widen at the variety in front of you. Lace, velvet, silk. Bras, panties, teddies, corsets. And all available in an array of colors.

“Holy shit,” you say under your breath. But not quiet enough so that your boyfriend doesn’t hear you.

“What, baby?”

“There’s so much,” you say, gesturing to all the garments around you. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Eddie slips his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your head as you look over a selection of panties. “Sweetheart, have you never had lingerie before?”

You shake your head as you pick up a pair of black lace panties. “Some sexy bras and underwear, but that’s it. Nothing like…” you trail off as you walk over to a mannequin who looked strapped into some type of bustier. “I wouldn’t even know how to put some of this stuff on.”

“Do you wanna go?” Eddie asks, brow pinching in concern.

“No! I wanna get something. I’m just not sure what. Here, you tell me what you wanna see me in.”

“Anything as long as it’s black. You look so sexy in black. And if you haven’t noticed, I’m partial to the color.” He gestures down to his black t-shirt, black jeans, and black leather jacket.

“Want me to model some stuff for you?” you ask, gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes and biting on your lower lip.

“Very much so,” he says with a chuckle.

“Okay. Um…you go sit over there, near the dressing rooms, I’ll grab a few things, then we’ll see how they look.”

“Ooh, I love a good surprise,” he murmurs, hooking his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you to his chest. He brushes the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “Fuck, already getting myself worked up. Go pick something out before I carry you outta here empty-handed.”

You giggle, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Yes, sir,” you tease, but when you watch the color drain from his face, you realize you’ll have to explore that more in the future.

Perusing through the racks of flimsy bras and lace teddies is more overwhelming than you’d imagined. Each time you try to choose one, doubts flood your mind. Will I look good in this? Will Eddie like it? What if he hates it but is too nice to tell me? What if I don’t turn him on? You try to shake the thoughts away, bringing your attention back to the lingerie. After a few moments, you settle on a cupless bra with a matching black thong, a black Spandex bodysuit, and a light pink babydoll piece. The last item isn’t Eddie’s favorite color, but it’ll make you look innocent and corruptible, so you don’t think he’ll mind.

As you head back towards where Eddie’s waiting near the fitting rooms, you hear a tinny giggle coming from a petite blonde woman. She’s got her hand pressed to Eddie’s chest as she says, “Eddie Munson, you’ve still got your charm after all these years.”

Despite your best efforts, you can feel the jealousy swirling inside you. Who the hell is she? And why is she talking to—no, why is she FLIRTING with my boyfriend?!

Eddie shoves his hands deep in his pockets and grins bashfully. “Yeah, that’s what my girl tells me.”

The blonde woman purses her lips, puzzled. “I thought you said that you and Brittany—”

“Oh, we’re completely done,” Eddie tells her. “But I, uh, got myself a girlfriend now.”

“Um, hi,” you pipe up, giving an awkward wave. “I’m the girlfriend.”

The woman puts on a tight smile. “Chrissy,” she introduces herself, hugging a corset to her abdomen. “Well, it was great seeing you again, Eddie. And, uh, nice to meet you,” she offers, scampering off towards the cashier.

“Who was that?” you ask, brow furrowing as your eyes follow the woman’s steps across the store.

“Chrissy Cunningham,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around your waist. “We went to high school together.”

A quip about that being in the Stone Age dies on your lips as you turn back to face him. The way Eddie’s looking at you has you raising an eyebrow at him. A fond smile is carved on his mouth and his eyes are so soft and gentle that you feel like they could be made of actual chocolate. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I can’t just look at you?” he asks. “You’re beautiful.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you lean forward, in towards his face. “Okay, what do you want?”

Eddie lets out a loud clap of laughter before burying his head in your neck. He presses a few kisses there before remembering what you’ve got in your arms.

“All right, all right, enough wasted time. Get in that dressing room and show me what you’ve got.” He gives your ass a playful swat as you go to move behind the red velvet curtain of the dressing room.

You realize that you were right before. You’re not sure how to properly put some of it on. A cupless bra is exactly what it sounds like; a bra without cups. So why does it feel so odd fitting it right on your body? Part of you is frustrated, but when you catch sight of yourself fumbling with the material in the mirror, you can’t help but let out a little giggle. If you had been told six months ago that you’d be trying on your first real pieces of lingerie for Eddie Munson, you would’ve punched the person for fucking with you. But here you are. And there he is, waiting for you on the other side of the curtain.

Making a few last adjustments to some strategically placed straps, you’re satisfied with how the garment looks on your body. You just hope Eddie feels the same. “Uh, Eds? You can come in now.”

You poke your head out of the curtain and see his face lit up like Time Square on New Years. And he hasn’t even seen your body yet. Stepping back to allow room for your boyfriend, you hold your breath as he breaches the curtain, and his eyes immediately scan over your body. His jaw drops open, making an audible popping noise as his lips part. Large hands come out as if they’re going to grip you, but they freeze halfway between your bodies.

“Holy fucking shit, baby. I mean…holy shit.”

“Very articulate,” you say with a giggle, but his words—or lack thereof—have you blushing. “Okay, let me try on the other ones.”

Eddie’s shaking his head. “Can’t wait that long,” he mutters, glancing down as he stiffens against the zipper of his jeans. “I’ll just buy ‘em all f’you.”

“Are you sure?”

“So fuckin’ sure,” he assures you, eyes never leaving your body as you change back into your clothes. “‘Bout to bust in my shorts like a goddamn teenager.”

You pull your shirt back over your head, bringing your arms through the sleeves. “Can you make it to the car? I can help you out there.” You giggle as he mumbles a Jesus H. Christ, grabbing your selections and bringing them to the register in record time.

Eddie’s practically an Olympic sprinter as he drags you to the car. His long legs leave you tripping over your own feet as he tries to rush you along at his speed. Unlocking the car, he holds your shopping bags in the other hand, and wastes no time tossing them in the back seat. He goes to climb in as well, when you tut and shake your head at him.

“Uh uh,” you say. “Front seat, Mr. Munson.” The name was only intended to be a joke, but when you see him react the second time today to addressing him formally, you’re pretty sure you’ve struck gold.

Eddie quickly slides into the driver’s seat and his fingers fumble over his belt buckle. Cool as a cucumber, you take your time getting in the passenger’s side. Dark brown eyes keep glancing at you when he notices that you’re not undressing.

“Gonna ride me, babe?” he asks. “Cause then you should at least take the jeans off. Kinda hard to fuck you through those.”

“Nope,” you say, popping the “p” sound. “Just start driving.” Eddie looks at you, confusion coloring his face. His jeans are pushed down his hips enough that you can see his cock straining against his green and white boxers. “Just start driving,” you repeat.

The look of confusion only growing on his face, he does as you say. He places his hand on the back of your headrest and turns his body so he can see out the back window as he begins to back the car out of the parking space. His tongue pokes out of his kissable lips in that adorable way he does when he’s focused on something. Which gives you the perfect opportunity. The car is still moving slow enough that you’re sure Eddie won’t cause a wreck while you lean in and pull his cock out of his boxers. The car comes to an abrupt halt as Eddie stomps on the breaks halfway out of the parking spot. Giggling to yourself because you were prepared for the jolt, you don’t lose focus and you move to hover as best you can over his cock. Letting your spit dribble down on to it, you take Eddie’s long, thick cock in your hand and begin to jerk it just the way he likes.

“Fuck, baby. Am I getting road head?” Eddie asks as he manages to get the car going again. The car picks up speed so you know he must be getting ready to exit the parking lot. The car crawls to a stop—presumably at a stop sign—so you lean forward and give the smallest of kitten licks over the head. “Jesus.”

Smiling to yourself, you lean back in and wrap your lips around the reddened head. Swirling your tongue around, the salty taste of his precum stains your tastebuds. You can hear Eddie’s hands sliding over the leather of the steering wheel, and you’re pretty sure it’s from him gripping it even tighter than he was before. His cock grows even harder in your mouth, and you hollow out your cheeks in a feeble attempt to take him all.

“Shit,” he breathes out, feeling your fingers grasp at his base. Despite your best efforts, the angle makes it impossible to get all of his length. “Baby, baby, baby, please.” His leg trembles beneath you, and you bring your head up to speak.

“Stay focused on the road, okay?”

“Easy for you to say,” Eddie grumbles, “you’re not the one getting your dick sucked while trying to drive.”

“Don’t worry, you can suck mine after,” you tease before licking a stripe up his cock. He hisses at the sudden contact. He twitches, signaling that he’s about to finish.

“Can’t–fuck–can’t hold back,” he grunts, bucking his hips up slightly. His foot accidentally presses harder against the gas pedal, propelling him through a red light. You don’t notice that anything’s awry until you hear the sound of a horn blaring just as Eddie starts to come. Thick, hot ropes spurt onto your tongue, and you swallow it just as a police siren whoops loudly.

Eddie groans, using one hand to tuck himself back into his pants. “Baby, sit up,” he nudges you. “Act normal.” Act like you didn’t just have my dick in your mouth, he wants to say, but he keeps it to himself.

“Wh-What’s going on?” you ask, grimacing as you take note of him starting to pull over, the sheriff’s car trailing right behind the truck. “Eddie, what did you do?”

“Me?” he sputters, combing his fingers through his tousled curls.

“Well, you’re the one driving,” you point out unhelpfully.

Chief Hopper steps out of the car, mumbling to himself as he makes his way over to your driver’s side door. Eddie rolls down his window, flashing an apologetic grin at the older man.

“For fuck’s sake,” Hopper grumbles. “I’ve been pulling you over since you were sixteen, Munson. And me pulling you over were some of our better interactions.”

“You still haven’t retired?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows and a playful smile dancing on his lips.

“Listen, kid.” Hop places one hand on the roof of the car and bends down to be on the same level as Eddie. That’s when Hopper’s eyes are drawn to you, sitting in the passenger seat.

“Hi, Chief,” you say, giving him a small wave when all he does is keep looking at you. His eyes dart from you, to Eddie, then back to you. The question “how the fuck do you two know each other?” is basically written across his face in big bold letters.

“What was all that light running business about, huh?” Hopper finally asks, eyes finding Eddie’s face and staying there.

“I hit the wrong pedal,” Eddie says, dropping his hands into his lap. “My foot must’ve slipped or something. I’m sorry, Hop.”

Hopper sighs and rubs across his graying, bushy eyebrows. “Any other day I’d slap you with a ticket. But, uh, I’ve actually got something else for you.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “Will send over some more of those specialized dice he found?”

“No,” Hop says, but this time he’s avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “Stay here, I’m going to grab it from my truck.”

“Who’s Will? Oh, is the one you were telling me about from your Hellfire Club? The artistic one out in California?” you ask.

“Yeah, he’s Hop’s stepson.”

When Hopper comes back over to the truck, his shoulders look a little more slumped and he sighs as he fiddles with a Manila envelope in his hands. The older man clears his throat before speaking again. “I was actually headed to your place—or the address I was given for where you’re staying right now.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Eddie says, a little confused about the shift in tone coming from Hopper. “I’m staying with my girl here.” Eddie pats your thigh a few times, and when leaves his hand there, you lace your fingers with his.

Hopper nods his head a few times. “I’m real sorry to have to do this, Eddie.” That shocks Eddie most of all, because in the fifteen plus years that Hop and Eddie have had their run-ins with one another, he’s never heard the police chief say that. Or even so much address him as simply “Eddie” and not “Munson.” As if he’s doing it against his will, Hopper forces himself to extend the arm of the hand that’s holding the envelope. Eddie’s brow furrows as he takes it from him. “You’re, um, being served. The custody documents.”

The color drains from Eddie’s face. Begrudgingly, Eddie takes his hand from yours so he can open the envelope and peer in at the court papers. One of the first things that catches his eye on a form is the name Brittany Munson written in bold lettering. The side of Eddie’s mouth curls up in a sneer as he looks at it. He winces at the painful reminder of their shared last name, their shared life. God, I hope she goes back to her maiden name. Eddie thinks. Fuck her. Fuck her for thinking she can take my kids away from me. Fuck her for thinking they’d even want to be with her at all. Fuck her for all the shit she put me through and is now going to act like the victim.

“You okay, baby?”

Your voice breaks him out of his own head. He sniffs as he slides the documents back down and closes the envelope. “M’alright.” All three of you know that’s a lie, though.

“Really wish I’d only given you a ticket,” Hop says, voice full of a grim understanding of Eddie’s circumstance. “If you need anything, you let me know. I may not be able to pull strings with any judges, but I know damn well they’ll take into account what I tell him. And those boys think the world of you. We all know that.”

“Thanks, Hop,” Eddie says, nodding his head at the police chief.

“You take care. Both of you,” Hop says. You give the older man a wave before he’s headed back to his truck. Slowly, you take the envelope from Eddie and lay it in your lap.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask softly. Eddie shakes his head and wipes his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Wanna get home, first. Then I’m gonna fucking lose it.” He puts the truck into gear and pulls back on the road. The speedometer shows you going way past the limit, but you don’t think Hop’s going to particularly care right now.

Eddie barrels into your apartment, throwing the envelope onto the table haphazardly before sinking into the sofa. He covers his face with his hands, but it does nothing to muffle his sobs.

“Worthless piece of shit!” he cries out, slamming a fist into his knee. “Fuck!”

You sit down next to him, letting your thigh brush against his. “Baby, she’s not gonna take the kids from you.”

Eddie looks up at you with red eyes and a tear-stained face. “Not her,” he shakes his head. “Me. I’m a worthless piece of shit.”

You reach out to rub his back, flinching as he pulls away. “What? No, Eddie, you’re not—”

“I am.” His tone is harsh, angry. “I promised myself I’d do better than my old man. Keep my family together no matter what. And now I’m following in his goddamn footsteps!” He stands up suddenly, pacing around the tiny living room. “All I wanted was a family. Mom, dad, kids all under one roof. House with the white picket fence. And I had it; I finally got it. And then I fuckin’ threw it all away.”

“Eddie—”

“My boys,” he continues, “those boys are my life. Everything I’ve ever done has been for them. So that they don’t have to struggle like I did.” His gaze meets yours, and he catches the puzzled expression on your face. “What, did you think I was some kinda trust fund baby like Steve?”

“No,” you murmur. “I mean, I knew you didn’t grow up rich or anything…”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s the understatement of the century.” He rubs his nose with the palm of his hand; it’s one of his nervous habits. “I didn’t just grow up not rich, baby. I grew up poor. Food stamps, trailer park, deciding whether to pay the electric or water bill poor.” He gnaws on his lower lip. “And living with my uncle Wayne wasn’t by choice. I mean, I love the guy; he’s the reason I’m not a total scumbag, but he took me in so I wouldn’t become a ward of the state.”

You nod patiently. “Do…do you wanna talk about your parents?”

“Not really,” he replies tersely, “but since I’m spilling my guts, why fuckin’ not.” He inhales, trying to control the vitriol that seeps through his pores. “Addicts. Both of them. Wayne claims my mom was clean before she met my dad, but I have my doubts. I mean, you don’t start shackin’ up with a dopehead if you’re trying to stay on the straight and narrow.

“When I was a kid, my dad was barely around. And if he was, he and my mom were fighting. And not like normal people argue; they’d beat the shit outta each other. I tried to break it up once, when I was six or seven, and my dad threw me to the ground. And when I looked to my mom to help me, you know what she did?”

Your stomach lurches. You know what he’s going to say next, but you can’t seem to brace yourself for the impact.

“Nothing. She did absolutely fucking nothing, because without him, she wouldn’t know where to get her next fix.” Eddie plops back down to the sofa. “One night, they were so high that they put some TV dinners in the oven and left to get more dope. Completely forgot about the food. And me, I guess. Just up and left without a word.

“I was in my room, drawing, when I smelled smoke. Came out to find the kitchen on fire.” He shakes his head at the memory. “I ran outta the house and a neighbor called the fire department. When the cops came and saw that a seven-year-old was home alone—not to mention the needles and burnt spoons strewn around the house—they tracked down my folks and arrested them. Dropped me off at Wayne’s that night.”

You can feel your heart breaking with each word he utters. You’ve never experienced what he has, but you try your best to be comforting. “You’re not your parents, Eddie. You’re not an addict, you’re not negligent, you’re a great father.”

But it’s like he can’t even hear you. “That woman you met at the lingerie store? Chrissy?”

“…yeah?”

“You know how I know her?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Did you two date?” you guess, but he just laughs in response.

“Nah.” He waves off the idea as an impossibility, like he isn’t the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. “She used to buy from me.”

“Buy?”

“Drugs,” he fills in. “I sold drugs in high school to make ends meet. Not the real hard shit like my parents used, but weed and E and K.” His wet brown eyes bore holes through yours. “I saw my parents struggle every goddamn day with addiction, and I still went and sold drugs.”

“You were just trying to survive,” you protest.

“Yeah, well, I could’ve been a cashier at Melvald’s and survived there,” he rebuts, and you don’t have a response to that. “Brittany was on the cheerleading squad with Chrissy, and she tagged along during a deal. That’s, uh, how we met.”

Brittany obviously isn’t your favorite subject to discuss, but Eddie clearly needs to get this off of his chest, so you nod and wait for him to continue.

“She was the first girl I ever loved. First girl I’d ever been with.” A tinge of pink creeps across his cheeks. “I thought love was two people who tolerate each other’s flaws. And we never raised a hand to each other, so that was a step up.” The joke falls flat, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “You probably don’t wanna hear about this.”

“‘S’okay,” you murmur, placing your palm over his fingers, which are anxiously toying with the tears in his jeans.

“No, it’s not.” He stands up suddenly, walking towards your room. “I always fuckin’ do this!”

“Do what?” you ask, trailing behind him. “Babe, what are you talking about?”

“I should go,” he mumbles, shoving his clothes into the duffel bag. “This is…this is a lot, and you don’t need to be wrapped up in my bullshit…”

You grab his hands in your own. “Hey. Look at me.” Your tone is kind but fierce, and it works. You can feel his breathing start to slow to a normal rhythm, rather than the frantic panting he was getting worked up to. “I love you, Eddie. I love everything about you. I get…I get not being proud of your past. But you’re Eddie now. Incredible dad to the sweetest boys, amazing friend, and the best boyfriend in the entire world.”

“You’re just saying that,” he mutters, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging on his lips.

“I mean every word.”

Eddie blinks back more tears. “I never want Ryan or Luke to do what I did. Never want them to even be in that position.”

“They won’t,” you assure him. “We’re gonna do everything we can to get them in your custody, okay?”

“What if…” his voice catches in his throat. “What if they’re better off with her?”

“Eddie,” you say, a huff of unamused laughter catching you off guard. “Did you hear what you just said? You really think they’d be better with Brittany? Who doesn’t even know the name of their school? Who doesn’t care about them one fraction of the amount that you do?”

“I know,” Eddie groans, rubbing his hands over his face. The sigh he lets out sounds so tired and worn out.

“The best place in the world for those boys is with you. I don’t have a single doubt in my mind about that. And deep down, you know it, too.” You rest your hands against his chest and make sure he’s looking you in the eye before you continue. “Everybody who knows you and who knows those boys can advocate that you are who they should be with. That you should get full custody. Who’ll be on Brittany’s side, her sister? The kids have told me she’s crazy, anyway.”

Eddie can’t help but chuckle at that as he nods his head. “Yeah, we never liked her.”

“They belong with you. And tonight, you belong with me. You’re not going anywhere. Okay?”

Releasing a long sigh, Eddie leans forward and rests his forehead against yours. “Okay.”

“Think of the good things that are happening. You found a new apartment today. That you can decorate however you want. With minimal input from your girlfriend.” You give him a wink to let him know you’re teasing him. “And the boys are going to be so excited to make their rooms look cool. Imagine their little faces when their dad helps them create their dream rooms.

“Oh, and where else did we go today? Wasn’t there this store we went to where you bought something for me?” You tap a finger against your chin, playfully scrunching up your face as if you’re in deep thought. “Ah, that’s right. My boyfriend bought me some sexy lingerie to wear for him. I’m excited. I’ve never worn lingerie for a guy before. I wanna get fucked in it.”

“Believe me, you will,” Eddie says, the small smile growing a little wider on his face.

“And, hey,” you say, reaching up to cup his tear-stained face in your hands. “You can talk to me about anything, okay? We’re partners now, baby. That’s the deal. Your parents, Brittany, all of it.” You slide your hands from his face to wrap around his neck. “Like, I didn’t know that Brittany was the only girl you’d been with before me. Thought sexy teenage Eddie Munson would’ve had to beat the girls away with a stick. Guitar player? Mmm, how did you not have a line of girls vying for your attention.”

Eddie lets out a bark of self-deprecating laughter. “Oh, sweetheart. You could not be farther from the truth.”

“Their loss,” you say with a shrug. “How about Chrissy? You ever have a thing for her?”

“Really, babe?” Eddie asks with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What? I’ll tell you about the very small number of guys that have been in my life before you. Get you all worked up and jealous,” you say with a giggle. “Then put on that babydoll I picked out—that only you ever get to see me in.”

“I may have had a small crush on Chrissy at one time, yes,” Eddie admits, his hands settling on your hips. “She was with this douche Jason who liked to give me shit. They got married, actually. Ha! And just got divorced, she told me in the store this afternoon. Hope she takes all of his clothes and money and shit.”

“She didn’t seem too pleased that I’m your girlfriend,” you say, tilting your head to the side.

“I don’t give a fuck what she thinks about you being my girlfriend. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about you being my girlfriend. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be.”

“Is it because I gave you road head?” you ask with a smirk.

“Yes,” Eddie says with a laugh. “It’s because you gave me road head. Do you care what people will think about you being my girlfriend?”

“I do,” you say. “I care about what two wonderful little boys will think about it. I know they like me. I just hope they’ll like me as their daddy’s girlfriend.”

“If they still like you after you made them eat Brussels sprouts that one time, I think it’s safe to say they’ll always adore you.”

“Good. Because I love them,” you say.

“Now,” Eddie says, pulling your body flush up against his. “About these guys you’ve been with before me…”

Giggling, you roll your eyes at him. “Okay, come on. If we’re having this discussion and subsequent lingerie fuck fest, we better get going so we don’t traumatize Jess too much when she gets home.”

You push Eddie in the direction of your bed before going over to your bedroom door. Peeking out into the living room, you see the Manila envelope with the custody documents still on the table. Closing the door, you officially put it out of your sight. Let it stay there for the night. That can be dealt with tomorrow. Tonight—after a brief period of telling Eddie about your previous trysts—you’re going to make your boyfriend forget everything except for how to scream out your name.

Climbing on top of him, you trail kisses down his neck, feeling his body relax beneath yours. His hand lays on the small of your back.

“Baby?” His voice is so small that you can barely hear it. “Could we just…would it be okay if I just held you for a bit?”

“Of course.” You slither off of him and onto the bed, resting your head on his chest. He hiccups softly, and you feel a tear drip off of his chin and onto your face.

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs, sniffling as he tries to stop crying, but you just stretch up and kiss the tears away.

“Don’t apologize,” you tell him, giving his waist a tight squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere. We can stay like this all day if you want.”

He nods, stubble scratching at your forehead. “I love you so fucking much.” He presses his lips to your scalp, intending to hold you to your promise of holding each other forever.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS

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cieloclercs · 1 year

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what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 4/? (read part 3 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. pure angst lmao, charles is an idiot with a capital I, swearing, basically everyone hates charles, the leclercs (minus charles) and joris being iconic + your unnamed bestie, i used pictures from france 2022 so sorry about that 🫠

pairings. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. alex is in one of the pictures as a face claim for a different character but absolutely no hate is intended to her at all !! sorry for the angst in this one 😭 but i promise it won’t stay like that for much longer! <33

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y/nsart experimenting with new textures and media! super happy with the outcome 🖤

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yourfriend incredible 😍

*y/nsart liked this comment

username oh fuck.

username now i really want to know what charles did

username so i’m not the only one getting REALLY sad vibes off these paintings??

username nope 😃

username will any of these be going for sale? 👀

y/nsart i don’t think so unfortunately! i’m just painting for me at the moment :)

username @charles_leclerc what the fuck did you do?

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username charles happened apparently

username pascale normally comments on y/n’s art posts…is this confirmation? 🥲

username babes you’re reaching

username or at least i hope you are

username the charles thing aside, these are so beautiful!

username no charles like either 😭😭

username it’s the beginning of the end girls :’(

arthur_leclerc amazing as always 🖤

*y/nsart liked this comment

username at least arthur’s still here !!

username wrong leclerc. no offence arthur

arthur_leclerc none taken, i fully agree 😃

username WHAT

username ok so we’ve got no pascale or charles…but there’s still some leclerc presence 🤔

username i’ll be honest i’ve got no idea what’s going on

username same bestie !!

username i mean it’s got to be all connected. charles’ dnf in zandvoort and how sad he looked all weekend (he didn’t even post after!!) and now this?? something weird is going on

username i just want charlesy/n back 🥲

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f1wags Charles Leclerc arrived in the Monza paddock today with Italian model Bianca Santoro. Sources suggest they looked pretty cosy 👀

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username it’s over for us charlesy/n nation 🥲

username i’m literally sobbing

username YOU’RE JOKING

username this can’t be happening.

username it’s only been three weeks and he’s already forgotten about y/n??

username you say that like they ever actually dated 🙄

username no they didn’t, but they’ve been best friends since they were literal toddlers! that’s not something you just get over in a few weeks imo

username my heart is breaking wtf

username @charles_leclerc WHAT ABOUT Y/N???

username oh my god for the last time, THEY NEVER DATED !! 🙄🙄

username i seriously believed charles was in love with y/n 💔💔

username why does this feel like a betrayal 😭

username i feel so bad for y/n 🥲

username yikes

username guys this girl might actually be nice! don’t be so quick to judge just because you all want charles and y/n together 😁

username we never said she isn’t.

username but they were my endgame 😭😭

username the only positive out of this is that we’re about to be fed with the most beautiful, haunting, gut-wrenchingly tragic paintings OF ALL TIME

username y/n’s rep era (painter edition) loading…

liked by leclerc_pascale and 104,357 others

y/nsart the heart was made to be broken

view all comments…

username oh.

username not the oscar wilde quote 💔

username i was not mentally prepared for this

username i don’t think any of us were babe 🥲

username i’m never going to forgive charles for this

username why am i feeling this so deeply 😭

leclerc_pascale ❤️

username i can just imagine what pascale’s going to say to charles after this lmao

username she’s gonna tear him apart 😭

arthur_leclerc stop this now i will cry.

username arthur 😭😭

username phahah he’s one of us

username @arthur_leclerc same bestie

username as sad as this is i wish i had an outlet for my emotions like this…i feel like it would be so liberating

*y/nsart liked this comment

username this is exactly what heartbreak feels like. i’m not ok.

username charles is now enemy number 1 after making my girl y/n feel like this

username i was going to say i hope he dnfs but he’s already cursed enough it’ll probably happen anyway

username HAHAHA SO TRUE 😭

username someone said y/n’s rep era would be the only positive out of the charles-bianca thing BUT THIS IS PAINFUL. PLEASE MAKE IT STOP I WANT HAPPY Y/N BACK.

username oh god the first and last slides 💔💔💔

username she’s not even denying it anymore…

username i’m going to pray every day from now that charles comes to his senses and tells her how he feels 🙏🙏

username can i join you

username and me

username our delusional asses need to stick together rn 😔🙏

username on a slightly less sad note THE AMOUNT OF LIKES THIS HAS GOT OMG.

username as it should! y/n’s talent needs to be more widely recognised 😌

username @charles_leclerc you’re breaking all our hearts here

liked by f1wags and 15,736 others

formula1updates Charles Leclerc after his DNF in Monza 💔

view all comments…

username karma.

username honestly it serves him right

username we manifesting it guys !!

username i want to be sad because that’s his championship hopes completely out of the window but he genuinely deserves it after the way he’s treated y/n…

username you mess with y/n you mess WITH GOD BITCH

username lmao it’s so funny that he brings his little girlfriend with him and then crashes out 3 laps in 😭

username he KNOWS he deserves it as well

comments on this post have been limited.

yourfriend

yourusername toujours mon amour 🩷 arthur_leclerc take care of her please ↳ yourfriend what do you think i’m doing? 🙄 joris_trouche can’t believe i wasn’t invited 😔 ↳ yourfriend do you understand the meaning of a ‘girl’s trip’? charles_leclerc please can you ask her to answer my texts? ↳ yourfriend why should i? you’ve already hurt her enough.

three weeks later…

liked by charles_leclerc and 26,836 others

tagged: yourfriend

yourusername healing 🌊🤍🌙

view all comments…

yourfriend la plus belle fille 💕/ the most beautiful girl

yourusername je t’aime <3

leclerc_pascale Reviens vite à la maison, mon ange 🤍 / come home soon, angel

yourusername tu me manques, maman 🥹

username the strongest person i know 🩵

*yourusername liked this comment

arthur_leclerc i never thought i’d say these words but i miss you ☹️

yourusername awww arth 🥹🥹 i miss you too x

joris_trouche still sad i wasn’t invited on the girl’s trip :’((

yourfriend tais toi, stupide 🙄 / shut up, stupid

yourusername 😭😭

joris_trouche rude 🙁

username guys are we all seeing the same thing right now or am i hallucinating 😳

username charles liked??

username OMG IM NOT HALLUCINATING

username CODE RED 🚨🚨🚨‼️‼️‼️ CHARLES LIKED EVERYBODY STAY CALM

username not charles trying to crawl his way back bitch please 😭

username @/yourusername tell him to go fuck himself x

username HAHSHAH STOP

username nah i’m calling it he’s definitely been lurking around her and y/f/n’s stories for weeks trying to figure out how to win her back 🤞🤞🤞

username girl you’re delulu if you think y/n’s gonna take him back that easily 🙄

username y’all just ignoring the fact that he still has a whole ass girlfriend 😭😭

username let me be delulu in peace please and thanks. 😐

username this is the mediterranean girl summer i want 😍

username how to be y/n y/l/n

username babe this isn’t google

username this bianca girl has NOTHING on y/n

username fr she’s literally a goddess 😫

username if charles doesn’t want her i’ll gladly take her 🤭

username two pretty best friends 🤩

username the growth 🤍 @/yourusername i’m manifesting love and happiness for you girl !! no one deserves it more 😘

yourusername thank you my love 🥹🥹

username charles get tf out of here 😂

username lmaooo he’s ruining the hot girl summer vibe

➜ part 5

tagged: @incoherenciass

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goddess-aelin · 21 days

Text

Lovestruck

Day 2 of Rowaelin month- spies/heist AU

A follow up to Lovesick- highly recommend reading that one before this one. Otherwise you'll probably be lost

Masterlist

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: stealing, small injury

“Aelin?” Rowan’s heart completely dropped to his stomach. Why was the woman he had seen just hours ago sitting on his fire escape, clad in black and laying next to a broken statue like she was on some sort of fucking art heist?

“Ro..I…Agh.” Aelin clutched her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if she was in pain. “Fuck.”

Rowan could only stare.

“I swear this isn’t what it looks like.” Aelin’s turquoise eyes met his own. She shifted her hand behind her to sit up more sturdily but a hiss of pain escaped her lips instead.

And at that moment, Rowan really couldn’t have cared whether she was in the middle of stealing the fucking Declaration of Independence, he couldn’t bear to see her in pain. “Fuck, Aelin. Come here.” He pushed his window up just far enough that he could reach out and pull her toward him. He picked her up with a gentleness that surprised even him given the circumstances, watching for any injuries or flinches of pain. Setting her down on the couch, he started to make his way to the kitchen but thought better of it and held his hand out to Aelin, instead. “Give me your glove.”

“What?”

He made a motion with his hand. “Give me your glove. Quickly.” Hesitantly, she did as she was asked, handing her black leather glove over to Rowan. Even though it was at least three sizes too small, Rowan shoved as much of his hand into the glove as he could and went once again to the window. Leaning out, he gently picked up the pieces of the broken statue, making sure that he got every little piece before closing the window.

As he turned back to Aelin, he could tell she was gobsmacked.

“Why are you helping me?”

Rowan just sighed but didn’t answer her question. “How about we start with me wrapping that wrist and then you can tell me what you were doing on my fire escape at two in the morning with a suspiciously familiar statue.”

While she didn’t necessarily look happy, Aelin nodded. “Deal.”

“Can you walk?” At his question, Aelin nodded, and got up to follow him to the kitchen.

She sat at one of the high-top stools at his kitchen island and he could feel her piercing gaze on his back as he rifled through the cabinets to find a wrap for her wrist. Returning to her once he found it, he grabbed her hand, inspecting for any cuts or scrapes. Finding none, he started pushing at her skin in different areas. She hissed as his fingers met the already-forming bruise.

“Luckily, I think it’s just a sprain. I’ll wrap it but if it feels any different tomorrow, you should go get an x-ray.”

Aelin snorted. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Rowan raised his eyebrows at that. But still he said nothing, trying and failing to gather his thoughts around this strange, beautiful, and mysterious woman. Gently, he began wrapping her wrist with the bandages.

“So you just keep a wrist wrap in your kitchen?”

“I’m a doctor, remember? I have medical supplies all over my apartment.” Aelin let out a huff of breath at that. “Are you going to tell me why I found you out there, looking as if you were falling from the heavens?”

Aelin sighed, gathering her thoughts. “I swear to you, it was not what you think. I wasn’t stealing the statue from the art gallery above.” Rowan met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I was stealing the statue but I swear I had a good reason.”

Aelin took a deep breath to steal herself. “I come from a long line of Terrasen royalty. Of course, we don’t have a monarchy anymore so I’m just a normal citizen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about my family’s history. My great-great grandfather had a collection of artifacts that dated all the way back to King Brannon’s line. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Rowan nodded in affirmation. “Well that broken statue was one of the last known pieces from that time period. My great-great grandfather passed it down to my great grandfather, he to my grandfather, and then it should’ve passed onto my father. But this guy, Arobynn Hamel, took it instead”

“The Arobynn Hamel that owns the art gallery upstairs?”

Aelin nodded. “If we come from a long line of Terrasen royalty, then he comes from a long line of people who tried to steal the throne from us. So I guess he felt like he was entitled to this particular statue and when my grandfather died. Imagine our surprise when the will was read and our family heirloom was suddenly passed down to a guy no one could stand.”

"Sounds fishy.”

“It was. There was no way that my grandfather would have given it to him. None. I grew up being a part of my grandfather’s life and I still remember his disdain for the man. Without my dad here to stop me anymore, I guess I just wanted to have a piece of our family history back.”

“So why did you feel like you needed to do this in the dead of night instead of fighting for it via legal routes?”

Aelin’s rueful smile slowly grew into a smirk. “Where would the fun be in that?”

Rowan couldn’t hold back his huff of laughter. This woman. She was going to be the death of him. Aelin’s face suddenly got serious. “Are you mad?”

Rowan furrowed his brows. “Mad? No.” He sighed. “Concerned? Yes, of course.”

Aelin swallowed loudly. “Are you going to turn me in?”

Rowan really tried to make a good show of contemplating. But his strength when it came to this woman was nonexistent. He caved much sooner than he would’ve liked and feared he gave away much of his emotion in the process. “Of course not. If I turned you in, I wouldn’t get to go on another date with you and we can’t have that, can we?”

Aelin beamed. Slowly, as if he were a skittish deer, Aelin leaned in and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you, Rowan.”

Tilting his head so that he could place a gentle kiss upon her lips, Rowan whispered “You’re welcome.”

The oven beeping broke them out of their little bubble that wholly encompassed them. It was at that moment that he could tell that Aelin finally smelled the melting chocolate and sugary goodness.

Slowly, like a cat, her eyes met his, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Are those for me?”

Rowan shrugged, nonchalant. “Maybe.”

Aelin softly swatted at him. “You’re a dork. But…” Her gaze was piercing as she pursed her lips, debating on her next statement. “But you’re my dork.”

Rowan could feel something in his chest alight at her statement. He was her dork. Given that he just found her on his fire escape after she stole a priceless heirloom, warning bells probably should have been going off in Rowan’s head. But all he could think was, “And you’re a thief. But…” He pecked her nose. “You’re my thief.”

A/N: Happy Day 2 of Rowaelin Month! I have some stuff planned though none of it written but I'm glad to have even gotten this piece out!

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinscourt

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killshotbabe · 2 years

Text

Title | Overheated

Pairing | high school friend’s crush/bf!Jeno x reader ft. nct dream (minor appearance)

Warnings | minors dni! mention of smoking and alcohol consumption, use of swear words, reader stuck in an “uncomfortable” situation, close proximity, drunk!reader at some point, sexual tension, cheating/affair, jeno gaslights reader (or does he really?), fingering, implied solo masturbation, slight somnophilia, a bit "dub non-con" in the beginning, overstimulation, sex under the influence (reader only), dirty talk, unprotected sex (please wear protection!), implied public sex, no romance in any type of context

Word count | 4.5k

Song(s) | red - santino le saint, link up - kid travis

A.N | May or may not have dreamed about the idea of this lol. Just finished it today so happy valentines! (this one-shot won't make you blush that way...)

You’re not sure why your friend decided to it would be a good idea to go out with someone like him to begin with.

At first, you thought she’d get over him like usual, hoping it’s just a part of her “hyper-fixations” just like how she’s got maybe five crushes all at once (from what you can recall in one of those nights you spent hanging out in her bedroom) but much to your horror, it wasn’t as simple as that.

You remember her gawking at him at the cafeteria after she had jokingly pinched you, nudging you to check him out in which caused to roll your eyes and proceed to open the cap of your cold tea.

You didn’t care about crushes at all, and yes, he was cute, handsome even but the only thing that piqued your interest at the moment was that sleek navy blue motorcycle he brought to school. You’ve always wanted one and to say that you were jealous of him flexing one at such young age is nothing but an understatement — you wanted what he had even if you couldn’t afford it.

And that wasn’t fair to you. Not when he barely has to do anything when you’re out here working part-time at a pizza parlour and you can barely even pay half of the bills at home.

Him and his old money status can go to hell, you think. He doesn’t even need to show up to any of his classes and you’re one-hundred percent sure he’ll be able to get into any top universities so easily, he just has to maybe tell his parents—

“Hey, are you listening?”

You blink away from your train of thought, the faint bustle of the library buzzing into your ear.

You realize you’re still in the same place for about three hours now, trying to study with the same friend (which would be your only friend, not best friend yet though because you don’t like getting attached to things, let alone actual people) who had been yapping about him for the past hour, and you may or may not have told her to shut the fuck up in your head twice.

“Wait, sorry.” You lie, typing away as your friend broke into a sly grin after finally catching your attention. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m gonna talk to Jeno today.”

Jeno.

Him.

You couldn’t help but squint, almost bursting out of laughter.

You didn’t mind your friend at all.

She was fun, even if she’s the complete opposite of you. Loved cute things like pastel colours, calico critters and dressed the part as 1/4 of the future art majors in your campus (quirky, and she happened to obsessed with colour yellow), and collects a shit ton of squishmallows she even has a separate storage for it. She’s literally the true epitome of cute, preppy and pure.

Way too pure when it comes to that said department actually.

You weren’t even sure how someone like you were friends with her, and why she wouldn’t leave you alone but she was quite persistent with you — having to initiate things first after meeting you then following you around until you decided to just let her have at it.

Ever since then the two of you had been inseparable.

Though that didn’t mean you two were automatically best friends (even if she did say this a couple of times) and you would be lying if you saw it that way too when she mostly talked about herself, her hobbies, her interests, etc. unlike you who just sits there and listens, nodding your head off as if you do agree (mostly you don’t because you can’t relate or it’s just not your style) but you don’t really have the heart to tell her that… not when she’s generally nice and hasn’t really done anything to offend you.

You just admire the fact that she keeps dragging you around and never gave up on you. You don’t even know what made her want to work her butt off to earn your approval and have her invade your space like that, but you guessed that maybe she’s just someone you might need in your life.

…And that maybe, she’s there for a reason you can’t quite guess.

She hasn’t done anything stupid anyway.

…Until today.

“What?”

You balked, brows raised as she sighed dreamily, already planning her wedding dress for when she ends up marrying Jeno, her “soon-to-be high school sweetheart” as she mentioned just a few times and might have tried to manifest too with you in her room in front of her mini crystal collection she’s been obsessed with lately.

“I’m gonna say hi to him today! I’m sick of him not knowing who I am.”

If anything, you weren’t really surprised with this sudden revelation.

It was about time for her to finally try to introduce herself to him after crushing on him for two months now, and you do know she would have the great confidence to almost pursue anything, including him but you didn’t really want this day to come (hell, the thought of it was already dreadful) because you already knew what was bound to happen once she approaches him.

It’s like… surrendering a fawn to a den full of lions, and you can’t do anything but watch her get eaten, figuratively-speaking.

“You don’t look too happy, but that won’t stop me y’know.”

She winked mischievously, stealing a tomato chip off your lunch as you shook your head, a little smile playing on the edge of your lips.

“Do whatever you want but don’t rope me into your shit.”

You shrugged only to earn a scowl from her, her round eyes practically begging you to tag along when she introduces herself to him later on.

“But… c’mon! You don’t even have to say anything you just have to be there for moral support, pretty please?”

You could only sigh, pausing whatever you were doing just to look at her in the eye, already incapable of saying ‘no’ to her because in your defense she looked too cute.

You couldn’t afford to break her heart by saying no.

“Fine… whatever! Just get me ice cream after then we’re good.”

“Oh, I was about to say that too in case he rejects me ha ha,” she laughs off as she sipped on her watered down mango juice. “But at least I tried, yes? Then we can just enjoy our little ice cream date but I might cry…”

You weren’t even worried about that all, but you don’t say that part to your friend because guys like Jeno fancied cute girls.

Especially the innocent ones.

And your friend just might be the perfect girl for him.

To say that you weren’t right would be a goddamn lie, and you wished you were anywhere else but here, inside Jeno’s black sports car, the posh leather seat cold under your lap.

It’s been a month since the day your friend had introduced herself to him with such spark in her eyes you thought Jeno’s friends might have fallen for her too. One of them was even eyeing her from head to toe, visibly amused after seeing her short little skirt hugging her little frame.

Your friend, on top of being the real embodiment of cute, was still gorgeous and easy on the eyes, so it didn’t really surprise you when Jeno ended up giving his number to her as you tucked yourself away from his plain sight, hiding behind your much shorter friend when she confessed her feelings to him with so much confidence, it made you gag.

You weren’t really sure what happened overnight but just a week after, you found yourself on your own as your friend started hanging out with Jeno, his friends and their equally cute “girlfriends”, but she still made sure to spend half of her lunch break with you, even trying to drag you to their table but you could only reject her offer and excuse yourself because you had to catch up on an “assignment” when in reality, you would rather sit in the library by yourself than sit with them.

Then, today, you and your friend was supposed to go shopping by train but what she didn’t tell you was Jeno was gonna be there to drive the two of you so you don’t have to commute on the way to the mall and on the way back.

At first, you fumed having to deal with him being in an inclosed space as you, but it was indeed cold outside now that it’s halfway October and you certainly didn’t want to wait for the train with you friend in this type of weather (and maybe you did want to see his car up close and personal…) so you begrudgingly agreed, letting her yank you off your misery and plunge you into it all when she voluntarily pushed you to the backseat, your eyes drifting to Jeno who’s still talking to one of his friends, Mark, another guy from his group you do find just as attractive.

You could only roll your eyes as your friend wore her seatbelt on, giddily humming to herself. You gradually shifted your attention elsewhere, quite amazed with the clean and sleek interior of his car, but again it made sense.

Jeno was neat, never messy.

“Sorry, Mark was being clingy.”

You briefly hear him quickly apologize with a low chuckle as he slipped behind the wheel, his classy, citrusy scent invading your senses.

You cross your arms and looked away, trying to get him off your head as your friend’s slightly high-pitched voice cooed him “it”s okay!” and that “we can wait” ultimately, ignoring that fact that she just called him “babe” after.

This was one major thing you couldn’t bring yourself to fully admit — the fact that he’s now officially “seeing” your friend not even after a few months in which you felt no ounce of happiness about.

Your friend did inform you about it just a few nights before when she asked if you could come over and watch a scary movie with her because she noticed you were too busy and had no time with her (and you did feel bad because even if she’s always with him, she till spent some time with you only for you to run away for the most part) but she didn’t confront you about it at all.

If anything, it seemed like the usual chill nights you’d share with her until she brought him up and dropped the bomb on you without some sort of a warning beforehand especially when she can tell you’re not fond of Jeno nor his friends.

It felt like a sick joke, and it just feels like you friend is doing her best to make you change your mind about him which you don’t plan on doing so, not when you catch him doing PDA with your friend here and there you couldn’t help but swear at him in your head and look away.

The more time you had to spend with those two, sometimes with their friends, made you want to crumble or run off to the opposite direction.

They were exactly like what you imagined them to be, a couple of rich, privileged kids with filthy heads, the filth your friend is too innocent to be able discern.

They were sneaky about it too especially that Haechan guy who might have tried to get into your pants before, and you hated him so bad you had to tell him to back off you in which he called you feisty in return with the sinister promise of “you’ll want me someday.” before he left you to go smoke.

The rest of the group hasn’t really said anything to you yet. Sometimes they did but it was shallow and the girls hated your guts which is fair because you hated them as much (and with passion too). The only person you could perhaps stand in the group was Renjun.

The guy didn’t make any back-handed comments and he kept to himself for the most part but he did flash you a gaze occasionally wondering why you’re even here to begin with when it’s so damn obvious you don’t like anyone except your friend who always made sure you were included even if you tried to get away, and when you do try… it always ends with her getting what she wants.

And now you’re here, lost in your thoughts as you bore your full attention to the rows of yellow lights in the tunnel, the loud laughter your friend shared with Jeno mocking you.

He did leave the two of you alone to go shopping, and just came back to pick the you up as promised, then he’s supposed to drop you off first before her then they might go on a date like she told you earlier with so much excitement she couldn’t even choose between the two purses at a high-end store you were helping to choose from.

In the end, the two of you walked out the store satisfied — her with a new heart-shaped purse and you with a cashmere scarf you’ve been fancying on for months now that was on sale (which did hurt your bank account but your friend offered to pay half of it so you can just pay her back with instalments) this then provided some sort of a distraction for you, even offering to buy her a warm drink from the cafe as a sweet treat but since Jeno was already parked by the exit, you had to hurry.

They were still giggling as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the urge to strap your headphones around your head getting stronger the more you tuned in, even rolling your eyes when Jeno asked for her hand so he could give it a kiss as if you weren’t just there, witnessing the horrors.

Much to your looming demise, you try to relax and lay your head back with a determined attempt to lull yourself to quick nap anyway since your apartment is around thirty minutes away, so you fold your arms, turned your head to face the window and closed your eyes.

Not even ten minutes later, just when you were about to actually let sleep take over, your hear the deep rumble of Jeno’s voice.

“She’s asleep isn’t she?”

There was a slight movement from your friend, causing you to hold your breath as you feel her check on you.

“Yep, she did say she was tired.”

“She doesn’t talk much. Why are you even friends with her?”

Jeno snickered, taunting you from the rear-view mirror as you tried your best not to reach out and strangle him god willing.

He doesn’t even know you like that.

“She’s nice! Just give her some time.” You friend sighed, defending your honour which you almost snorted at but pretending to be asleep at this very moment was more ideal for you, you think.

You pushed yourself to further into the door, eyelids slightly parting just in time to see him give her a sleazy wink before you saw his hand land on her lap, making your heart drop at the sight.

You weren’t sure if you liked where this was going at all.

“She’s sleeping Jeno…”

You clawed on your sleeved, clenching your jaw when you hear Jeno whisper rather suggestively.

You knew it was meant for your friend, but he didn’t even bother hiding it, assuming you’re fully knocked out at the back seat.

“If you can keep it down, she won’t know.”

You swore you almost cried, knuckles turning white for how hard you formed into fists when you hear your friend’s shy giggles which enveloped to a series of quiet moans from the front seat when he began touching her down there as he drove, the soft r&b blaring from his speakers in an attempt to suppress the noises your friend was trying so hard to hide so she won’t wake you up, when in reality, you were very much awake to witness all of this happening.

At this point, you genuinely wished you were dead, begging for the door to just unlatch itself so you can slide off your seat and fall into the road to your death than sit here, being forced to hear your friend let out a strangled moan as he fingered her, easily dragging her close to her peak.

You wanted it to stop — for them to just cut it out and put an end to your nightmare but it only got worse as the time went by.

You can practically hear the lewd noises Jeno was making with his fingers as he played with her sheer arousal and the way he was talking to her in such a dirty manner for the sole purpose to make her cum in which she violently did just a few minutes later, an animalistic high-pitched squeak leaving her lips before she heaving and moaning his name shakily with him still fucking her with fervour, overstimulating her.

The subsequent scarlet hue spread on your cheeks, heating your face up, second-hand embarrassment kicking in as you chewed on your lip until you drew blood from your cracked ones, neck craning all the way to your side so your scarf could hide the horrified expression on your face.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or laugh — cry because he had the audacity to finger your friend at your presence or laugh because of the high-pitched noise your friend made. You think it’s a mixture of both and you think you might have gone clinically insane from that alone as this was not a part of your bingo card.

It’s only been a few weeks. Have they fucked already?

You try to contain yourself as you kept still when you hear them share a languid kiss in which your friend giggled to before she flashed you a quick gaze, making sure you were in fact, still asleep.

“She probably didn’t hear that did she?”

“I’m sure she didn’t.” Jeno’s mocking tone caused you to move slightly, but not enough to make him think you were awake all along.

Your neck became stiff after what seemed like forever, and as much as you wanted to stay in this painful position you knew you had rouse yourself up just because you couldn’t handle “sleeping” anymore, so you waited until your friend led him to your street as she navigated for him.

It was then the only time you stirred yourself up, alerting the both of them that you were now “awake.”

“Hey, sleepy head!”

You yawned, trying to look at her in the eye in the dark as you borrowed into your scarf, hiding half of your face.

“Yo.”

You diverted your to the windows and recognized your surroundings as the car halted just in front of your apartment complex, relief surging through you in sudden realization that you’re finally home.

“Thank god.”

You murmured under your breath, hand already fixed to the door handle, about to yank yourself out of there when your friend stopped you just before you can leave.

“See you next week!”

She piped up, her pupils shaking in pure excitement you almost asked what the hell she smoked to look like that when you already knew it was due to post-orgasm high.

You couldn’t help but to mirror her expression, but with a completely different reason.

You think you might want to commit right there if you kept smiling for ten more seconds, much like an unhinged criminal.

“Yeah! See you and thanks for the ride, Jeno.”

“Anytime.”

You see him nod at you, acknowledging your thankful nature (he probably though you were incapable of doing that) before you sprinted off, the two of them watching you attentively as you pushed yourself inside the lobby, cursing vehemently under your breath.

You didn’t even sleep that night, not when you find your underwear being wet from your own arousal after thinking about it again.

You don’t even like Jeno to any degree and yet, you still dreamed of him but not for good reasons.

Not at all.

And if your friend was to find out, it would be game over.

“I might have a friend who can take me in so Tony can come and fix this.”

You sigh, seeing as how the flooding got worse over the weekend due to the nonstop rainy weather and you, unfortunately, still rents the basement of a hosting family your mother personally knew but since they were on vacation in the UK and the main floor is locked, you can’t even access the floor and camp in the couch until the flooding issue gets fixed.

You’ve been on the phone with your host for an hour now explaining everything, and that they were going dispatch a friend to fix the damage shortly but still advised you that you’ll probably want to look for a friend to sleep over at for the mean time which you were okay with but you didn’t really want to do that even if you had no choice.

Hotels were costly so you dialled your only friend anyway whilst chugging what’s left from your coffee cup before tossing it in the nearby bin.

You’re in a local library now, left with nothing but a small suitcase you hastily shoved most of your every day necessities in to cover one week’s worth. Your host did say it should be okay to come back in a week or less so you made sure not to overpack, and you didn’t really want to stay there for longer, not when the slightly murky water felt cold around your feet.

“What? Are you serious!”

You sighed for what seemed like the 100th time today as you told your friend the whole situation.

“Not sure if this is going work but do you think you can take me in?” You inwardly groaned. “I can pay you.”

“Boo, I wish I can but my aunt’s over with my cousins I don’t have a space for you. Maybe after four days? They leave on Friday!”

“Well that won’t work, thank you though. I’ll go find a hotel—”

“No, no that’s going to be more expensive I can get someone to take you in though if that’s ok?”

You hummed, picking on your nail at the thought. Might as well give it a try.

“Sure…?”

“Ok, great! Give me a sec!”

You hear some sort of a movement from the other line before you hear your friend’s muffled voice once again.

“I just texted Jeno! He should be done working out right now. Where are you?”

“What?!” You let out a harsh whisper, trying to calm down realizing you’re in fact, still in a library. “Jeno—? I didn’t even agree just yet!”

“Well, he’s the only person I one-hundred percent trust with you even if you guys don’t talk but he’s got a huge place you can stay in and then he can even pick both of us up for school!”

“No,” You clutched your head in annoyance, trying your best not to hiss. “I— I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“What? Why? He already said he can do that though just now and I really don’t want you to spend money in a hotel. Too expensive. Good luck with Jeno though because he’ll say no with paying so you’re in good hands!” She laughed a little, making you huff on the other line. “Please? Maybe you guys can be friends. It gets so awkward when I’m with the both of you and you don’t even talk to him…”

“It’s just…” You try to explain. “I don’t know I feel like it’s so rude of me to just—”

“Honey, you’re not being rude! He literally said yes, and he’s got like two cars over there that you might like. If you ask nicely, maybe he can let you drive one to school? How about that?”

You wished she didn’t mention that at all, especially knowing that sport scars were your weakness in general and Jeno happened own two more aside from the one he drives to school.

You weren’t even sure if you had any ounce of dignity left at this point.

Hotels were costly, and you didn’t want to ask your mom for money to spend in a hotel thinking you’ve got a friend to cover for you, plus what you make from your part-time job wasn’t enough to foot the bill if you were to opt for a hotel.

If it was someone else, perhaps Mark or Renjun, you would probably agree without missing a beat (not like they would offer themselves in the first place, but if they did, you’d rather be with them) but this was Jeno.

The guy you’re friend is “seeing” and the same guy you thought about that night when you shouldn’t have.

You don’t even know if you could look at him in the eye anymore, and now you would have to stay over because he’s that nice?

“Heeeey, are you okay? I thought you ended the call for a second there.”

You cleared your throat, trying to make up your mind.

Am I gonna do this or not? Why the fuck would he even agree to this…

“I’m here sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I really want you guys to start talking… Don’t you think this is a good idea? He thinks it might be good too.”

“He said that?” You almost laugh. “Thank you, but…”

“He did actually and no buts! Do this for me please?”

“You… fine, fine…” You say as you give up, letting her win over you again.

“Okay! Yay!”

You hear her clasp her hands together before she asked where your exact location was again, intending to forward it to Jeno.

In the end, she simply gave your number to him so it would be easier, logically speaking, but you didn’t even want to save his number at all or have that exchange. It felt so weird to have him there, in your short list of contacts when you don’t even consider him a “friend” for that matter.

You weren’t even sure if you were doing your friend a “favour” even if she did say she trusts Jeno because deep down, you knew she shouldn’t be putting all the trust to him, not when you’re in the picture.

Especially not when you’re about to be confined in one space with no one else but him for god knows how long.

He didn’t even bat an eye when you slipped into the front seat of his car as he was in the middle of a conversation what you can assume would be Jaemin, blabbing something about some new pc game he got, so you strapped your seatbelt on quietly, not sure when would be the good time to thank him when you can’t even look at him in the eye.

“K, heading home. Talk later.”

He didn’t say anything either so you slowly fixed half of your attention to the road ahead of you and his one hand steering the wheel expertly, then gradually moved past that so you can finally glance up there, to his gorgeous side profile in which you admire a little.

He’s even more handsome this close, with his tall nose, perfect jawline and glowing fair skin — you thought you might have forgotten your words but you quickly look away, feeling the nervous energy course through your veins.

“No thank you?”

There was a slight tinge of tease in his tone, so you clear your throat, refusing to actually spare him another glance afraid that he might catch you looking more that you should have.

“Sorry… Just sad about the whole situation, but thank you for taking me in. I hope that’s okay with your parents…”

“Don’t worry.” He chuckled a little. “They’re in the Caribbean Islands right now. No one’s home.”

“Oh, that’s great.” You weren’t even sure if that offered some sort of relief on your end. “Always wanted to go there.”

“Maybe if you start hanging out with us more then I can take you there for the summer with the group?”

You think he might be joking, so you treat it as such, trying not to derail from what seemed like a pleasant conversation you two are actually having.

You knew your friend would be happy to hear the fact that you can actually get along just fine, but because of how you see Jeno and his friends in such a negative light, you’re not sure if you had the ability to stop being stubborn for once.

“Maybe.”

You sigh, now shifting your gaze to him again, noticing his muscular, yet lean upper body hugged by just one layer of his black turtle neck. You couldn’t help but to ogle a little, but you do look away, feeling the slight guilt creeping down your spine.

He’s literally one move away from dating your friend, so why do you find it so hard to look away? Not when there are more conventionally attractive guys in the group? Like Mark? Renjun?

I have eyes. I can look, that’s it. It won’t hurt.

“Oh, c’mon the more the merrier.” There was some sort of a drawl in his tone you couldn’t quite miss, but maybe you might have been imagining things. “Let’s see if I end up liking you enough though then maybe I’ll work so hard to drag you into the group and come with us to the Caribbean next summer vacation, yeah?”

Or were you really imagining things?

The first night wasn’t bad.

You learn that your friend wasn’t exaggerating when she did tell you he lives in a mansion.

There was a huge fountain in the middle of a private cul-de-sac, two mermaids made out of a slab of rock perched in right in the centre, flowing water trickling from the matching queen conches.

The gate was tall, and the impressive gigantic lot is nestled in what seemed like a canopy of endless tall pine trees. They literally had no neighbours close by and the entirety of the driveway was an actual boulevard, you think they could possibly fit another house over the area.

It felt like you entered a different dimension — the gated community of the rich didn’t feel real at all. Even the air felt expensive, and just when you thought that wasn’t enough, Jeno allowed you to spare a longing gaze to his two other fancy cars parked in a quadruple-door garage.

He did notice your obvious interest with the exterior of his cars so he lets you have your fun until you found yourselves darting inside his own floor which could pass as some sort of a penthouse.

You think he might not even see his parents even if they were in one house altogether halfway in. Hell, if there was party being hosted by him for two days in a row his parents won’t probably hear any of it.

“I have a spare room when the guys sleep over so you can stay there for now. Don’t think I’d have anyone over soon so you’re good.”

You stand in the middle of the spare room, checking the surroundings like some sort of a curious cat.

It was super neat, had some distinctive art pieces by the walls, but it did look like where they would hang out judging from the game consoles tucked into the black drawers under the gigantic screen tv and the mini fridge with a snack bar situated in a corner surrounded by neon lights.

“Thanks again, Jeno.”

You tell him as he leaned against the doorway, a pleasant expression on his face upon noticing the way you looked awestruck with the room arrangement.

“No probs. I’m just one door away so let me know if you need anything. Usually up until 1 am. My maid isn’t here she’s on vacay so just it’s just us two.”

“Sure.”

He left you alone like that, letting you bask at thought of him even having a maid. You think he might have an entire staff like a “head chef” running the house, but sooner or later you learn they’re all on vacation since they were all related which leaves you and Jeno all alone in such a big house, though despite that, you couldn’t help but feel the foreboding anxiety blaring through you like fire alarms.

There was an itch you couldn’t pinpoint and it drove you crazy the more you stayed over, and even if the first night went equally well like normal, you couldn’t help but feel some sort of guilt wrecking through you, so for the next two days you got in touch with Tony, the maintenance guy, in hopes to hear something positive about the situation back home so leave early.

Much to your demise, it won’t be until a few days so you gave up, trying to calm yourself down as you tucked yourself to bed right after doing your homework on your third night.

Your friend visited you a few hours before but since her and Jeno had plans for the night which involved the guys, Jeno might be coming home around dawn. You couldn’t help but feel the crash of relief to be finally alone for once which was bad for you to admit since you’re literally staying in his house for free, but having him there to share a space with made you feel too damn guarded and you hated that.

It wasn’t like he was watching you either — if anything, you’re the one who was doing more of that especially when you ate together after he offered to cook, and if he did order take-out, he asked what you wanted and delivered it right to your door just because you didn’t feel like going downstairs when you should’ve offered but upon finding out he was in the ground floor from their own home gym, you decided not to.

He didn’t even bother putting a shirt on when he knocked on your door, letting you see his bare abs through the wide split of the door so you were quiet thankful you didn’t make your way downstairs even when the damage has been done and it did nothing but make things worse for you.

“The passcode is the last four numbers of you number.”

He concluded as he gave you a quick rundown of instructions in terms of the security system.

You nodded obediently, quite touched at the fact that he made you your own designated password even if you’re only staying for a couple of days.

You weren’t friends with him yet, but he sure made things easier and was quite civilized the entire time, even putting all the trust in you to be in the house but the cams were all on so he can literally see what you would be up to unless you lock yourself in your room.

You follow closely behind him and your friend now holding hands with him as the three of you entered the garage. Your friend gave you a little pat on a head muttering a “good girl” in a light, teasing tone before they eventually drove away, leaving you by yourself for the next few hours.

You actually planned to do a mini tour and explore the other floors besides Jeno’s floor but because you didn’t want to end up falling to any “trap” doors (Jeno did mention that once as a joke but you didn’t want to risk it) you chose to stay in your room instead and watched movies on netflix with a plan to reheat the leftover pizza from last night.

Around midnight, you found yourself by the mini bar, wanting to try some of the alcohol he had so you pop a Hennessy from the glass shelf into a mug instead to pair with some sun chips to munch on at midst of a thriller movie you picked.

After downing what seemed to be a couple of glasses within the passing hours, you nursed an impending headache throbbing in your head. You could only curse, the thought of being completely hangover the next day already pissing you off.

You were more of a social drinker, but you think it’s been a while since the last time you attended a party and back then, it wasn’t so bad. You were still able to walk and say sentences incoherently after a few shots but this was worse.

You’re severely tipsy at this point, gaze all hazy as you attempt to shut the tv off, squinting over the rolling credits you can barely read off from.

You yank your crewneck over your head after feeling too hot, opting for just a mid-length slip as you tumbled out of your room, wanting to head to the bathroom with the sudden urge to splash some icy cold water on your face but you weren’t fully thinking as to where you were heading until you managed to somehow push into Jeno’s room, arms splayed in the dim-lit space.

You stumbled your way into his own bathroom adjacent to his bookcase, locking yourself in.

You were about to pass out inside, suddenly too sleepy to function but still made it out of there only to end up locating his equally large, yet better bed, his sheets cool under your skin which eased up the liquid fire running in your bloodstream.

You weren’t really sure what you did next, but the faint smell of his citrusy scent from his nice, cold sheets, you didn’t care about anything else and instead, slept through the great comfort of it all.

Unbeknownst of you, Jeno did end up going back home earlier than planned, but without your friend this time.

He was too exhausted to even notice that something was truly off by the time he got into bed, shirt off, sleep knocking him out a few minutes in.

“She won’t know.”

He placed your arms on the curve of your back as he pinned you to the wall in a hallway absent of any light.

You feel his sweet, minty breath on your nape, his strong hand tight around your wrists in a vice grip with the intention of not letting you go.

You were so breathless now, letting him do what he wished, his free hand tracing the outline of your thigh as he yanked the hem of your dress upwards, groping you from behind, whispering sinisterly in your ear before kissing the slant your shoulder, his hand snaking dangerously inside the silk fabric until he replaced your bra with his, playing with your breasts in a manner that drove you nuts.

“You’ve thought about this haven’t you?” He pressed, as you whimpered helplessly, back arched with your behind brushing against his. “Answer.”

“Y-yes…”

You sigh, unable to control the soft moan emitting from your throat when he eventually slid his hand in your underwear, callused fingers rubbing your clit now covered with pure arousal, spreading it all over your aching sensitivity.

“I didn’t even have to spit.” He hissed sardonically. “But I think you’ll like that, yeah? What do you think? Do you want me to spit on your pussy?”

“F-fuck… yeah…”

You feel him pull his fingers off you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact when you hear him spit behind you, immediately sliding his hand back into your soiled underwear after doing so, messily mixing the glob of his spit with your slick arousal you think if he kept this up, you would cum in no time without even having him fuck you at all.

“You’re disgusting…” He hummed in satisfaction, ultimately parting your pussy lips so he can pump a finger in, his lips leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your spine. “I like that.”

You hear him groan at the feeling your tight walls around his long, slender fingers, a series of swears rolling off your mouth when he began fingering you, fucking his spit into your throbbing hole all desperate for him and him only.

You rubbed your thighs together in a desperate attempt to itch the pulsating sensation between your legs, the bundle of nerves you eventually pressed on in your sleep made you whimper softly, the pleasurable feeling intensifying the more you rubbed yourself.

This was the second time Jeno had unmercilessly plagued your dreams again — like an incubus haunting you in your sleep, but in the end, he gives you what you desire — to come so hard you thought you’d black out.

You’ve never even drawn yourself to that type of high before you even knew who he was, but after what happened in the car, you couldn’t help but think of how good it would be to have him fuck you instead of your friend.

You did feel guilty for having this type of thoughts about your friend’s own boyfriend, but having him wreck havoc in your head after hours, was mind-numbing, it was almost addicting.

You’ve tried and fought so hard to stop thinking about him, trying to replace his face with someone else like Mark, or even Renjun or some other celebrity you fancied but when you’re just a minute away from reaching your peak, you can’t help but bring him back and let him take over you, his face alone making you come so hard your legs would shake as the raw lust mixed with shame riddled all over your skin.

Tonight was the same, except you were actually in his house and on his bed, touching yourself without any awareness about your surroundings and absolute care in the world, not when you had creeped your finger inside your now wet underwear, intending to finger yourself on your side, but before you could do that, you tucked yourself under the comforter seeking for warmth, back flat on the mattress as you slide your hand back in, moaning at the contact once again, legs propped with your knees bumping against each other as you played with yourself, eyes tightly shut.

“It hurts…” You whimpered lightly, still dreaming as you tilt your head to the side, brows furrowing in frustration. “I need…”

Jeno, who had been sleeping just right beside you, eventually stirred, turning to face you with a sigh, starting to be aware with the noises you were making but thought it was a part of what seemed like a dream for him too so he made no move until you inched closer and closer, now only one move away from touching him.

You’re facing him now, his familiar sweet scent elating your senses, it being the only thing to make you move faster, your middle finger playing with your growing wetness before you eventually slid it in, biting your lip at how tight you felt and wishing it was him doing it for you instead.

“Jeno…” You huff, you free hand snaking under your slip to grope your breast, hissing from how hard your nipples had gotten.

Jeno, now half-asleep, responded with a tired “hmm” as he hovered closer, his hand landing on your hip to pull you closer to him, sealing the small gap between the both of you with his face now resting on the curve of your shoulder.

He hears you purr sweetly, fingering yourself faster when you feel him lay a light kiss on your bare skin, his hand finding your jaw so he can tilt your chin up, kissing you there but deeper.

You didn’t even care anymore. No shame surging through you thinking this was a mere wet dream even if it felt too real, so real you could actually see him in the shadow but because the lights were so dim, you couldn’t make a face but his beautiful scent and warmth was more than enough.

You just needed to feel him, have him ruin you more just like how he does in your dreams.

“Aren’t you tired?” He whispered huskily, realizing you were fingering yourself when he circled his own around your wrist, stopping you. “What are you doing?”

“I want…” You mumbled, distress coating your tone when he yanked your hand from your underwear ever so gently. “I want to cum…”

“Want to?” he cooed, keeping his eyes close as he parted his lips open to suck your slick arousal from your fingers, earning another moan from you before he let you grab him on the shoulder, his own hand now snaking inside your underwear.

“Fuck, just-just put it in, please…” You begged, circling your arms around his neck as you lifted your leg, resting it on his hip.

You hear him hum, the deep rumble of it making your head go numb.

He wasted no time, pleased with your whines when he slid his finger inside your soaked pussy, fingering you slowly until you found yourself in a verge of breaking out of a sob, your knuckles turning white on his shoulder as he fucked you faster and harder at your request, fully attentive with the way you were squeezing him, sucking him further into your throbbing cunt, making him go crazy for how increasingly wet you’ve become.

“J-jeno!”

You half-screamed, back arching as he hovered on top of you, his head disappearing on the crook of your neck to kiss you right there before you feel his teeth bite the strap of your slip, yanking it down your shoulders.

He was going way faster now, fingers curving up to rammed on your sweet spot as you struggled under him, thighs closing tightly around his flexed arm just when you’re about to reach your peak.

“Don’t you want to come?” He smiled sleepily, sucking your left nipple with so much want it only drove you closer to your orgasm. “If you’re a good girl, you will, won’t you?”

It was scary how it feel too damn real — you could even hear him up close and personal and it was too overwhelming, but you couldn’t open your eyes, not wanting this dream to ever end, not when he’s about to make you cum so hard like this.

So you pushed through it, the lewd squelching of your wetness from him fucking into you the only thing you could hear, his equally pleased moans gracing your ears when you tell him you’re almost there.

“Fuck, fuck…fuck! I’m,” You cried, shaking violently as you finally snapped, hands flying on his in an attempt to stop him from fingering you in a brutal pace but he didn’t allow you.

Instead, he forced you to ride through it all as you cursed, head thrown back until you began sob from overdrive, thrashing and squirming under him only to make him pin your arms above your head, your slip pulled all the way to your neck, letting him feel your bare skin, your underwear being torn by him, tossing it on the marbled floors.

“I’m fucking you.” He growled, eyes parting slightly, unable to see you fully but the feeling of having you all naked and weak under him made him a little crazy. He wasn’t even sure if this was just a dream anymore, but he had his own personal desires needed to be taken care of. “You’ll let me, right?”

“Please…” You begged as he lifted your dress all the way to your face, turning it into a blindfold causing you to spread your legs wider for him, too aroused with the way he was trying to limit your senses. “Fuck… just do whatever you want, please…use..use me…”

“Can you even take me?” He smirked, tracing small kisses from your jaw all the way to your sternum as your breath hitched. “You’re this desperate, huh?”

You hear him unbuckle his belt as you begged, wanting him to give it to you already, afraid that this dream might come into an end.

“Please, Jeno…”

“Sounds better when you say it like that…”

He sighed, giving himself a few generous strokes before you felt the tip of his hard cock rub your pussy, giving you a few jabs before he slowly slipped inside you just halfway, wanting you to get used to his size so he waits for a tap which came just a few moments later, and gives it to you, a matching lustful moan being knocked out from yours and his.

“So b-big…”

You grabbed his biceps as he held his breath, trying his best not to fuck you like a wild animal for how amazingly tight and warm you felt around him, squeezing around him repeatedly, almost drawing him to the edge.

“Your pussy can take it…” He whispered, fucking into you slowly. “If I fuck you like this, you’ll take it…and if I go faster?”

“Ah!” You cried as he snapped his hips into you, the wetness of your pussy coating his entire cock, drawing him deeper into your cunt. “Don’t stop… fuck, f-fuck feels so good, so so good.”

“I know, baby…” He hissed vehemently, face buried into the crook of your neck as you let him fuck you faster, the slightly deep baritone of your tone intensifying the fact that he wants to ruin you, even if this wasn’t reality because god knows what he will do it had been, but for some reason, he didn’t felt any type of shame if this wasn’t a dream— just the carnal desire he felt for you, the girl who seemed to hate him for no valid reason.

You clutched the sheets as he pistons in and out of you, ultimately driving the both of you to each other’s peak.

He doesn’t let you touch him, his hand fixed to your wrists on top of your head as your jaw went slack, breath hitching as your legs trembled, alerting him that you were there.

“Fuck, spread your legs wider.” He demanded through gritted teeth, strong thighs stuttering against yours as you obediently did what he asked. “That’s it, pretty girl.”

It didn’t take long when the two of you finally came, you being the first to snap as he followed-through just a few seconds later, pulling out of you so he can cum on his bed sheet instead.

You immediately fell asleep right after, smiling through it all just like he did, the looming taste of regret awaiting to ruin everything in the morning.

Or would it?

You awoke to an unfamiliar bed, already panicking upon finding out you’ve been sleeping in his room the entire time so you quickly pad down the silent hall, disappearing inside your own room with a huff.

You ignore the throbbing headache in your head as sat on your bed, a little shaken and not knowing to go about explaining what just happened if he was aware of it, but you think he’s not even home or if he was, did he end up sleeping elsewhere?

You grabbed your crewneck and fixed yourself in front of the mirror, about to head downstairs and find him when you feel something odd, so you lift the hem of your dress, discovering that you didn’t even have an underwear on.

The memory of him taking it off you haunted your train of thought — last night felt too raw, too real and you think it maybe because you’re starting to be delusional, using the advantage of staying in his house and touch his stuff that weren’t yours.

You assume this might have catered to it all and you weren’t even sure if that’s something to be happy or angry about.

You figured it wasn’t — in fact, it was too wrong and you wanted out so you immediately text Tony for an update before heading downstairs to find Jeno.

Jeno, you learn, was not alone.

It was a Saturday after all, and he happens to be on the phone by the living room, his full attention watching the glowing fireplace in front of him, energy drink on-hand as your friend darted from the kitchen, immediately seeing you.

“Oh, she’s up!” She announced, running to hug you with a beam. “Jina and I are going to get our nails done and she’s picking me up, you wanna come?”

“Oh, um… that’s okay.” You falter as Jeno turned to look at you, gaze unreadable. “I’m leaving soon anyway, like going back to my place.”

“Oh! Well maybe next time? Jeno is leaving soon too but won’t be dropping me off. Jeno, help her okay?”

You avoid the way he’s looking at you now, quite embarrassed with the fact that you literally just slept in his bed and even dreamed of him fucking you. You just hoped he had no idea, and if he did know, you knew you couldn’t bear to show face any longer.

“I’ll plan us another date. Just you and I. I promise!”

You let your friend drag you to the entrance and albeit dazed from the unholy thoughts you were suddenly having about Jeno, you managed to brush it off and watch your friend leave, waving her a small good-bye, the guilt surging through you once again after seeing her.

You were just about to lock the door when you feel him hover behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the sound of his deep voice invading your cloud of thoughts.

“I’m gone for one night and you’re suddenly touching stuff that aren’t yours?”

So he did know. But does he know?

“I’m sorry…” You exhale, sighing regretfully but refused to look at him in the eye. “Got a little drunk then looked for the bathroom—“

“See… that wasn’t the only thing I’m upset about though.”

You gulped as you feel him walk closer so you slowly back away, the shocked gasp leaving your lips as you feel the pressure of the door behind you, him towering over you now.

“What?”

“Do you know what I’m talking about?” He questioned, a little on edge. “Don’t act dumb now.”

“I said I was drunk and I’m sorry.” You apologized sincerely, the overwhelming silence skyrocketing your anxiety. “If there was any damage—”

“No, that’s not…” You hear him chuckle as he drove his hand to the door, cornering you like a predator, but you remain still, stopping yourself from looking up or it was going to over. “Do I have to explain?”

“I don’t…”

“You don’t care about your friend, do you?”

Your eyes rounded in shock, immediately tilting your chin up so you can look at him in the eye this time, suddenly angry at his accusation.

“What made you say that?” You snapped, watching him shake his head in amusement but you weren’t buying it. “Jeno.”

“You’re something else.” He whispered softly, eyes searching something in yours before you feel him inch closer to your ear, his lips brushing across the shell of your ear. “You’re insane. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Jeno, what the fuck?”

You pushed him off you but he could only laugh, head tilting to the side, a smirk now evident on his face.

He was too handsome, it almost drove you nuts if it wasn’t for the way he just insulted you.

“Guess I’d be the first but don’t worry, I’m not that angry, you know?”

You clenched your jaw, watching him advance to you again with an intent to pin you against the door.

“You’re full of shit. I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about when all I’ve done is —”

“We fucked.” He sighed, reeling closer when you clamped your mouth shut, looking away from him. “Why, you thought you were dreaming?”

“You’re joking.”

“See, I’d like to think I was. The whole time I thought the same until I find you in my bed in the morning.”

You faltered, unable to think straight when you feel him trace the outline of your jaw, grabbing you by the chin gently to make you shift your attention back to him.

“Jeno.”

“You said my name too. Just like this.” His darkened gaze pierced yours, pupils blown. “You like me that much?”

“We can’t do this.” You grab his wrist, pushing him away with a huff. “It was a mistake!”

“I’d like to think the same but for some reason…” He took another step, completely caging you in just like you were always meant to be for him. “You’re fucking everything up.”

“How is that my fault —”

“You should’ve pursued me first, that’s all.”

Your eyes widen as he cradled your face, drawing you completely speechless.

Turns out, he was crazier, even more sinister with the way he’s touching you so inappropriately right now you feel like pushing him off and running out to escape but you simply couldn’t. You knew you wanted him too even if you shouldn’t.

Not when the damage has already been done, and you’ve opened a pandora box, unleashing his hidden desires on board with yours, the sinful thoughts you’ve been trying so hard to seal away for no one to figure out.

“You don’t give a fuck about her?” You swallowed a lump in your throat, a pained expression on your face as he kept up with his ministrations, his hand now holding yours. “Why are you touching me…”

“I like you.” He confesses with a shrug like it was something so simple to do, his piercing gaze meeting yours again. “You think I’m into your friend?”

“You’re sick.”

You say through gritted teeth, raw anger still there but the more you allowed him to stare you down like this, the more it dissipated. The desperate hold you had around it vanishing to thin air.

“And you think you’re not?”

There was that same fiery edge to his tone now, his grip around your hand tightening. You try to break free from his grasp until you hear his phone ring. You were just about to use that as way to completely push him away, but he cut you off, demanding you to stay still.

“We’re not done.”

You watch him answer the call, fear on your eyes when you discovered it as your friend asking if he could pass the phone over to you just because you weren’t answering yours.

“Talk to her.” He demanded, his stern tone sending shivers all over your body when you placed his phone near your ear.

“Hey,” You greeted your friend, trying to sound as normal as you could before shying away from the way Jeno’s eyeing you right now. “Was in the shower. What’s up?”

You let your friend take-over, asking if you wanted anything from a specific shop near the nail salon she was in and had been trying so hard to get your mind out of the gutter for the past minute that seemed to flow by in forever. You found yourself stuck in the middle — part of you wanted to tell her about what you did just like that no matter what the consequences were but the other half simply haunted you, did you really want to stop? When the guilt should be burning you alive right now but for some reason, you hardly felt anything and you weren’t sure what to make of that.

“You don’t care about your friend, do you?”

“The one with stars is cute but you don’t have to— it’s okay,” You shook your head, completely missing the fact that Jeno had gotten even closer. You catch on to him before he lowers his head to the side of your face, about to murmur something.

“Stop.” With the phone away from your lips, you attempt to get away but he only holds you still, hand fixed to the curve of your waist. “Jeno—”

“Just tell me the details later!” Your friend squealed over the phone. “And tell Jeno to read my text!”

The call ended just before you could utter something but the phone from your hand was snatched away in a millisecond, suddenly finding yourself gasping when Jeno placed his knee in between your thighs, feeling you up with his clothed knee, his hand now groping your breast.

“Quit it, won’t you?” You bit your lip, hand fisting his top as he placed an open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone. “You want to run away so bad but I can see it in your eyes. You want this as much as I do so don’t lie to yourself.”

“Jeno, stop,” You begged, arousal already pulling in your underwear when he forced you to grind down on his thigh, holding all your weight up alone with just that alone. “Jeno…”

“I’ll let you go f that’s what you want.” He grunted as you began to grind on him, growing more aroused with the way you were whining, struggling on his thigh. He challenged you, even if he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist all of this.

Resist him.

You whimpered as he removed his thigh between your legs, letting you off but you don’t make a move.

“You want to go?” You could only gaze back at him, completely in trance as he grinned down at you, his sardonic expression reeling you in. “Then go.”

It didn’t take long until you finally snapped altogether, crashing yourself to him to latch your lips on his in sheer frustration, an audible groan coming from him as he nibbled your bottom lip, lifting you up, hands all over your body.

Sooner or later, you found yourselves in bed, having to have exhausted each other but there were no words shared after it all.

You weren’t even sure what to do next as you laid there beside him, watching him sleep on his back, head turned away from yours. It was then you felt your heart crumble into pieces, the immense jolt of pain suddenly waking you up from trance.

Do I really want to do this?

You left the next morning just like that, not wanting to pursue this wrong deed at all, and without a word other as you hailed a taxi. You deleted and blocked his phone number and made a plan to somehow try to avoid him and your friend for the next few months, but it wasn’t simple like that, and yet, you tried to stay away.

For the next six months, it was like that — with you and your friend slowly falling apart because you no longer shared classes for second semester and you made no amends to even see or spend time with her, having to have met other friends you shared classes with and then her, with the boys and their girls.

You were also thankful of Jeno not pursuing anything with you too. You barely saw him around due to the fact that he did sign up for more sport-related activities so naturally, he disappeared from your sight. He must have thought that it was clearly a mistake just like you did, and you fought to repent for your sins and you wished he did too.

You didn’t keep track about anything that had to do with them anymore and decided to focus on your studies like you’ve always had from the beginning to prepare yourself for graduation and university requirements. Your great efforts did pay off in the end, having to graduate with almost on top of all your classes and getting into one of your top three universities.

Life seemed great for you — quite elated for the next journey you’re bound to go on for the next two years now that senior year was over and so was the evening dinner you had to attend because it was mandatory despite wanting to opt out of it but you made sure to leave early as you had no plans to sit in the fancy banquet of a five-star hotel and “get entertained” when everyone either sat around to chill or lose themselves in the dimmed down dance floor.

By 11 pm, you bid your goodbyes to a panel of teachers, one of them being your favourite, just in the next room in the hall, then gunned down to the parking lot where you parked your car.

You dug your keys in your purse, humming to yourself when you spot someone’s slick black shoes right next to your car so you stop and blink, shifting your attention the wide plain of his familiar broad back, his white dress shirt being the only article of clothing he has on with some tailored black plants that probably cost five months worth of rent.

“Jeno.”

“Nice ride you got.” He drew the cigarette away from his lips, grey smoke hitting your face as you slowly took a step back, unable to form any coherent sentence upon realizing that he’s standing before you now. “New model too. Gift, maybe?”

You do know you’ve been trying to avoid him.

As much as you tried however, he was there, always in a crowd and you never missed a handsome face like his. He burned in the back of your head so easily, but it was too difficult to get him out no matter how many distractions you could come with, and even if most of it worked in your favour he still lived inside your head like a parasite.

A parasite you may never end up getting rid of.

“I’m going home.” Was all you said, trying to stay stoic and unaffected as he advanced to you, even more irresistable now that he’s worked out more and grew his hair a little longer, a strand from his gelled back fringe curving on his forehead and it did nothing but clench your jaw.

He was just too handsome, you were close to believing no one would be able to resist him at all, not even the new arm candy he brought as a date to dinner since your he has apparently broken up with your friend a month before graduation due to a sudden drastic change in her family’s living situation.

You soon find out she was never coming back, and apparently “long distance relationships” wasn’t Jeno’s thing.

“This early?”

There was a coy smirk on his face, cigarette resting between his lips. You stood there, liking the smell, reminding you of your father back home so naturally, you stayed where you are, feet starting to hurt from the five inch heels you regretfully wore to dinner.

“Yeah, I have work the next morning.”

He’s one step away from you now, his full attention scanning your red dress from head to toe, liking the tight fit around your soft curves. You try to stand your ground anyway, albeit about to burst into shivers from the way he narrowed his eyes to you now, blowing another puff of grey you ended up inhaling into your system as well for how damn close he’s gotten, invading your comfort zone.

“That’s a shame.” He circled around you like some sort of a predator, but without touching you until you feel him stop just inches away, his hard chest brushing against your back. “Well go on, your car is right there.”

Your breath hitched as you began to walk to your car, unlocking the back door to throw your purse into with a slam. You don’t say anything as you placed your hand on the handle, chewing on your lips as he quirked an eyebrow, wanting to know what seemed to make you look a little stressed and all tensed up.

“Your date.” You slowly met his amused gaze. “How long?”

“Didn’t sleep with her if that’s what you were wondering.” You didn’t even want to lie — the wave of relief crashed through you, engulfing you in so you let go of the handle and headed to him, letting your burning desire drag you all the way to his arms as he pulled you into a suffocating embrace. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

Jeno flung his cigarette off his lips to kiss you hungrily causing you to moan in his mouth, tasting the peppermint candy he’s had and the slight bitterness from the cigarette but you didn’t care.

You didn’t care until he threw you in your backseat, ripping your underwear off you so easily and gave it to you right there and then, until you were in a verge of tears, unable to think straight as you moaned his name all over again like some sort of a mantra, dragging the both of you into eternal hell.

And to hell with him it is.

#jeno x reader #nct jeno smut #jeno smut #jeno x you #nct dream smut #nct smut #kpop smut #lee jeno smut #one shot smut #killshotbabe

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oh-saints · 1 year

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okay but .... something cute and domestic with ruben where you're cooking or he's cooking anf you're listening to music (whenever I think of this I think of him listening to this portuguese song called princesa (beija-me outra vez) by boss ac and idk I just think it fits him so well) and just holding each other and making out in the kitchen ... him singing the song to you 😫

anon, just so you know, you got me into the song so much since the first time i saw this on my askbox (which has been a while) that i got carried away

princess

rúben dias x you

word count: 1.3k

tw: mention of sex and suggestive words 👀

notes: happy birthday to our favourite centre-back! gotta celebrate it with a homebody ruben because domestic ruben always sends me... 😫😫 but as usual, i always write at dawn so this is not yet beta-read.

the amazing song's here!

your alarm vibrated your phone against the wooden bedside table and you had never dragged your body up faster than that moment.

for the purpose you were planning today, you had to wake up earlier than your boyfriend. which, ironically had never happened before during your entire 1-year stint with him so far. that was because the giant piece of delicious boyfriend beside you was a morning person and a man of routine—wake up at 7, wash up, wake you up, drink some energy drinks of his own recipe as he waits you to finish dressing up.

funny how you were the one with ordinary 9-5 job yet he always woke up before you and always managed—and so far, without avail—to drive you to work before heading out to his.

so to appreciate all the effortless effort he exerted of being a flawless boyfriend the past year, you intended to celebrate the most important day of his life with something you’d never done before. not with him, and not you’re your exes too, because rúben was worth something else than a mundane, expected gift.

you sneaked out of rúben’s humongous bed, tiptoeing your way out of the room because the centre-back was apparently sensitive to sound as well. multitasking lady as you are, you managed to pick up your boyfriend’s large black shirt he shed carelessly last night from the floor and wore them as you passed by the living room because there’s no way I’m doing this in a Herve Leger dress.

as soon as you reached the kitchen, you ransacked the place, searching for the ingredients you’d scattered all over the place beforehand so rúben wouldn’t get suspicious about the plan you were pulling today. you could swear his ability to read the game reached off the pitch too sometimes and it drove you crazy most of the time.

it might be simple, your plan. it was only putting together his favourite cake, with recipes you got from his mother as well as approval from the club’s nutritionist, but you knew it’d mean the world to rúben because he’d been deprived of the earthly pleasure since he committed himself to the athlete life.

you went on to colonise rúben’s kitchen with your work of art, fully immersed with task at hand and humming along the right lyrics to whatever song was playing.

“minha vida,” shivers ran down your back because he used the combination of his bed voice with the nickname he pulled out only when he was being seriously romantic. “what are you doing?”

damn it, he’s not supposed to wake up in another 30 minutes! you groaned inside but outside, you gave him a sheepish smile, embarrassed to get caught red on action. with flours and eggs and whiskers everywhere, you couldn’t escape him anymore.

“I’m cooking?”

“I see that,” oh fuck, not that sly smirk on his sleepy face. you could feel your resolve dissolving slowly but surely because who could resist this sexy motherfucker in the morning? “why are you cooking then?”

you tried to collect yourself altogether while rúben eliminated the distance between you and him in three strides. “for your birthday, of course.”

in rúben’s standard (his words last night), you both had commemorated the sacred day (your words last night) with an early birthday dinner that followed up with an explosive love-making. so passionate you both could barely contain your desires towards one another right after you both stepped out of the elevator. so passionate it lasted till the wee hours.

which was a record because in between yours and rúben’s hectic schedule, it was nearly impossible to have both of your saturdays and sundays off in the same weekend.

but rúben could see you through the thick veil you were trying to wear, and his smirk only grew at your futile attempt to compose yourself before he pulled your chin closer to his gently, despite his rough hands due to countless harsh contacts with the grass. the sensation left you further breathless, and the sensation of you breathless under his touch was what fueled him to cut off the breaths altogether by clasping his lips to yours without mercy.

you gave in without a fight, of course. you gave him away yourself a long while ago, anyway.

it was always satisfying to hear the click that went off whenever your lips got separated, mostly on rúben's account, but it was more gratifying for rúben to see your cheeks red and lips swollen only for him. “go on then,”

he turned you around, back to face the messy kitchen island, while he settled himself on your back. your senses grew hypersensitive with the way his hands rested lightly on your waist and the way he stood ghostingly behind you. so close, that you could feel him breathing down on you, yet so far with how featherly his touches were, so unlike his usual manner of protective hold.

“don’t stop on my account, gatinha,” and you had to hold back an audible gasp at his timbre rumbling against your spine. “if you stop, I’m going to punish you for making an unfinished mess in my kitchen.”

rúben had the audacity to let out a deep chuckle when you squirmed against his hold, as he murmured the word punish directly at the shell of your ear, as if he didn’t know any better of the effects he had upon you. “I’m serious, meu anjo. don’t test me.”

you had to bite back your response of I’m squirming because I know you’re serious. besides, you weren’t one to back down from a challenge—rúben knew that by now. it was one of the reasons he dated you in the first place, your competitiveness reminded him there was still another layer of clouds above the sky.

so you poured every last ounce of your concentration to working on rúben’s cake to the point you didn’t notice he was already moving away from you, towards the conjoined living room to change your playlist of liked songs into his dedicated playlist for you.

it was only when you’d inserted the baking pan into the oven that you realised rúben was singing—half rapping too because we stan a multitasking king—the song he serenaded you with the night he asked you to be his girlfriend, as he slid his feet against the floor with a bit of dancing groove towards you.

enfeitiçaste-me no dia em que te conheci, fico fulo da vida quando eles olham p'ra ti

you bewitched me the day that I met you, I get mad when they look at you

you laughed at his “stage act” as you washed your hands, a bit faster than your usual thorough routine because in all honesty, you couldn’t help yourself for wanting to join him. the song was long forgotten and your goofy boyfriend was reminding you all the reasons why you fell in love with him, and why you were doing all these surprises in the first place.

“princesa,”

rúben stretched his arms towards you as soon as he saw you were done drying your hands, and before long he’d had you spun around towards him. he caught you at the right moment, engulfing you in a tight back hug despite his twisted arms on your front. but the awkward position was the last thing in his mind when he had you reaching up to kiss him one more whenever the lyrics said beija-me outra vez (kiss me again one more time) before laughing and smiling in his arms as he swayed you left and right gently.

so bright and blinding and happy like it was your birthday instead of his—and he didn’t mind if it felt like that because you’d brought him more mirth in his life in the past year than his long list of exes had ever done.

he didn’t mind because you’d given him more than enough of reasons to live to love you.

“princesa,” rúben drew his hands down the line of your body, feeling every inch and curve hidden beneath his linen shirt. he thought his teenage dream of having his lover wearing white was insane but in reality, wearing black and nothing else but skin underneath his palms was a whole new different game. “you feel so good,”

and it, indeed, felt so damn good as his hands traced the outline of your outer thighs that you didn't feel ashamed for letting out the most disgusting mewl in between broken gasps.

but the oven got to turn off in that moment.

you broke off from your trance as the ting! sound rang off your ears like a siren blaring but rúben held you prisoner under the ministrations of his hands, you remained puny in his arms as his hands travelled closer to the most pulsating, aching part of yourself right now.

“i want you in my birthday suit, princesa,” rúben growled in your ear as he gently bit off the soft bone, the beast not taking a no for an answer. “now.”

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mikareo · 1 year

Text

⌗ ROMANTICISM ₊ ˖ ་. rin itoshi x fem reader (4k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ there are so many words he wishes he could take back, and he realizes now that he loves you. he loves your colorful laugh, beauty, and passion - all he needs now, is to tell you...and say those three little words. (part two of rationalism - must must read first!!!)

contains; colorblind!rin, painter!reader, rin’s mom is reader’s art mentor, rin hates art, strangers to friends to lovers, swearing, immense fluff, , kissing, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness, happy ending!!! author's note; this was originally supposed to end with reader getting into a car accident and d-wording the day of her art gallery...but i changed my mind :D

He misses you. He can’t help it, but he does.

The memories he has with you are a cassette tape on autoplay - constantly running through his mind on repeat, and always ending with the awful confrontation that you’d left each other with. Rin wishes he hadn’t raised his voice. He wishes that he would’ve been honest with you from the very beginning, but he hadn’t, and there’s no changing the past. All he has now are two empty hands that would much rather be interlaced with your paint-covered fingers.

“How much longer do you think you’re going to be moping?” Sae’s call is distant from the turning gears within Rin’s brain. He’s sure that his brother has grown tired of his constant state of melancholy - having been forced to be his support system after you walked out the door - and Rin feels awful about it. If he could, he’d rip his heart from his chest and allow you to step on it. To stomp and tear through the organs just as you’d done to those poor bystanding cherry blossoms on the sidewalk.

“As long as she’s still upset with me.” He groans as his forehead hits the marble of the island counter. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, well we already knew that.” The dim-eyed boy beside him scoffs while taking yet another drink of his apple juice - which he has unfortunately had to drink for the past hour and a half since Rin had somehow consumed his small supply of alcohol within the past few weeks that the two of you hadn’t been speaking. “I was really rooting for you, man. I thought she was the one to break your cycle.”

“Cycle?”

What the hell does he mean by ‘cycle’?

“Oh, you know,” Sae continues without even taking a breath, “The cycle of life you’ve got going on with your inability to actually attract girls.”

Rin hates him.

“You’re an asshole.” He grumbles, taking his own swig of the pint of orange juice he found in the back of his fridge. Is it expired? Likely yes. Does Rin care, at all? Definitely not. Is he even more pissed off that he doesn’t understand the irony of why it’s called orange juice? He doesn’t want to answer that question. “An unhelpful asshole who should definitely stay over and cook dinner for me since he wants to make up for being said ‘unhelpful asshole’.”

Sae scoffs, shaking his head whilst the thin, soft strands of his hair flit back and forth. His right eyebrow raises in a mocking expression, “You need to get yourself back out there, man. You’ll be old and grey if you keep waiting for the perfect girl to come knocking on your door, so just talk to her. Just fucking talk to her and put me out of my misery.”

“Are you trying to make this about you, right now?” Rin stares at his best friend in utter disbelief, but he’s not truly upset. He knows that Sae holds good wishes for him in all manners of life - this being no exception - and takes his words to heart. He’s right. Of course, he’s going to lose you if he doesn’t even try to get you back. “The sun must be falling out of the sky because I’m actually considering following your advice.”

“That’s a pretty picture to imagine,” his older brother chuckles, causing Rin to roll his eyes. What’s the sensation that everyone has with mentioning imagery every five seconds? “Just talk to her, man.” Sae continues, “Please, I’m all out of advice.”

Rin takes his brother’s pleas to heart. It is quite ridiculous that he’s spending his time depressed and lonesome when he could be reconciling with you. Perhaps it’s his fragile masculinity acting out and refusing to take blame for the situation, although he’s fully aware it’s completely his fault that you’re upset with him.

It’s difficult for the gears to begin turning in Rin’s head. They’re covered in brittle rust that’s been creeping deep into the crevices of his mind for his entire life - slithering down his spine towards his blackened heart that you had only just begun to breathe life into. He misses the feeling of spring that came when you called. The freshwater rain of your laughter and budding blossoms of your smile that washed away his loneliness and replaced the awful emotion with an overgrown garden of bliss. He still doesn’t understand how he managed to mow that garden down with one sentence. He might as well have taken a chainsaw and brutally hacked into every connection that he’d managed to make with you in your time of knowing each other.

Now he’s going to be on his knees begging for forgiveness with his hands stained by the minced grass. Does grass stain green or yellow? Hopefully not brown, dear lord. He’ll be buried deep into apologies that should definitely be rehearsed, but he knows he’s not an artist with words and he won’t bother to waste your time with crumpled-up ‘I’m sorry’ notes and improvised tears.

You deserve nothing but the best - so much more than he’s been giving you and he needs you to hear those words come straight from his mouth.

When did you begin to mean so much to him? Rin doesn’t even know.

It could’ve been when you showed up to his game unannounced, with first row seats and a booming cheer that he never knew he desired. ‘C’mon number ten! I know you can do better than that! Beat their asses, Rin!’ He nearly tripped at the sound of your voice, and falling on his face was the last thing he wanted to do in front of Isagi - but to be completely honest, he doesn’t remember much of his qualms with his rival from that day. Rin was solely focused on playing well for you. The world stopped and he was given all the time needed to impress you. You give him a reason to be better, a selfless reason to do good.

Perhaps it was when you’d shown him around your homey apartment, with maple art easels and splattered canvases lining the walls, and watched with glee as he made his best attempt at a finger painting (which may or may not have ended up looking like two worms kissing). ‘It’s abstract’, you’d say every time he found something new that was wrong with the art piece, ‘All it needs is a home. See?’ You hung his shitty little sketchbook paper on your living room wall, right next to your TV for the whole world to see. The way you stood there staring in awe still rattles his brain. You’ve always been able to find beauty in even the smallest things.

Or maybe his heart had begun to beat a little faster that Saturday night on the way out of the theater. The romance of the film the two of you just witnessed was still on Rin’s mind, provoking his alcohol-induced body to make a pathetic attempt at holding your hand - which resulted in him accidentally knocking you over into a street puddle that swallowed the heel of your shoe. ‘I needed to take a shower anyway, Rin, it’s fine!’ Your smile continued to be bright despite the low temperature and sprinkling rain, and he can recall wondering how you managed to stay so positive in such a dreary situation. As you discarded your soggy heels into a nearby trashcan and skipped barefoot on the pavement, you called, ‘Come on! Dance with me!’ The shared laughter between the two of you echoed through the seemingly empty streets that surrounded you - hands connected as you swung in circles around each other and fell over one too many times, until he carried your sleeping body home. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever been able to make him laugh as hard.

The way the corners of your eyes crinkle amidst fits of giggles is his favorite image to replay. He doesn’t need to know the color to be able to see how beautiful they are - to appreciate the blinding sparkle that overwhelms your irises when he accidentally trips over the uneven sidewalk or knocks over your painting station - or even when he unintentionally makes a sexual innuendo that you just so happen to pick up on. ‘That’s a love hotel, Rin! Why would I have stayed there before?’ It was almost as if you were conducting a symphony of glorious laughter that night. The violins played the tune of your voice in a higher octave and the cellos added a punch everytime you’d bite your lip in an attempt to calm down. He hadn’t known what a love hotel was intended for before that night, but he’d also made the mistake to say, ‘I wouldn’t mind going to my first one with you, it could be a first for both of us.’ and you still haven’t let him live it down. Rin’s honest with himself for the most part. He’s awkward, insufferable, and a bore to be around - yet, for some odd and unknown reason, those are your favorite things about him. Why?

Why is it that he can’t function like a normal person when your eyes meet his?

Why do his words rearrange themselves and become complete gibberish when he attempts to woo you with his charm?

What is it that keeps him coming back to you, despite holding such deep hatred for the things that you love most?

“I need to text her.” Rin feels his chest vibrate as he finally makes a decision, the words pouring from his mouth in a short word vomit - forcing Sae to piece together the jumbled mess and attempt to comprehend whatever it was that his big brother was trying to say, to which he jumps up from his seat at the island and aggressively pats Rin on the back.

“That’s what I’ve been saying, dumbass! Get those fingers movin’!”

His phone falls into his hands in a millisecond, with Sae eagerly awaiting to hear his poetry. He’s grateful to have such a supportive friend. Rin knows that there aren’t many people who would be willing to put up with him for so long - having been moping around and complaining day-and-night of relationship problems that were solely caused by him - and he can’t imagine not having his support. Hopefully he’ll be able to introduce you, one day. You’ll both give him so much shit for his attitude. Oh well. It’ll all be worth it having two people he loves get along.

…

Did he just…

What did—

There’s no way.

Did he really just use that word? That godforsaken word?

He’s trembling. Rin’s phone is shaking in his hands as he finally comes to the realization that he does, with his entire heart and being, love you. In an instant, his entire world scrambles together with rapid dashes and line art that he can’t even comprehend. There’s no rules to follow with these types of feelings - this insistent need to see you. Hold you. Kiss you.

Fuck, he wants to kiss you. He can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing.

Like tapping raindrops that never cease their fall, his fingertips move against the keypad in a rhythmic motion - singing a song of love that can’t be contained into a simple lullaby. His heart pours out into the message, apology after apology being pasted in paragraphs, and hopes with his whole soul that you’ll find it in yourself to at least see him in person. There’s no way you won’t. Rin knows you well enough now that he’s certain he’ll be seeing you again. All he needed to do was take the first step towards forgiveness, and he’s finally willing to be vulnerable and own up to his inability to be honest about his feelings, because he loves you. He loves you and he wants to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, and a million times until you beg him to shut the hell up and kiss you.

‘I’ll be at the studio tonight. I miss you, ______, and I’m sorry.’

He ends the message with a final apology, begging fate that you’ll read it in time to meet him while he still has courage - and with that, he’s on his way to the place he hates most, awaiting the person whom he loves most.

An hour has passed - well technically it’s been fifty-seven minutes, but who’s counting?

He’s counting.

The sun went into hiding ages ago and the moon now stalks him as he sits in his chair, lonely with two vacant eyes that wish they were gazing at yours. Rin can’t even tell if you’ve read the text or not - the grey speech bubbles look the same as they always have, and the delivered sign is posted at the bottom with no response. He wants to send a follow-up message, just a little ‘hey, you there?’ but he knows that’s a little bit much. If you want to see him, you’ll see him and he’ll confess his feelings once-and-for-all - though, he’s feeling much less confident than he was an hour ago. Ahem, sorry. Fifty-nine minutes ago.

Rin has a plan of what he’s going to say to you, and hopefully it makes sense when the words begin to fall from his lips. He’s said it many times before, but he’ll say it again, he’s never been good with words or feelings or anything of the sort. He wants to get better, though - to become more emotionally aware for your sake, because he knows that’s a priority for you. You have an image of your dream guy that’s been in your wishes since primary school - tall, handsome, daring, dashing, yada, yada, yada - and he’s trying to be that guy. He needs to be that guy. He’ll be anything for you.

Anything and everything…even the desperate guy who can’t get a text back.

Y’know, for a moment - a brief and fleeting moment - the world seemed a little more beautiful in his self-realization of love. The stars glistened brighter and the street lights sparkled in their reflections. Before tonight, Rin hasn’t ever been able to appreciate the natural beauty of what surrounded him. He never understood your fascination with replicating real life into paintings and sketches, but he seems to have digested the concept - at least a little bit. The only thing that could undoubtedly make his world more dazzling would be the sight of you, and holy shit there you are. There you are opening the front door - and your gorgeous, perfect reflection in the glass is looking straight at him.

He doesn’t need the ability to see color to know that you’re the most fascinating and jaw-dropping sight in the entire universe - and that the rainbow should be rearranged in the letters of your name in honor of your ability to captivate attention and inflict a multitude of emotions on him that he’s never felt before.

“Rin?” Your melodious voice is the remedy that his ears have been yearning for. “Rin, is that you? Why’re you in the dark?”

This means you haven’t read his text, right? Otherwise, why would you be confused as to why he’s here? Wait, why’re you even here?

You begin to explain yourself without him needing to ask, “I left my phone in here earlier like an idiot and I’ve been looking for it all day. Isn’t that so dumb?” You let out a little laugh, amused at your inability to keep track of your personal belongings. Why aren’t you acting like you’re upset with him? The last time you talked, you could barely look him in the eye - yet now, you’re so casual, almost as if nothing happened. “Here I am looking for my lost phone, but instead I find a lost Rin Itoshi.”

“What are you doing here? Sitting in the dark?”

The repeated question is met with a pregnant silence as Rin fails to piece together the rehearsed words he had come up with earlier, settling on a bear hug that nearly suffocates you.

He’s so overwhelmed by the feeling of touching you again that he barely notices how stiff your posture is. You’re practically a piece of rock in the midst of being carved by its maker, frozen and unable to formulate an action in response - which, in this case, means that he’s your artist. Rin relaxes his hold, urging you to reciprocate his warmth by nestling his face in your neck. Your right arm finds its place wrapped around his waist and your left around his neck, allowing him to engulf you further into his hold. You smell so nice. He notices the lavender perfume that he bought you is still rubbed into your skin, and he’s glad that you’re finally using it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Rin’s fingers run through your hair in smooth waves, gently kneading out the small knots and helping you relax - and he can tell that your full attention is on him. For the first time in knowing you, there aren’t any distractions or excuses to avoid this conversation. It’s just you, him, and the bare truth. He just hopes he can execute this right.

“There aren’t enough words to explain how sorry I am, genuinely. I shouldn’t have ever belittled you like that, ______.” He takes a deep breath, one of many, and closes his eyes. The scene of you stomping away from him has no end in his mind. It constantly plays at every hour of the day, re-run after re-run, to torment him and remind him how horribly he screwed up with you. Please, please forgive him. “You’re not just my mom’s student. You’re not just a friend that I get coffee with. You’re so much more than that and I’ve been such a fucking chicken and haven’t been able to be honest with you.”

“You couldn’t have possibly known about my condition and it was wrong of me to take my frustration out on you.” Rin can feel himself begin to cry, his tears raining down his cheeks in cascades of pent up anger and hatred for how he made you feel that day. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve to be treated like shit by him. “Your work is important to you and I know it should be appreciated. What’s important to you is important to me, okay?”

“You love your art, and I love you.”

He says it over and over again. Those three special words rapidly become six words, nine words, eighteen, forty-two, and onwards as you look at him with an empty expression. Please, please say something. For every second of no response, he confesses his love to you. He confesses as if it’s his source of air - the only way that he’ll be able to survive this encounter is if he bares his emotions with no regrets. If this were a movie, he’d be the desperate protagonist in the climax of the story who fucked up his love life and is begging for a second chance - hell, this is real life and that’s exactly what he’s doing. Just, please, have a happy ending.

You open your mouth, yet nothing comes out. No words. No statements. No confessions. You’re simply staring at him like he’s just told you the most absurd news in the existence of the universe…

…and then a tear falls.

One tear slips from your eyes, followed by another, and another…until your face is drenched in salty rain with black mascara creasing your eyes. You look like a raccoon. Rin almost starts laughing. No. He is laughing; laughing because your false lashes have fallen into your hands as the glue refused to be waterproof - and now you’re standing before him in a puddled mess of makeup and disheveled hair. You’ve never looked more beautiful.

Rin brushes his fingers across your cheek, attempting to wipe away your tears like an artist covering up a beautiful mistake. If he were a painter, he’d paint you a million times and more - hanging every portrait on every single wall of his apartment, until there was literally no space left for a scrap of paper. You’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and the smile that suddenly bursts from your sobs confirms it.

“What’s going on? I’m so confused, are you happy or are you sad?” He’s so concerned and his inability to read emotions correctly only makes him more helpless. “Talk to me, beautiful. C’mon.”

You lean into his touch and he instantly knows that everything is going to be okay.

“I just never thought I’d hear you say that.” Your smile is directed at him now, and he feels a warmth that is so familiar yet unfamiliar and he can’t get enough of it. It’s similar to the feeling of being showered in sunlight or snuggling beneath a comforter in the winter - an overwhelming comfort that’s a gift from you to him. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever. Fuck you for that.”

Now you’re both laughing, giggling, and beaming at each other. His heart feels so at peace. The civil war between his divided emotions, love and loneliness, has finally ceased.

“I love you.”

Neither of you can stop the flow of confessions that slip from your tongues and in an instant your lips are on his - clashing and colliding in a furious kiss that rivals the strength of a hurricane. It’s almost as if he can physically feel your love pouring into him and warming his heart into a heated flame, stoked by the embers of your touch. God, he missed your touch. The feeling of it is addicting. It’s his personal heroin and he’ll never get enough of it.

Your lips are just as soft as he imagined them to be, perhaps they're a rosy pink color with the slightest touch of strawberry lip balm that he keeps getting a fleeting hint of taste from. Never in his wildest dreams did he think you’d love him too. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. He silently repeats over and over - grateful that he’s been so blessed to know you…feel you…and love you in the awful world that he hated living on his own - the world void of color that you’ve somehow brightened by simply breathing beside him.

His hands are everywhere. Your hips. Your waist. Your breasts. Your neck. He can’t get enough of the feeling of you. With every passing second he’s falling deeper and deeper in love. You’re utterly perfect, he would kiss you for years if that was an option—

Aw shit, he knocked over an easel.

“Goddammit,” he mumbles while briefly pulling away from you. Of course he had to interrupt the moment he’s been waiting months for with his clumsiness. He’s such a dumbass. If he could punch himself in the gut, he would - but that would be way too embarrassing in front of you - hold up, this painting is familiar!

“Well I'll be damned.” He chuckles and turns the canvas towards you, to which you burst out laughing. “I thought you’d have thrown this out.”

“No,” you gaze at the painting with love in your eyes. “I could never, that’s how we met.”

The painted streak he accidentally inflicted upon your artwork remains in the same position. It seems that you never even bothered covering it up and embraced the imperfection. While Rin cannot decipher the magnitude of colors on the canvas, he’s sure that the various strokes look gorgeous and masterful. You’ve always been so talented. He’s so lucky.

As he places the painting upon a now-standing easel, you rest your forehead against his. He loves you. He loves you so much. So much so that he can’t help but take a step closer, not just one but many, and embrace the overwhelming love and passion he holds for you. There are so many words he wants to say, confessions that can carry on for an infinite number of lines, but there’s no need for that now. You have forever - and he decides to start that forever with his favorite thing…

…a kiss.

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you more.” He replies.

read the final part here. THANK UUUU

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years

Text

{16} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor, Smut (Save a horse, ride a cowboy)

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on ??? 👀)

Words: 15,600

Warnings: Blood, lots of it. Minor cutting of skin mentioned. Mentions of past insecurities. Praise, slight body worship, face sitting, minor breast play, intense emotional intimacy, marking/biting, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), possessive natures, love confessions. (I think that’s all). This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is! The next part!! Thank you all for waiting so patiently for me to finish this part, I really hope it lives up to everyone’s expectations!! I’m really proud for the build up in this one, I think it’s honestly more important/significant than the actual smut, so I tried to emphasize that. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Mini Masterlist

The next day, you wake up actually feeling fully rested for once. Your head no longer throbs, and you find that there’s a slight spring to your step. Seems as if Hongjoong really eased your worries yesterday more than you both realized.

Getting ready for the day takes you no time at all, and you figure you’ll spend it doing something exciting. Since they have another council in a few days, perhaps you can convince one of them to take you out of the house for a little bit, even if it’s just for an hour or so.

An idea strikes you then. Perhaps you’ll ask Yunho to take you out to see Brego once more, considering you haven’t seen your horse in a little while. Besides, you’d be together the whole time, so it’s not like Miyeon could just show up out of the blue and attack you.

Which is exactly how you find yourself brushing up against that all too familiar yellow string in the early hours of the afternoon.

Is everything alright, Petal? Always, your comfort and wellbeing are the first things on his mind.

Of course, you smile, quick to reassure him. I was just wondering where you were.

Oh, the genuine surprise you can hear in his voice has you chuckling, and you know that it’s pleasant on his part, nonetheless. You’ve never really inquired about where any of them are in the house before, simply wandering around until you spot one of them, or they find you. I’m in my art room, Petal. You’re more than welcome to come and join me, if you’d like.

Your breath hitches as your heart positively flutters in your chest. You have been meaning to ask him to show you his art room as of late, but you just haven’t found a way to bring it up. You never want to seem pushy or entitled about entering his own space, which is why it makes you so unbelievably happy now that he’s invited you into his studio.

I’ll be right there, you smile faintly, already thinking to yourself how this is a much better way to spend your day than you originally had planned. Perhaps if there’s time, you can still do both. It is quite early in the afternoon, after all.

Keeping your mind open to him, you begin to make your way towards their side of the house and upstairs to Yunho’s art room. Once outside the door, you raise your hand to knock, only for Yunho to suddenly be standing before you in the open archway. A soft smile rests on his face as he chuckles at your surprised expression.

“I heard you coming,” his voice is low, a gentle rumble as he steps aside for the moment. “Please, come in.”

His heart positively warms as he sees you smile faintly at him, slowly crossing the threshold into the room. The whole while you had been walking over here, he could hear the excitement lingering in your thoughts at him showing you his art. A fact of which could not have made him giddier, or any more nervous than he already is.

Sure, Yunho is more than willing to show you anything and everything of his art if you ask, but there will always be that lingering uncertainty within himself surrounding how you may react. Which is why your eagerness is like a breath of fresh air to him.

Stepping into the room, you are careful not to let your gaze linger for too long, except to stare at your feet. You do not want to simply barge in and assume you can look at whatever you’d like. Besides, you’d rather have him show you the parts of himself that he’s comfortable with.

Either way, you both strongly acknowledge the significance of this moment, especially as your thoughts wash over him unashamedly through your mental connection. Another fact which makes his heart sing in his chest, a fondness shining in his eyes as he closes the door softly once more.

“You can look around, Petal.” He chuckles softly, noticing how you have still yet to lift your gaze from your feet. “I don’t mind.”

Finally, you raise your head to meet his eyes, and the softest look he’s ever seen you give him rests on your features. Yunho’s heart positively flutters in response.

“Would you like me to look around, or would you like to show me?” Your tone is low, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes sparkle with that lingering anticipation that he’s only ever dreamed of seeing from you directed towards him.

Yunho smiles, a gentle pull of his lips upwards as he gazes at you with such love in his eyes.

“Come then,” he extends his hand out to you, “let me show you.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, you take a step forward, placing your hand in his.

Gently, he guides you through the room, showing you some of his earlier paintings that he’s kept throughout the years of various buildings, plants, and animals. With each new painting, you can see his art style taking shape, noticing the improvement as he compares them to later pieces he’s completed. There are many different types of art, too. Paintings, drawings, sculptures: anything and everything you can think of, he’s created at some point or other.

Each reaction you give him, expression full of awe resting on your features, combined with the shameless way your thoughts echo throughout his head, he drinks in. Yunho absolutely revels in your praises, both subtle and not, and with each passing minute, that worry from earlier dissipates, only further proving how perfect you are for him.

You then take a moment to fully take in the room after he’s shown you the majority of paintings resting against the walls, as well as the canvases rolled up in stacks in the corners. A red velvet antique couch rests off to the side beside the large bay windows, the sunlight filtering in unashamedly and shining off of all of the pieces that you can see. A few easels rest off to the side, one sitting in the middle of the room facing away from you as a stool and a small table with art supplies scattered across the top rest beside it. That must be the piece he’s currently working on.

There also seems to be a few closets lining the room, seeing as one is full of supplies as you peek through the opening. The other remains closed for the moment. A few shelves line the wall closest to the hallway door, filled with little sculptures and sketchbooks, one of which he pulls off of the one shelf.

“Here,” he hands you the black sketchbook. “This is my most recent one.”

Carefully, you take the book from his outstretched hand, an excitement shining in your eyes.

“May I?” You can’t hide the eagerness in your tone as you grasp onto the sketchbook for dear life.

Yunho smiles. “I want you to.”

“Okay,” you mirror his expression, gaze drifting to the black cover as you turn the first page.

A gasp escapes your lips as the first drawing you are greeted by just so happens to be a peony. One of your favourite flowers.

Turning a few more pages, you notice how this sketchbook seems to have a common theme. Each new drawing that is revealed relates to you in some way or other. More sketches of your favourite flowers are on the next few pages, along with your favourite fruits, a picture of your shelves which house your own collection of books and trinkets, as well as some of your favourite animals. Though, the further you get into the sketchbook, the more intimate the drawings become.

Sliding a finger beneath the next page, you drag your hand up the side of the book. What appears to be a case study of your own hands stare back at you, though that’s not what catches your eye first. No, the largest sketch right in the middle of the page is of two hands, intertwined together with their fingers locked in embrace.

You recognize it immediately.

Sparing a glance up at Yunho, you notice he’s moved to sit on his stool resting just beside his easel for the moment. He smiles at you, somewhat nervously as your gaze once more darts down to the sketch of your intertwined hands on the page.

Your lips pull upwards softly in the corners as you stare at the memory, preserved on paper, of the first time you ever held his hand. Your heart skips a beat as you recall that very moment now.

You turn the page.

This time, the sight you are greeted with is another sketch of your hands, only this time, they seem to be weaving flowers together steadily. You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat as you watch the image come alive in your mind, seeing yourself creating that same flower crown which hangs proudly beside the large windows, on full display to any and all that enter the room.

The next image you see is of you, standing right next to Brego as you lean into him. You recognize the field you’re standing in as the one right outside of the stables, and you know that these are his own memories being drawn on the pages in real time.

Your heart begins to race in your chest.

A few more pages are simple sketches of you, candid pictures from times where he’s been looking at you, or you at him, that Yunho has wanted to commemorate as best he can for the time being. One is of you sitting around that table at the mall with all of them, and how you looked as excitement flashed in your eyes. Another is of you standing between bookshelves, condemning such a vile man as you passed your judgement for all to hear. Though, the one that makes you smile the most is the one in which you seem to be holding a tiny little kitten in your arms, an awe filled expression on your features as you smile at whoever it is you’re looking towards. Of course, you know it’s him.

Turning to what appears to be the last page filled in the sketchbook, your lips part as a silent gasp escapes you. There, staring back at you from the page, is your own soft expression, an extremely fond look in your eyes as you gaze almost lovingly at the person on the receiving end.

A warmth blossoms in your chest as you understand this to be the very day they told you about Miyeon, and the way you embraced Yunho as soon as he got back home. The fact that he wanted to commemorate this, all of these moments with you, makes your heart simply flutter inside your chest.

“Yunho,” the way you breathe his name, such tender affection dripping from your tone as you meet his gaze with that look he’s always only dreamed about being on the receiving end of, has his own heart thundering away in his chest. “These are beautiful.”

Another wave of relief washes over him, and he cannot fight the smile that stretches broadly across his lips. “Thank you, Petal.”

“Thank you,” softly, you close the sketchbook. “For sharing this with me.”

“Of course, Petal,” his gaze is soft as he looks towards you. “Though, I’m not done yet.”

“There’s more?” The excitement he can hear bleeding into your tone has him chuckling softly.

“Plenty,” he nods, that loving smile still pulling at his lips. “There are three more that I want to show you right now. Wait here.”

“Okay,” you find yourself repeating your word from earlier as he stands quickly from his stool.

Making his way towards the side door that’s still closed, Yunho is quick to open it and step inside. The small room is filled to the brim with artwork - canvases and the like - all depicting you or the things that you love. For now, though, he’ll reveal them to you slowly, as he can tell you’re already overwhelmed by your emotions at being shown his other pieces for the moment.

Grabbing two canvases, he’s quick to make his way back to you.

Hearing him approach, you turn back around to face him after gently setting his sketchbook back onto the shelf he got it from. You notice him lean one of the canvases against the side of the small table before motioning for you to come closer.

You do.

The angle you stand at still keeps the main canvas on his easel currently out of sight, but that does not matter all too much to you right now. Especially not when he turns the canvas currently held in his hand around to face you.

A small gasp escapes your lips as you see a bouquet of your favourite flowers staring back at you. The detailing alone, even of the ribbon of your favourite colour wrapping around their stems to tie them all together, has your jaw dropping.

The painting doesn’t even look like a painting at all, for the image that stares back at you appears as if it’s a picture, printed out and displayed like a photograph.

“Thank you, Petal,” Yunho grins, hearing your thoughts wash over him shamelessly as you still have yet to close your void to him since entering the room.

“Yunho, this is…” you attempt to find the right words as your eyes flit over every inch of the canvas before you, “incredible.” You meet his gaze, eyes shining as you do. “You’re incredible.”

“Thank you, Petal,” Yunho’s heart leaps inside his chest, a warmth flooding through his veins as he smiles. “Your words mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”

“This all means more to me than you’ll ever know,” briefly, your eyes dart around his art room before meeting his own once more.

Yunho doesn’t even need to look into your mind to know how truthful those words you have just spoken are. Still, the significance behind them floods his very soul, causing his breath to catch in his throat, tears threatening to begin lining the corners of his eyes at any second.

After another minute of observing the painting, Yunho slowly puts it down to grab the other canvas he has leaning against the table.

“You’ve already seen a version of this one before, but I couldn’t help myself,” he admits, turning the canvas around to face you as a soft smile paints his lips.

Your eyes widen in awe as you see one of the same sketches from the book you’ve just looked through staring back at you.

There you stand in that open field, holding onto Brego as you lean into him. Your head is turning towards your horse, a gentle expression on your features as his mane sways in the breeze. Again, it looks as if someone took a photograph and printed it onto the canvas before you.

Your throat tightens, suddenly overcome by your emotions as you place a hand over your chest. You can feel the way your heart pounds beneath your skin as your eyes shine with such awe and adoration.

“I love it,” you whisper, voice gentle as you meet his gaze. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Yunho’s heart simply flutters in his chest as a bashful smile stretches across his features. “Thank you, Petal.”

“Seriously, Yunho,” you breathe, the fondness dripping from your tone. “I appreciate you sharing this part of yourself with me. I am honoured to see every piece you have shown me today.”

This time, you don’t fail to miss the way he suddenly has to blink back tears as he places the canvas gently back against the table.

“I’m just glad you like them,” his voice is raw, rough from the emotions coursing through his veins in this very moment.

“Like them?” You meet his gaze. “Darling, I love them.”

Yunho swallows thickly, your words meaning everything to him at this very moment. There’s a certain light now shining behind his eyes. A light of which you think you’re beginning to understand.

Finally, he has found that one person that he can share every part of himself with, and who is glad to learn everything there is to know about him. Finally, he has found you, that long since added piece of his soul needed to feel like he is two hundred percent himself again.

You are his Muse. His Petal. His everything. And he will stop at nothing to prove that to you. To prove that his love is true.

“Come,” once more, he extends his hand out to you in offering. “There’s one final piece that I want you to see.”

Briefly glancing down at his hand, you notice the way his fingers tremble slightly in what appears to be nervousness. Sending him a soft, reassuring smile, you step into his embrace.

The feeling of your hand gently wrapping around his own has his heart racing inside his chest, making this moment all the more real for him. This moment, and what he’s about to show you, could not be any more significant to him right now. From the way that he sees you smiling at him, he knows you know it, too.

“I just finished it last night, and I think it’s the crown jewel of my collection,” he admits, allowing you to take a step toward him. “Close your eyes.”

You blink once in mild confusion before doing as told.

In an instant, you can feel him coming to stand behind you, slowly guiding you around the table and to face the final canvas he has resting on the easel in the centre of the room. His grip is firm, but not so much as to hurt you, more so from his own nerves racing throughout his entire body.

Taking a deep breath, Yunho leans in to whisper in your ear. “Open your eyes.”

Immediately, you do as told, blinking a few times to clear your vision as your gaze focuses in on the canvas in front of you. The way your breath hitches in your throat as you observe the painting before you is synonymous with the way your legs give out beneath you. Yunho’s hands immediately move to support your waist as your back presses against his chest.

You don’t even realize you’ve started crying until you raise a hand to cover your mouth, feeling the first of your tears on your skin as you look at the most beautiful piece of artwork that you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

There, resting on the canvas in perfect colour, shines your image, smiling with a crown of flowers resting on your head. A familiar clearing surrounds you in the background as the sun illuminates your figure.

Radiant would not even begin to describe how you look in this painting right now.

“Yunho, I-“ your voice catches in your throat as you slowly lower your hand, heart racing inside your chest as an unbelievable warmth swells within you, filling your lungs with every breath you take. “I don’t know what to say."

Finally, you manage to steady yourself on your feet, Yunho’s hands still gripping firmly at your waist as you lean into him.

“Do you like it?” His voice is low, rumbling out right by your ear as you sense a hint of nervousness to him as he clings onto you for dear life.

“I-“ your voice catches in your throat, overcome by your emotions for the moment, “I love it.” Your reply is breathlessly, and you can feel his grip tighten around your waist.

You take a hesitant step forward and out of his arms, before halting in your tracks. Yunho follows your every move, a fond expression on his features as a warmth blooms in his chest.

“Is this-“ you turn to glance back at him from over your shoulder, “Are you sure that’s me?”

Your voice trembles the slightest bit from the emotions swimming through your very soul. Emotions of which Yunho can feel echoing shamelessly throughout his own mind. Emotions of which have a warmth unlike any other flooding his veins as he is overcome by your awe, your gratitude, but more than all of that, your love.

“Of course it’s you, Petal,” he smiles, eyes shining as you turn back around to face the canvas. He takes this opportunity to step forwards and wrap you back into his arms, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Why would you ever think otherwise?”

“I-“ your voice catches once more in your throat as you swallow, “I don’t think I’ve ever looked that beautiful in my entire life.”

“Nonsense,” Yunho chuckles, his arms tightening around your waist ever so slightly. “You always look like that, Petal.” He leans in closer to your ear, voice dropping subtly. “Beautiful. Radiant. Regal.”

Your breath hitches, and you find yourself resting your one hand over his arms wrapped around your waist.

“I don’t-“ you attempt to blink back your tears. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s because, Petal,” he chuckles, pulling you closer into his chest, that sense of nervousness long since having fled from his body as he completely revels in this moment with you. “This is how you always appear to me. I painted you exactly as I see you; exactly as you are. I am just glad I could finally show you your true beauty through my art.”

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

“Am I-“ you blink once more, another tear falling from your eyes, “am I really that beautiful?”

Yunho’s gaze softens as he rests his head gently against your own, his lips tugging upwards slightly in the corners.

“Of course you are, Petal,” he squeezes you slightly while still holding you in his arms. “Do not ever doubt that for a single second.”

Turning around in his embrace, you stare deeply into his eyes. Your lips part slightly as your gaze shines with such tender love and affection, that Yunho gladly drowns himself in it. A look which he knows is mirrored on his own face right now as he holds you to him.

“I’m beautiful?” Your eyes search his own as your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

“Every second of every day,” he confirms with a soft tone, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his own hands tighten their grip on your waist.

“I’m beautiful.” This time, it’s not a question that you pose, but rather a statement. A statement which makes his heart swell in his chest as you say so, because he knows you’re starting to believe it, too.

“Yes,” he nods eagerly, breath hitching in his throat as he continues to stare deeply into your eyes. “You are, Petal. Always.”

“I am beautiful,” you breathe, and you watch as a brilliant smile takes over his features, eagerly nodding along with your words once more as a single tear falls from his eyes. “And you have made me believe it.”

Immediately, Yunho pulls you into his embrace. One of his hands rest on the back of your head as he cradles you to his chest, while the other wraps securely around your waist. You can feel his chest shaking with his sobs as he holds you to him, a happiness unlike any other surrounding you both as you cling onto each other for dear life.

“Thank you,” your voice is raw with your own emotions as you whisper into his ear, tears falling freely down your cheeks and soaking into the material of his shirt. “Yunho, thank you.”

His grip tightens subtly on your body, burying his nose into the side of your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. A comfort unlike anything that he’s ever felt before settles within his very bones as he attempts to catch his breath. His heart swells, happy to know that you finally believe what he and his brothers have always known to be true.

You are beautiful. Mind, body, and soul. Always.

“I’m glad I could make you believe,” he whispers, voice strained with the weight and implications of his own words.

A few of his own tears land on your shoulder as he pulls you in impossibly closer, absolutely revelling in this moment with you. There is no greater gift you could have given him today than sharing in these tender moments with him. The fact that you have opened your heart up to him in so many ways, over such a short period of time, has him overcome by a deep happiness that he has not felt in centuries. Not to mention how receptive you are to his art: to him.

“I am so in love with you, Petal,” he breathes out, pulling away to stare deeply into your eyes. “I will spend every day of the rest of our lives proving that to you, in whatever ways that I can. You mean everything to me. I love you. So much.”

Your hands have once more found purchase on his cheeks, cradling him gently in your palms as you search his face for any signs of hesitance or uncertainty.

You find none.

“Yunho,” the way you breathe out his name has his heart fluttering away in his chest, skin tingling as he feels you beginning to brush your thumbs over his cheeks softly. “I am in love with every part of you.”

Yunho’s breath hitches in his throat, and despite the fact that he does not actually need air to breathe, he forgets how to for the moment. Tears gather in his eyes once more as your words wash over him, and he knows that were his hands not firmly gripping your waist right now, they would be trembling uncontrollably. Even still, he can feel his whole body beginning to shake as he stares into your eyes.

“My Queen,” his voice nearly catches in his throat, the first of his tears spilling over from his eyes for the second time in the past five minutes.

You do not hesitate to wipe them away before pulling him into your embrace once more.

For a solid minute, the two of you revel in each other’s touch, simply basking in one another’s presence. Nothing could take this moment away from you, right here, right now. All too soon, you’re leaning away to stare deeply into his eyes.

“Please, do not cry, My King,” the way you hear his breath hitch slightly as you say this has a gentle smile tugging at your features.

“I cannot help it, My Queen,” he blinks, leaning further into your touch as you brush the remainder of his lingering tears away. “You have just made me so unbelievably happy, that I cannot control my emotions.”

“Then, what I’m about to say should make you even happier,” you smile, staring deeply into his eyes with such fondness shining within your own.

“Simply being with you makes me happy, Petal,” he says honestly, fingers digging a littler firmer into your skin. “Any time spent with you is time well spent.”

Your heart swells with warmth in your chest, pulling him in that much closer to you.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Universe.” You hum contently as your gaze flits all over his face, eyes briefly lingering on his lips. “My Universe.”

Yunho swears his heart has stopped beating for the moment as your words settle over him. A roar of happiness wants to escapes him, but he fears it might shatter the windows were he to allow himself the pleasure of releasing it. This moment could not be any more significant to him, nor could what you have just said mean any more to him than it already does. Honestly, this day could not go any better than it has, and to him, it’s only just begun. The fact that your thoughts still echo shamelessly through his own mind is simply icing on the cake.

A fleeting thought of yours has him glancing down at your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own. He pulls you impossibly closer.

You smile at him, such tender love and affection dripping from your gaze. Only, instead of leaning in like he thought you would do, you slowly pull away, creating a little bit of space in between your two bodies.

“Thank you for today, Yunho,” you begin, sliding your hands down his neck in order to rest your palms over his shoulders, and feeling him shiver beneath your touch. “I will cherish these memories for as long as I live.”

Yunho smiles softly, giving your waist a small squeeze beneath his grip. “Will you keep me company for a little while longer?”

“I would love to,” you reply, stepping lightly out of his embrace.

“Actually, if you’re alright with it, I would love to draw you right now,” he admits, a hopeful gleam resting inside his loving gaze.

Your heart skips a beat. “I would be honoured.”

Five minutes later and you’re sitting on one end of the couch while Yunho rests on the other. That all too familiar black sketchbook is in his hands, a pencil gently scratching against the page. Though, he doesn’t have you sitting in any particular pose for the moment, simply stating that he wants to preserve this moment in its raw glory for years to come.

For the next forty minutes, the two of you softly converse between each other as he draws you. Neither of you want to disturb the moment you’ve created, simply happy to bask in each other’s presence with idle small talk filling the silence. In fact, the original reason for seeking him out practically slips your mind, perfectly content to spend the day with him like this instead.

Still, you have yet to close off your mind.

“Alright,” Yunho’s voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts a few minutes later as you watch him sit forward on the couch, “I’m finished.”

Immediately, you scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around one of his own as you lean into him. Glancing down at the page, you see a beautiful sketch of yourself staring back at you, and once again that sense of awe and wonder fills your veins.

“You’re incredible,” you breathe, resting your head against his shoulder as you continue to observe the image before you.

“Thank you, Petal,” a blush begins to creep up his neck, his whole body warming as he feels you clinging onto him. “I’m just glad I can capture your beauty like this, and that you like it.”

“I love it, Yunho.” You turn your head ever so slightly to glance at his profile, a tender smile gracing your features as you place a lingering kiss onto his cheek. “I love you.”

You can feel the pleased growl reverberate throughout his entire body as you say this, only causing you to chuckle.

“I am curious, though,” you begin, and you notice the way he gently closes the sketchbook only to turn his gaze to you in the next moment. “Is there anything you’ve ever wanted to paint but you have yet to do so?”

Something within his eyes flash as he meets your gaze. “You, Petal.”

You blink, “you mean like me posing for you?”

“Not quite,” he chuckles. “Though, I would never say ‘no’ to that if you offered.”

Your brow furrows slightly in confusion, gaze drifting to the canvas in the middle of the room with your image proudly displayed on it. “I don’t understand.”

“Sure, I’ve painted your image before,” he hums, noticing how you lean slightly away from him to stare into his eyes. “However, I long for the day where you will allow me to paint you.”

Once more, you blink. Until realization hits you.

“Oh. Oh,” your eyes widen ever so slightly as a heat blooms on your cheeks. “You want to paint me. My body.”

“More than anything,” he breathes, his hands subconsciously tightening around the sketchbook still clutched in his grasp. “Only if you’re comfortable with it, though. I would never expect it of you, nor do I want you to ever be uncomfortable-“ his words get caught in his throat as he watches you lean slightly away from him in order for you to slip off your shirt. His eyes nearly bug out of his head, “what are you doing?”

Folding your shirt and draping it over the back of the couch, you turn back to him.

“You said you wanted to paint me, no?” Your smile is soft, the slightest of quirks to your brow.

“I did,” he confirms, his voice slightly strained as he goes to clear his throat. Briefly, his eyes flit over your now exposed torso, breath hitching as he sees you wearing a yellow laced bra. His favourite colour. “I do.”

“What better time than the present?” You inquire, meeting his gaze once more. “My back should suffice for now. Then, we can take it from there. Okay?”

The fact that you’re even letting him paint your back for the moment fills him with a sense of love unlike ever before. Not only that, but the fact that you trust him enough to be this vulnerable with him has a warmth unlike any other flooding his veins.

Yunho will never forget this, for as long as he lives. The intimacy of this moment alone has his head spinning. Besides, the added implication that you’ll possibly allow him to paint more than just your back for the moment has a content rumble building in his chest.

“As long as you’re comfortable, Petal,” his words are slightly strained with the significance of this moment, his emotions swirling unashamedly through his chest as he meets your eyes.

“Of course I am, Universe,” you smile at him reassuringly. “I trust you.”

The way you can visibly see his throat bob as he swallows his emotions has you placing a gentle hand onto his arm once more.

“As long as you are comfortable, Yunho.”

Turning his head to meet your gaze, he gives you a soft nod, his eyes shining with his overwhelming emotions. You can see the joy clearly represented there, but also the love, affection, and care swirling within as well. Not to mention the excitement.

“Where would you like me to sit?” Your voice is soft as you tilt your head slightly in inquiry.

In the blink of an eye, Yunho has made a simple wooden chair appear in front of him.

“Is this okay?” He turns to look at you once more, carefully observing your features to see if he can find any hint of discomfort or hesitance from you.

He finds none.

“This is perfect,” you shoot him a reassuring smile as you move from the couch to the chair. You cross your arms over the top of the back, resting your chin over them in the next moment. “Will this be okay for you?”

“Of course, Petal,” he replies softly, the tips of his fingers reaching out to trail gently over the skin of your shoulder blade, and causing a shiver to run down your spine. “Just let me grab my paint, and I’ll get started.”

Just as Yunho goes to stand from the couch, your next words nearly have him stumbling over his own feet.

“Oh, so you are going to use paint, then?” There’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, and even as he searches your thoughts, he cannot seem to figure out what other implications you could be referring to.

Besides, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“What else did you think I would be using, Petal?” He chuckles, moving to step around you in the next second as he goes to place his sketchbook onto the table.

You catch his gaze, and the intensity he sees swirling within you orbs has him freezing in his tracks once more; Yunho stands completely mesmerized by you for the moment, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Sure, you can use paint if you still want,” you shrug, seemingly nonchalantly. “I just thought since it’d be your first time painting me, you would want to use something a little more intimate.”

Yunho’s gaze darkens as he licks his lips, “intimate how, Petal?”

“You’re the artist, Universe,” you grin deviously. “What do you think I mean?”

Oh, there are many different interpretations to your words. Ones which Yunho gladly, and shamelessly, indulges in right now, thoughts flitting through his mind of all the different intimate ways he could paint you in him.

At the way you see his eyes swirl with that all too familiar blackness, you chuckle.

“Use your blood, Yunho,” you watch as his eyes flash black, a pleased growl escaping him as he maintains eye contact with you as your words wash over him. “I want you to paint me in you.”

“My Queen,” he breathes out, attempting to control himself for the time being. “Do you understand the meaning behind something so intimate?”

“I do,” you nod once, a knowing smile stretching across your features as you move to undo the clasp of your bra behind you. Once the offending material has been removed from your body, you’re leaning forward, resting your chin on top of your crossed arms over the back of the chair once more. “Which is why I am offering myself to you, My King.”

“Those are dangerous words, Petal.” Yunho swallows once more, slowly stalking back towards you with dark eyes.

“Then these will be even more so,” you grin, your own eyes flashing as you watch him take a seat once more on the couch behind you. You glance at him from over your shoulder, “because once you’re done, I’m going to paint you.”

Yunho doesn’t even attempt to suppress the pleased growl that rumbles from his chest as he pulls the chair right between his open legs. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating against your back as he strokes a tender hand down your spine, his thighs encasing your own.

Carefully, you extend your back upwards, stretching your spine and displaying your bare skin to him fully. A dangerous smirk tugs at your lips as you spare him another glance form over your shoulder, noticing how he barely suppresses the darkness swirling in his eyes as he studies the beautiful blank canvas before him.

“Paint me in you, My King,” your voice is but a low drawl on your lips, causing a shiver to race down his spine. “Mark me as yours.”

“As you wish, My Queen,” a pleased rumble is all you receive from him in response as you feel him lean into you.

Your whole body jolts as you feel him place his lips against the skin of your back, right in-between your shoulder blades. Slowly, he trails sensual kisses upwards against your spine as his hands find purchase on your sides, thumbs stroking at the skin tenderly. Your breath hitches as you feel him bite down lightly on the back of your neck, right where it meets your shoulder.

“Mine,” the word is but a low growl against your skin, and you cannot help the way your heart positively flutters in response.

Yunho smirks hearing your reaction loud and clear.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you, his hands leaving your sides for the moment as he meticulously rolls up his sleeves. He can tell even without looking into your thoughts that anticipations claws away at your chest, given the way your breathing becomes just the slightest bit unsteady as you wait for him to properly begin.

Slowly, Yunho raises his one wrist, allowing one of his nails to sharpen into a point as he drags it across his skin. Immediately, blood begins to swell against his flesh, the vibrant colour contrasting against his skin. Dipping two fingers through the substance, he takes a deep breath, attempting to steady his racing heartbeat for the time being, and focus in on the task at hand.

For too long has he dreamed of painting you in him like this. Nights have been spent shamelessly fantasizing about how, and what he would paint his marks on your body with. Already, he has the design in mind, and there is nothing more intimate, nor significant than what he is about to do.

The first touch of his fingers against your spine is nothing more than a gentle caress, the blood causing tingles to erupt along your skin despite the warmth that you feel. Each stroke is fluid. Precise. A design unlike anything you’ve ever felt before being drawn over your upper back, just to the left of your spine. A design of which rests directly over your heart from behind.

With each drag of his fingers over your flesh, Yunho paints his name on you in the ancient tongue, claiming you in any and every way he knows how. Languidly, his fingers trace patterns over your skin, swirls like wisps of smoke and vines branching out over every inch of your exposed back as he continues to claim you as his own in such an intimate way.

His touch is soothing, and so, so sensual, that you find your breathing deepening along with his own. Your hands clutch onto the top of the chair for dear life as you attempt to ground yourself, not wanting to think about how good his hands feel tracing along the curve of your spine for the moment as he works meticulously on the design on your back.

With each press of his fingers, Yunho can feel your heartbeat syncing with his own. A fact of which that could not make him any happier than he is right now. You still haven’t closed off your mind to him, either, so every single fleeting thought of yours echoes throughout his own as well. The way he can sense how much you’re enjoying this, which is just as much as he is for the moment, has a pleasure unlike any other flooding his veins. The fact that you shudder when he shares his own thoughts, his emotions and desires with you, has a pride unlike any other swirling within him.

It seems as if he’s not the only one having trouble controlling himself right now.

The whole time he works, Yunho unashamedly allows his eyes to bleed black, absolutely revelling in each new design that he creates against your skin. Slowly, each red swirl branches out, covering you in him, just as he’s always dreamed of.

As it should be. As it will always be.

His thighs tremble, doing his best to hold onto his last bits of sanity as he takes a deep breath in. The way your scent is now intertwined with his own in such a way makes his head spin, a pleasure unlike any other flooding his veins. Already, Yunho finds it hard to control himself, and the added fact that he can smell your arousal beginning to permeate the air does nothing to help the way his already semi-hard cock twitches once more beneath his slacks.

He clears his throat.

“Almost done,” his voice rumbles out, strained and low.

You nod softly as you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat.

“Do you-“ your voice catches slightly as you lick your lips. “Do you want to do the front?”

Yunho’s breath hitches, his thighs tightening ever so slightly around your own as his fingers pause momentarily in their movements over your back.

A brief silence passes over the both of you. Enough to have you turning to spare a glance at him from over your shoulder. What you see staring back at you has your breath hitching in your throat.

There Yunho sits, eyes swirling with that all too familiar blackness as his intense gaze is already locked onto your own. His chest heaves with every silent breath he takes, whole body tense as his hands begin to shake.

“Yes,” he practically moans out, lips parting as his breath comes in ragged pants. “Please, My Queen. I would love nothing more.”

Turning back around, you raise your head, sitting to your full height as your back straightens.

“Let me know when to face you,” your voice is low as you stare forwards, and you don’t even need to look at him to know that he’s heard you loud and clear.

Not even two minutes later, you feel his fingers lift from your skin.

“Whenever you are ready, My Queen,” Yunho breathes, his chest rising dramatically with each inhale that he takes, “you may turn around and face me.”

It’s as if the whole world moves in slow motion. Carefully, you begin to rise from the chair, your own legs trembling slightly as you turn to face him.

The whole time, Yunho keeps his gaze locked on your face. He wants you to know that he respects you enough to not sneak a peek at your body, nor does he want you to think that that’s the only reason he agreed to paint your front. He is an artist, after all, and he can control himself. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself for the time being.

Throughout his many years of perfecting his hobby, Yunho has seen many naked and exposed bodies of all shapes and sizes. However, never has he ever had to exercise such restraint as he does with you.

To him, there is no greater significance, nor moment than this one right here, right now, with you. The fact that you trust him enough to be exposed and vulnerable in this way has a love unlike any other flooding his veins, drowning him in a warmth that he has never before felt in all of his long years of life.

You are the greatest masterpiece he has ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes upon, and the fact that you are allowing him to touch you in such a way, claiming you as his own using such intimate and sacred means, has his hands shaking once more. His head spins, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Gently, his hands move to rest on your hips, careful not to smudge the trails of blood wrapping around your sides for the moment. Looking up at you with such a tender gaze, his eyes shine, throat bobbing as he swallows the sudden dryness within at the feeling of your hands coming up to cradle his face tenderly in your palms.

For a moment, nothing is said between the both of you as you continue to gaze lovingly at his face, eyes taking in every feature before you.

“Is there something wrong?” Yunho voices gently, worried he may have done something to make you hesitate for the moment, or uncomfortable.

“Not at all,” you smile softly, shaking your head. “I was simply admiring the art.”

“Petal,” Yunho’s gaze softens, his breath catching in his throat as his heart swells with an unbelievable amount of fondness in his chest for you and you alone.

Slowly, carefully, Yunho guides you onto his lap, pulling you as close as he can for the moment while still giving him ample space to work. He needs to feel you pressed up against him now. He cannot continue any other way.

However, before he can so much as reopen the cut along his arm, your tender gaze captivates him once more.

Softly, his thumbs brush against the skin of your hips, gazing tenderly into your eyes as you keep his face cupped in the palm of your hands. Neither of you move, too caught up in the moment with one another, absolutely mesmerized by the way the other’s eyes shine beneath the light of the afternoon sun.

“You are a Goddess amongst mortals, My Queen,” he breathes, nothing but the sincerest form of truth dripping from his honeyed words as he continues to stare deeply into your eyes.

“How lucky I am, then, to find solace with My God,” your own voice is low, nothing but a mere whisper as you both lean in closer to one another.

He glances down at your lips as another moment of stillness passes between the both of you. That is, until he’s breaking it once more.

“Please,” he swallows once more, heart fluttering in his chest, “kiss me, Petal.”

Your lips are on his own without a second thought.

The pleased hum you can feel reverberate against your lips has you smiling into the kiss, Yunho pulling you even closer into him for the time being. The way you hum against him as you feel his hard cock pressing delicately into your core has his grip tightening around you.

A small gasp escapes you as he helps you grind down into him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he deepens the kiss. The way you whimper into his mouth is simply music to his ears.

Desperately, your hands tangle in his hair, threading through the soft locks as you pull him closer into you for the time being. The way his tongue feels, slowly moving against your own has a fire igniting within your veins, burning beneath your skin with every beat of your heart. A heart which you know echoes his own right now.

Carefully, you pull yourself away. Enough so, that you begin to trail gentle kisses along the skin of his neck, biting down and creating your own marks for all to see.

“Petal,” Yunho groans, eyes fluttering shut as he feels you lave your tongue over a particularly firm bite you’ve just given him. “I still need to finish.”

Yunho can feel you smirk against his skin before leaning away from him. The devious look he sees shining in your eyes has him twitching once more beneath you. A fact of which he just knows you feel, especially as your smirk widens.

“But of course, My King,” you settle yourself back into the first position he had pulled you into on his lap with ample space between your two bodies for him to continue. “I would love nothing more.”

The pleased rumble that escapes his chest has you smiling once more as you watch him reopen the cut on his arm to continue right where he left off. Only this time, there’s a thicker air of tension surrounding the both of you.

With each movement he makes, your eyes shamelessly follow him, flitting between his face and roaming all over his still covered torso in front of you. From the way you lick your lips, Yunho doesn’t even need to look into your thoughts to know that you like what you see. A fact of which that has a pride unlike any other swirling within his chest.

Slowly, meticulously, Yunho connects the swirls and branches from your back over the skin of your chest and stomach, wrapping himself around you in every and any way that he can. Another design is drawn directly over your heart, depicting the symbol for Queen in the ancient tongue, and once it’s complete, another pleased growl is escaping Yunho’s chest. His eyes flash black once more.

Gently, his fingers trace over your collarbones, connecting the lines from your back in two large swirls over your upper chest. Each new line branches outwards, intricately wrapping around your entire body as he continues to paint you in him in such an intrinsic way.

For a brief moment, Yunho pauses. Slowly, carefully, he takes your one arm in his hands, raising it up and bringing the back of your hand up to his lips. The tenderest of kisses is placed onto your skin before he turns your palm to face him, repeating the motion until he’s trailed his lips up your arm as far as he can go. Turning his head, he’s quick to mirror each kiss onto the skin of your opposite arm, too, stopping only briefly to press his lips onto the skin of your wrist and feeling your pulse flutter beneath him.

In the next moment, Yunho begins tracing designs down your arms, wrapping the swirls and branchlike vines down your skin and all the way to your wrists. He can feel your eyes on him, watching his every movement, and only causing his whole body to heat from your intense stare. Already, he’s finding it so hard to control himself, and with the way you’re looking at him right now, he finds the task even more difficult to do so.

Yunho is smart, though, saving the most sensitive of places for last as he finishes wrapping the design around your stomach. Finally, he moves back upwards, branching his blood outwards from the symbol over your heart.

This time, when he places his fingers against your skin, his touch is light, nothing more than a tender caress against you. Slowly, meticulously, Yunho guides his fingers over the sensitive flesh of your one breast, following the gentle curve of your body.

His breathing deepens, eyes flitting up to your own to check in with you and make sure you’re still okay. At the way he sees you staring down at him, eyes hooded as your own breathing deepens, Yunho has to swallow the sudden dryness in his throat.

The closer his fingers get to the skin of your hardening nipple, Yunho can feel the way you shiver beneath his touch. A pleasant thrum begins to echo through his veins with every pulse of his heart, and the fact that he can feel your own beating in time with his is simply icing on the cake. There is no greater feeling to him right now than sharing such a tender moment with you.

All too soon, he’s completed the swirl around your one breast and is moving on to the other. Again, his fingers are but a gentle caress against your skin as he traces the swell of your tender flesh, eyes dark as he keeps them locked with your own.

Teasingly, he allows his fingers to ghost over the skin of your opposite nipple, feeling it harden beneath his touch.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “May I?”

“Please,” your response is but a breathless plea as you arch into him.

Immediately, his mouth is on you, encasing your one nipple as he laves his tongue over the pert bud, suckling gently all the while. At the whine he hears you let out, Yunho cannot help but to hum contently against your flesh, savouring this moment as he allows his eyes to flutter shut.

He pulls you closer.

Carefully, he releases your one nipple after giving it a final flick with his tongue, moving over to give the same attention to the other. The way your hands tangle themselves in his hair, pulling him closer into you as you feel his mouth attach itself to your skin once more has another pleased rumble escaping him.

The whole time his lips are on you, his eyes never leave your face, wanting to catch every single beautiful expression you give him and commit it to memory. The way you keen into him as he suckles gently on your flesh has his eyes swirling with that all too familiar darkness once more.

Shamelessly, Yunho’s fingers dig into the skin of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer as you begin to slowly grind yourself against his aching cock once more. At the way you feel him moan against your skin, you smile.

In the next moment, you’re gently guiding him off of you, pulling him back using the hair at the nape of his neck to meet your gaze once more. Without another thought, you place your lips onto his own, not bothered in the slightest by the small bit of his own blood you can see shining along his mouth. The fact that you go so far as to trace his bottom lip with your tongue has a pleased growl escaping his throat, you immediately swallowing the sound.

Your breaths mingle as you pull away just the slightest, chests heaving as he begins to nip at the skin of your jaw.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, placing an open mouthed kiss onto the skin of your neck.

“Radiant,” he bites down on a particularly sensitive spot which elicits the sweetest of moans from your lips.

For only a moment, his lips part from your skin. Leaning back, his eyes glance down at the mark on your chest before staring deeply into your own, the fondest of gazes shining within, hidden behind that all too familiar swirling darkness filled with nothing but desire for you.

His thoughts echo shamelessly throughout your own mind and your breath hitches as he reveals the meaning of the symbol he’s painted directly over your heart.

“Regal,” his grip tightens once more, the word but a growl on his lips as he feels your hands come to rest on his chest.

Not even a moment later, your fingers begin to toy with the buttons of his shirt.

“May I?” You meet his intense gaze, staring at him with a soft look shining in your own.

“Yes, My Queen,” he replies almost immediately, tone but a whisper on his lips. “Anything for you.”

“Good,” you smile, slowly beginning to unbutton his shirt, “because I still need to claim you.”

The moan that escapes his throat is nothing short of desperate as he tosses his head back. His eyes squeeze shut, that all too familiar tightening of his abdomen causing his whole body to tense as he attempts to control himself.

Never could he have imagined the effect those simple words of yours would have on him. Given the context, too, Yunho finds his head absolutely reeling. Pure desire courses through his veins, heart feeling as if it’s about to beat right out of his chest at any moment.

The feeling of your hands roaming over his bare torso draws him back to reality, and he opens his eyes just in time for another shiver to caress his spine. The dark gaze he sees swirling behind your own irises has his whole body shaking as you slowly push the material of his shirt down his arms. The way you lick your lips as you see his own body fully revealed to you for the first time has a pride unlike any other coursing through his very soul.

“You’re so pretty, Yunho,” your voice is low, as if sharing the most intimate of secrets with him as awe paints your features. “So pretty, and all mine.”

The snarl of approval that tears from his lips has his eyes flashing black in an instant.

“All yours, Petal,” his voice rumbles out, words but a growl on his lips. “And you’re mine.”

The way his grip tightens once more over your thighs elicits the sweetest of giggles from your throat.

“I’m yours, Universe,” gently, you stroke his hair back from his forehead, placing a tender kiss there in the next second. “Now, let me claim My King just as he has claimed His Queen.”

The second snarl that tears from his throat is nothing short of feral, mouth parting as he attempts to control his breathing for the time being. His fingers dig into your flesh, holding onto you for dear life just as he attempts to hold onto whatever last bits of sanity that he has for the moment.

“Are you-“ he pants, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, “are you sure?”

You cup his face gently in your palms, a loving smile resting on your features as you continue to straddle his lap. “More than anything, Yunho.”

A moment of silence passes between the both of you as you stare deeply into each others eyes. An understanding unlike ever before washes over the both of you, feeling connected in a way neither have felt in your entire lives.

Slowly, you raise your arm, wrist on full display as his eyes lock onto an untouched piece of your skin.

“Will you do the honours?” Your voice is gentle, a tender caress as he glances into your eyes once more.

Yunho takes a moment to look at you. To fully and truly look at you. Here you rest, the love of his life, his Queen, offering yourself to him in ways Yunho has only ever dreamed about. The fact that you want to claim him in the exact same ways that he has just claimed you has a warmth flooding throughout his very soul.

Nothing can take this moment with you away from him. Absolutely nothing.

Yunho takes the time now to search your eyes - your mind - for any sort of hesitance or uncertainty on your part. He finds none.

“I would love nothing more, My Queen,” he breathes, hand coming up to gently cradle your wrist.

Once more, Yunho places his lips over the skin of your wrist before bringing his opposite hand up and gently tracing a soothing line over your skin. He meets your eyes briefly once more in one final confirmation. At seeing the subtle nod you give him, he sharpens his nail into a point, creating the faintest of cuts along your flesh.

Of all of the sensations you expected to feel against your skin, you never expected this. You were sure it was going to sting slightly, especially the initial breaking of your skin. However, you weren’t expecting it to simply tingle, a warmth blooming within your veins wherever his fingers grace your skin.

You just know that he has something to do with it.

Of course, Petal, his voice resounds in your head, the gentlest of caresses to your mind as you find yourself leaning subconsciously into that phantom touch. I swore to never hurt you, even in such a way as this.

Without question, and without any hesitation, Yunho takes away any and all pain his intrusion would have caused.

You smile, thumb gently caressing his cheek for the briefest of moments before you’re shifting your position. Leaning back slightly, you observe the plains of his chest, noting every dip and curve of the blank canvass before you.

Taking a deep breath, you begin.

The whole time you work, your own hands shake, though from a completely different reason that his own had. Yes, you yourself cannot believe that this is actually happening right now, but more than all of that, you do not want to mess this up.

You start slowly at first, fingers gently trailing over the skin of his exposed chest until you find your own rhythm as you work. Shamelessly, your eyes trail all over every expanse of his body revealed to you, and you can feel the prideful rumble that builds within his chest every time you do so.

Yunho’s eyes flutter closed, heart thundering away beneath his skin as he feels your delicate fingers tracing patterns over his own skin. What truly makes his head spin is the way you recreate the same swirls and branches over his own flesh in your own blood, paining him in you in such an intimate way as he painted you.

His breathing deepens, chest practically heaving with each inhale he takes. Not only is this moment so, so significant and meaningful to him right now, but the way you’re staking your own claim on him using your own blood has his head spinning. The way he can smell your own scent now mingling with his own drives him insane, and the way your arousal permeates the air only adds to the emotions swirling inside of him right now.

His waning sanity already feels so close to snapping.

Gazing down at his chest with hooded eyes, you pause momentarily in your movements. You know he knows that you’re not done, but there’s a question lingering in your mind which has his heart warming more than you’ll ever know.

A moment later, an image is appearing within your thoughts of a design similar to the one on your own chest. Meeting his gaze, you already know that this is the matching symbol to the one you already wear, especially if the way his eyes shine with such a tender love and fondness as he stares into your own is any indication.

Without another second of hesitation, your fingers are back on his skin.

The care you put into every movement does not go unnoticed by him as you work to recreate that same symbol over his own heart. A heart which thunders away beneath the skin of your fingers. A heart which pulses alongside your own, beating for you and only you.

There, directly situated over his heart, resides the matching symbol to your own in the ancient tongue. Your King to match His Queen.

An overwhelming sense of happiness and love floods his veins. The meaning of this claiming could not be any more clear, and the fact that it was you who suggested it be done in each other’s own blood has a warmth unlike ever before growing within his soul. A soul that belongs to you, along with everything else that he is.

The feeling of your fingers slowing over his skin draws his attention back to this moment here in time with you. He can tell that you’re close to finishing, that pleased look resting on your features enough to have his whole body heating as you continue to stare down at him with a hooded gaze. Your breathing has long since synched, chests heaving with each inhale you make.

His thumbs begin stroking over the skin of your thighs.

“My Queen,” his voice rumbles out, low and rough from the emotions swirling within him at this very moment.

The way your whole body jolts as he pulls you further into his lap, your aching core settling directly overtop of his hard cock once more, has a pleased rumble building in his chest. Your scent floods his senses, his entire body screaming in need for you: the need to touch you, to please you in every way he knows how, until the only thing left in your mind is him begins to drown his every thought. He needs to feel you pressed up against him.

He needs more. Yunho craves it more than anything. Whatever you’re willing to give him, he will take. Shamelessly and selflessly. And then some.

Yunho closes his eyes, attempting to control the last bits of his sanity for the time being. The last thing he wants to do is to make you uncomfortable, or scare you away. Especially not after this tender moment he’s just shared with you.

His whole body begins to shake.

“Yunho,” the way you breathe his name does nothing to help his waning sanity as his mouth parts in a breathless moan.

“Please, Petal,” his voice is strained from the way he desperately holds himself back from absolutely ravishing you for the moment. “Please, let me touch you. Let me claim you in every way I know how. Let me drown you in a pleasure only I can provide for you, until all that you can think about, until all that you know, is me.”

The way your breath hitches has another shiver running down his spine.

“I want to watch you lose yourself on me over, and over, and over again as we become one,” he meets your gaze, his eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them. “I want to watch you succumb to the pleasures of your own body, taking everything and anything that you need from me. I want to be there every step of the way to help guide you through an ecstasy that I have created just for you.”

“Please,” Yunho’s lips part, “won’t you let me?”

“Yes,” the word escapes you breathlessly before you even have the chance to hesitate. “As long as I get to do the same to you.”

“Petal,” his heart warms, gaze softening as he stares deeply into your eyes. “You already have.”

You blink, clearly caught off guard by his words. He chuckles.

“Just let me take care of you, Petal,” he leans forward, placing a brief, tender kiss to your lips. “Let me please you.”

“Alright,” you smile, brushing his hair back from his forehead once more. “But only after I’m done claiming you first.”

Yunho’s heart skips a beat as he sees you begin to move off of his lap in the next second. Sinking down onto your knees, you slowly, teasingly, trail your hands up his clothed thighs, his skin tingling everywhere you touch. The dark gaze he sees swirling within your eyes makes his head spin, his throat bobbing as he swallows the sudden dryness within.

“Petal, you don’t have to-“

“Shhh,” you coo, hands slowly moving upwards to begin undoing the button on his jeans. “I want to.”

A low moan escapes his lips as he feels you palming his throbbing erection over his jeans, his eyes locked on the way your hand moves over him. His hands grip the sides of the couch for dear life as you meticulously drag the material of his pants down his legs, ridding him of his final pieces of clothing in the next minute. The way you lick your lips as your eyes lock onto his weeping cock has him twitching against his lower stomach.

“So pretty, Yunho,” your eyes dart up to meet his own as your hands slide teasingly up his thighs once more, “and all just for me.”

The moan that tumbles from his mouth is low, chest rumbling in approval as he feels you gently grab his aching cock in your one hand. Slowly, you drag your thumb over his leaking tip, pumping him a few times as your lips attach to the skin of his inner thigh. He nearly comes from the feeling of your teeth sinking into his flesh, your tongue laving over the sensitive mark in the next second.

“I’m all yours, My Queen,” another moan escapes him as he feels you trailing open mouthed kisses along his inner thigh. “All for you.”

The way your grip tightens ever so subtly around his cock, your eyes flashing, has him twitching once more in you hand. Already, he’s been close to coming at least three times today, and you’ve barely done anything to him yet.

Yunho wouldn’t want it any other way.

You take your time, marking up his thighs with your mouth, nipping and sucking on the tender flesh. All the while, your one hand never leaves his cock, stroking him in time with the movements of your lips over his skin. Though, just as he watches you lick your lips, eyes hungrily gazing at his throbbing erection, he stops you.

Immediately, concern is washing over your features, worried you’ve gone too far, too quickly. “Are you okay?”

Little do you know of how much your concern for him makes his heart warm.

“More than okay, Petal,” he assures you with a smile, helping you back onto your feet.

He can see the questions forming on your lips, as well as in your mind, but before you can utter a single word, he steals your breath with another passionate kiss. Pulling away, he rests his forehead against your own.

“Another time, I promise, My Queen,” he breathes. “I simply do not want to come before the time is right.”

“Oh,” a pleasant heat blooms on your cheeks at his words, a sly grin tugging at your lips. “That worked up, huh, Universe?”

“You have no idea,” he breathes, caressing the side of your face gently in his one hand as his thumb strokes over your skin.

In the next moment, he’s shifting on the couch, laying down as you watch him with curious eyes.

“That, and I do not think I can wait a moment longer,” he pulls you closer by the thighs, eyes dark as he scents your arousal once more. “I have to taste you, Petal. I need to feel you dripping onto my tongue and drowning me in everything you.”

The way your own breath hitches in your throat is synonymous with how you can feel yourself clench around nothing. Your thighs begin to shake.

“Please, My Queen,” his eyes briefly glance up into your own, nothing but a desperate look shining within as he pulls you in closer to him, “sit on my face.”

You lean over him slightly, hand grasping onto the back of the couch as you begin to raise your one leg. Only, you find yourself pausing momentarily as you stare into his eyes.

“Are you sure-“

“More than anything in my entire life,” his voice is desperate, pleading as his gaze darts to your core situated practically right beside his head. He takes another deep breath, a shuddering moan escaping him as you scent absolutely overwhelms him. “Please, Petal. I want to make you feel good.”

Your heart positively flutters within your chest, and your movements now seem to almost have an eagerness to them as you situate yourself above him. Immediately, his hands are gripping at your thighs, helping to guide you over his mouth and making sure you’re comfortable all the while. A fact which makes your heart warm at the tenderness he still shows you despite the position you find yourselves in.

Sparing a glance upwards, Yunho meets your gaze. His eyes are dark as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, an eagerness shining within his own as you slowly lower yourself onto his awaiting mouth.

Yunho licks his lips, eyes drinking in your dripping entrance as he pulls you into him. A content hum builds in his chest, rumbling just beneath the surface as he inhales deeply once more.

The first brush of his tongue over your folds has a moan escaping you while his eyes flutter shut in bliss. His grip tightens, pulling you impossibly closer as his lids flash open, eyes pure black as a pleased snarl escapes his throat. Without another second of hesitation, he dives back into you.

Shamelessly, his mouth laves over your folds, drinking in every drop of sweet nectar you provide for him, and absolutely adoring how you keen above him. His hands hold you steady, your thighs shaking around his head as he caresses your entire pussy with his lips, tongue delving greedily between your folds as your essence begins to drip down his chin.

The first flick of his tongue over that sensitive little clit of yours has your whole body jolting, a whine of his name slipping past your lips. The way your one hand comes to tangle itself in his locks, tugging at his roots as he repeats the action lets him know you’re enjoying this almost as much as he is. Only, the fact that you bring your opposite hand up to cover your mouth has a frown pulling at his features.

Immediately, his one arm reaches up, tearing your hand away from your mouth as his sucks you clit between his lips.

Don’t you dare hide your beautiful sounds from me, his voice rumbles out throughout your head, and Yunho can feel you clench around his tongue. I want to hear everything.

The whine of his name he receives in response is like music to his ears.

Slowly, his hands begin to trail up your thighs, fingers digging into the skin of you ass as he pulls you in closer. His eyes flash black at the first curse he hears you moan out, loving the way your hips begin to grind down against his mouth, meeting every movement of his tongue over your wet folds.

That’s it, Petal, he groans, the vibrations sending pleasant shockwaves echoing throughout your core. Just like that. Lose yourself on my tongue.

Your chest heaves, breath coming in ragged pants as you feel yourself clench around nothing once more. You never realized how intense it could be hearing his voice echoing shamelessly throughout your head, tone nothing but a low growl as he laves his mouth over your dripping cunt.

At one particular flick of his tongue over your clit, you’re practically folding in on yourself, a loud moan escaping you.

“Fuck, Yunho,” your voice is airy, breathless as your thighs tighten the slightest bit around his head, “just like that.”

The growl that he lets out is nothing short of pleased as he pulls you in impossibly closer, suckling your clit into his mouth once more, before repeating the same movements which had you keening above him earlier.

So fucking sweet, My Queen, he moans against you, cock twitching as his eyes flutter closed for the briefest of moments. Absolutely addicting. I could get drunk on you.

The whine that escapes you strokes his ego like never before, his tongue gliding through your folds as your juices drip down his chin.

So fucking beautiful, his eyes shine with nothing but adoration as he looks up at you, that all too familiar darkness swirling within as he watches you toss your head back in pleasure. He hums as he feels your fingers tighten in his hair. You are perfect in every way, My Queen. So unbelievably perfect, and all mine.

“Yours,” you moan, eyes closing in bliss as nothing but pure ecstasy begins to flood your veins. “Fuck- all yours.”

The snarl that escapes him is nothing short of feral as his grip tightens on your ass. The way your thoughts still echo through his own mind has a pleasure unlike any other flooding his veins, and he can tell just from the way your hips begin to rhythmically grind against his mouth that you’re getting close.

That’s it, My Queen. Let yourself go. His voice is nothing but encouraging the closer and closer you get to your release, feeling him beginning to caress your mind just as tenderly as his lips caress your clit.

The added stimulation has your entire body shaking, that coil winding tighter and tighter within you with each passing second. You lean into him more than you know, and Yunho would not have it any other way.

Your fingers grip onto his hair for dear life as your whole body trembles, the edges of your release creeping even closer.

Go on, Petal, his voice is but a desperate plea as he continues to caress you in every way he knows how. A desperate snarl builds in his chest, needing to see you come undone for him like this. Bloom for me.

Your whole body stills, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. A loud whine of his name escapes your lips, walls rhythmically clenching as your release floods his every sense, Yunho dinking up every last drop you offer him with a pleased growl on his lips.

Slowly, languidly, he laves his tongue over your folds, not wanting to waste anything that you have to offer him as he absolutely revels in everything you. The way you look, chest heaving with his design over your body as you attempt to catch your breath is a sight he knows that he will commit to every memory of his, eyes shining with a deep fondness as he pulls the slightest bit away. Gently, he trails his lips over the skin of your inner thigh, kissing lightly along the sensitive flesh there as you come down from your high.

The way your fingers begin to lightly thread through his hair, a pleased hum escaping you in the next moment has a pride unlike any other swelling in his chest. The added way your legs tremble as you move off of him has a pleased rumble building within his throat once more.

In the blink of an eye, he’s sitting up, pulling you back into his lap as his lips find purchase on your own.

This kiss is much more relaxed, his tongue softly stroking against your own as he allows you to taste yourself on his lips. His hands are back on your thighs, and he can feel the warmth from your chest radiating against his own as he keeps but a hairsbreadth of space between your two bodies. The way he can hear your subtle praises floating through his mind warms his heart like you wouldn’t believe.

Parting from your lips only for a moment, Yunho absolutely adores how you come to rest your forehead against his own.

“I love you,” he breathes, staring deeply into your eyes. Eyes of which he knows are reflecting that same look of care and adoration as his own.

“I love you,” your tone is soft, voice a mere whisper as it tenderly caresses his ears. Your one hand gently moves to cradle the side of his face, a loving smile pulling at your lips. “Now, become one with me, My King.”

Yunho’s eyes flash black once more, his heart thundering beneath the skin of his chest as he claims your lips with his own.

“With pleasure, My Queen,” he hums against your mouth, breath hitching as he feels you take his throbbing cock into your one hand.

Pumping him a few times, you line him up with your entrance, steadying yourself with your free hand on his shoulder. His own grip tightens around your thighs, gaze flitting downwards as he feels your thumb tease over the head of his cock.

You lock eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Still okay?” His voice rumbles out, and you can hear the tender love and care he has for you bleeding through.

Your heart warms, a soft smile painting your features as you nod. “Very okay.”

Again, your thumb strokes teasingly over his slit and he has to bite his lip to suppress his moan.

“Are you okay, Universe?” You turn the question back on him, and this time, it’s Yunho’s chest that swells with that unquestionable warmth as he hears that same tender love and care dripping within your own tone.

“Never better, Petal,” he smiles, eyes crinkling slightly in the corners.

You mirror the expression before placing your lips on his own for the nth time this day.

Slowly, you begin to sink down on his cock, parting only briefly from the kiss as you let out the sweetest of whines. The way he feels stretching you out has your eyes squeezing shut, lips parting as you cling to him for dear life.

Yunho, on the other hand, is faring no better. The way your wall feel, warm and wet, sliding down and enveloping his cock draws a low moan from his lips. He can feel himself twitch within you once he’s fully seated, holding onto you desperately as you clench around him.

“Fuck, My Queen,” Yunho’s head falls forward, forehead resting against yours as he attempts to control his breathing for the time being. “Fits perfectly.”

“Feels so good, My King,” you hum contently, eyes still closed as you clench around him once more. “So full.”

His lips part, another moan tumbling shamelessly from his mouth as your words wash over his very soul.

Another moment passes by like this with the two of you simply holding one another in each other’s arms. Nothing is said, nor does it need to be, as you continue to bask in this tender moment, sharing in this intimacy as one.

“Whenever you are ready, My Queen,” he breathes, fingers digging a little firmer into the skin of your thighs.

You nod, taking a deep breath and feeling your chest rise and fall along with his own.

In the next second, you begin to move.

A low groan escapes his lips as he helps to guide your movements over his cock. The way you clench around him again has his eyes swirling with that all too familiar blackness as he takes in every single expression you offer to him. Leaning in, he claims your lips with his own once more.

Slowly, carefully, Yunho begins to trail his hands up your sides, causing a pleasant shiver to caress your spine. Of course, he’s careful not to smudge his designs, but at this point, he doesn’t care. The only thing on his mind is pulling you closer, and making you drown in the pools of his ecstasy that only he can provide for you.

“That’s it, Petal,” his eyes shine as he meets your gaze, thighs twitching beneath you as you continue to move over him. “Just like that.”

“Yunho,” the whimper of his name falling from your lips is like music to his ears.

“So good to me,” he breathes, his one hand caressing along your spine before his fingers are digging into the skin of your back, right over where his name is drawn on you in the ancient tongue. “So perfect and all mine.”

“Yours,” you repeat the word from earlier, nothing more than a breathless moan escaping your lips as you feel the tip of his cock brush up against such a tender spot inside of you. Your breath hitches, walls clenching involuntarily around him as he smiles at you. “And you’re mine.”

“That’s right, My Queen,” his voice edges on a pleased growl as he meets your gaze, pulling your body flush against his own as he leans further back into the couch. “I’m all yours.”

“Fuck, Yunho-“ your eyes flutter shut as his cock brushes up on that special spot inside of you once more. “My King.”

An unabashed moan tumbles from his lips as your voice washes over him, cock twitching inside of you as his grip tightens around your body.

His breathing deepens, gaze dark as he watches you move above him like this. A moment later, his lips are back on your skin: biting, licking, sucking - anything to have you keening against him. He has to see you fall apart again. He has to be the sole reason for your ecstasy once more.

“You’re doing so well for me, My Queen,” his fingers press a little firmer against the skin of your back, your blood mixing with his own against his skin and drowning his senses in everything you.

Picking up your pace, you allow your head to fall forward, succumbing to the pleasure he is providing for you at the moment. Burying your face into the side of his neck, you cling to him for dear life as he continues to guide your movements over his cock, nipping at the skin of your ear.

“That’s it, Petal,” his voice is but a low growl against the skin of your neck. “Lose yourself on me. Lose yourself to the pleasure only I can provide for you.”

His lips are back on your neck, sucking tenderly at the flesh there and feeling your pulse rushing beneath the skin. He smiles.

Your one hand comes to rest over his chest, right over his own mark as you lean the slightest bit away from him. This new angle has you gasping, eyes rolling as you continue to move over his cock. Each stroke along your inner walls makes your head spin, lips parting and brow furrowing.

Slowly, carefully, Yunho reaches down between your two bodies as his thumb begins to flick at your clit. The way your whole body positively jolts, a whine of his name falling from your lips has his eyes flashing black once more.

“That’s it, Petal,” his breathing is ragged as he attempts to hold onto his last bits of shredded sanity for the evening. He has to see you falling apart on top of him - because of him, once more. “Let yourself go. I’m right here.”

Again, he caresses your mind with the tenderest of touches, feeling your thighs begin to shake against his own.

That all too familiar coil begins to wind itself tighter within your lower abdomen, and with each flick of his thumb over your clit, combined with the sinful way his cock fills your tight little hole, you know you won’t last much longer. From the way his growls become more frequent, you can tell that he won’t, either.

“Come on, My Queen,” his words are but a snarl on his lips, gaze locked on where your two bodies meet as he can feel your essence beginning to drip onto the skin of his thighs. “Come for me. Come for Your King.”

Your whole body trembles, the nails of the hand you have resting over the skin of his heart digging into his flesh as your lips part in a silent scream. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, clinging onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you for the second time that day.

Not even a moment later, Yunho is following close behind. The way your walls feel spasming around his cock, combined with the way you desperately cling onto him, has a low groan of your name falling from his lips.

He holds you close, bodies pressed firmly against one another as he releases deep inside of your walls. You can feel yourself clenching around him as you attempt to catch your breath, head falling forward to rest on his shoulder.

Lovingly, his hand strokes along the skin of your spine, tracing the design along your back softly.

“You did so well for me, Petal,” his voice is low, right by your ear as he begins to place tender kisses along your bare shoulder. “So good to me.”

“Yunho,” you curl in closer to him, face buried in his neck as you hum contently. “I love you.”

“I love you, My Queen.” You can feel his entire chest rumble with a pleased hum, his grip tightening ever so subtly around you.

For the next few minutes, neither of you move, both simply content to revel in each other’s embrace. Still, Yunho brushes a tender hand along your back, your breathing syncing with his once more as your hearts continue to beat as one.

“Are you alright, Petal?” His voice pulls you back out of your own thoughts and back to reality as you finally lean away from him for the time being.

A soft smile is sent his way. “More than okay, Universe.”

“Good,” he hums, a smile of his own painting his features. “I’m glad.”

“Are you okay, Yunho?” Once more, you find yourself repeating those same words from earlier in the day.

“Never better, Petal,” he repeats his own words yet again, a large smile taking over his features as he continues to gaze lovingly at you.

A minute later, you reluctantly separate yourself from him, feeling your combined releases dripping down the skin of your thigh as you stand back on shaky feet. Immediately, Yunho is there to steady you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he transports the two of you to a bathroom. One that is unfamiliar to you, but at the way he swiftly draws a bath for the both of you, you know that you must be in his room right now.

Walking over to you, Yunho gently caresses the side of your face with his hand.

“Make yourself comfortable, Petal,” he smiles softly. “I’ll be right back.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s disappeared from in front of you. You hardly get one foot in the tub when he’s reappearing, two glasses of water held in his hand.

The image makes you smile as you sink into the warm water, gladly accepting the glass in the next moment when he offers it to you. In the blink of an eye, he’s sliding into the tub beside you.

Placing the now empty glass to the side, you lean into him, loving the way his one arm automatically wraps itself around your shoulders. The security you feel as he pulls you into his side has your heart swelling in your chest.

Then, your eyes are catching on the intricate swirls still adorning your arms.

“It’s a shame to already be washing such a beautiful design away,” you comment, raising your arm slightly above the water as a slight pout pulls at your lips.

“Don’t worry, Petal, I have plenty more where that came from,” Yunho chuckles, placing a tender kiss onto the side of your temple. “Besides, I will never forget how you looked today, or the meaning behind it. For as long as I live, I will always remember.”

A heat blooms on your cheeks. Grabbing his one hand in your own, you bring the back up to your lips, placing a gentle kiss against it. Slowly, your thumb begins to brush over his skin, resting your head against his shoulder as your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” Your voice is soft, allowing the sound of the trickling water to surround you both as you bask in each other’s presence for the time being.

Yunho hums, pulling your intertwined hands into his lap so that he can run a finger gently over the small scar on your arm. In the blink of an eye, he’s healed the cut, beginning to slowly wash his blood from your skin in the next moment.

You smile, “neither will I.”

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