#it makes me really happy to hear you like my art!! one day I’ll be able to lessen it to 8-11 hours and I’ll be.

[onegroovyrose]

Your art is so gorgeous! How long does it take you to finish a single artwork?

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH?? 🥺❤️❤️

Oh goodness I think I would say that once I get started it usually takes me around 2.5-3ish days to finish a piece (close to 9-12 hours maybe?) but only if because I still struggle with poses and I have the most unoptimized (like really unoptimized ASDLKBHAS) coloring process!

[remxedmoon]

so all you need to do right now is disappear.

HHHHAPPY ISATVERSARY EVERYONE. here’s redraws for every single battle cg in the game. 36 drawings this time around, with 11 of those being custom (though admittedly a good portion of those are edits). combined with the portrait redraws i made back in september, i’ve made 114 redraws for this project! jesus christ! just like those redraws, these are completely free to use!! as long as i’m credited and it’s not for commercial purposes, go wild!! do whatever you want!!!

no i didn’t make these for isat’s 1 year anniversary this is just wildly good timing.

i genuinely can’t fit all of these cgs in one post even with the 30 image limit on browser, but i’ll still try to fit Most of them below the cut (without making this post horrifically long), along with some notes that might be important 👍

okay! once again, i labeled all of the custom art as such in the drive(UPDATE. NNOT TRUE ANYMORE. reformatted file names to be easier to mod in auau. apologies!), but if you want a full list, the customs are hatless siffrin jackpot, bonnie jackpot, bonnie special attack, bigfrin attack, and a bunch of alts which are definitely not related to any projects i’ve been thinking about don’t worry about it. and out of those customs, only like. 3 of them are actually completely from scratch.

while i did my absolute best to keep the aspect ratios completely the same as the originals, there’s 3 exceptions that i just couldn’t get to work.

isabeau’s hair in his special attack cg wouldn’t fit in frame if i kept things completely accurate to the og, so i moved his cg down a bit. it shouldn’t cause any issues with modding or anything, it’ll just appear slightly lower than it does in game. alas…

isabeau’s sleeve and mirabelle’s hair made their jackpot sprites a little larger than the originals? i’m hoping this doesn’t have too much of an effect (since the jackpot sprites have inconsistent sizes) but i can’t test this myself unfortunately. aaa feel free to let me know on discord if any problems arise!!

i managed to fix these, so they aren’t going to cause problems now, but my original drawings for mirabelle and siffrin in the final attack scene were a pain in the ass to fix. mirabelle’s sprite was slightly too talk to fit in frame and siffrin’s hat whacked bonnie in the face while i was editing everyone together. i’m only mentioning this because it took like an hour and a half to fix them and finish the scene.

all that aside, these were a fucking BLAST to work on. apparently this ended up taking 57 hours over exactly 10 days. which is a little worrying if you do the math on that but somehow i have not burnt myself out. i will be doing enemies at some point!!! but probably not for a little bit. i think my friends will actually kill me if i don’t take a break.

once again, happy birthday isat. you’ve ruined my life and i wouldn’t have it any other way (silly).

also, on an actual serious note, this little timeloop game has genuinely changed my life for the better? you guys are probably sick of hearing it at this point (or maybe not, i don’t talk about myself That Much. i hope), but i was practically a ghost for about 2 years before joining this fandom. it’s a little surreal to suddenly have friends (plural!!!) and people who Care about me, or even know i exist, honestly. it’s weird!! in a good way!!!

i don’t think i would’ve ever come back to social media if this community wasn’t so welcoming. i’ve met a lot of really great people through this game!!! so, uh, thank you isat, i guess. here’s to another year.

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (3) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 3.4k

In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on. 

You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore. 

As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return. 

Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch.  You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls. 

One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you. 

“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook. 

“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”

You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”

You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”

“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”

“I think it’s fun,” You said. 

“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”

You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”

“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”

“Maybe,” You spoke honestly. 

The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”

“We could paint together?” You perked up. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”

“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”

“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”

“I do,” You said quickly.

Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”

“I . . . “

“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”

“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”

He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”

“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”

It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you. 

You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”

“You don’t care?”

“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”

You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye. 

“We should take the boat out.”

“Now? Where?” 

“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”

It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”

Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”

Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”

“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”

The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you. 

You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”

You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other. 

You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it. 

“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”

“It really is,” You agreed. 

“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.” 

The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way. 

As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were. 

Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”

You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door. 

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”

“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”

“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head. 

“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.” 

As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time. 

After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”

“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”

“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs. 

You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”

You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles. 

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”

“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”

You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.” 

If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time. 

Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”

You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology. 

Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”

Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers. 

“We could take his girl.”

Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”

Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him. 

“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”

“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”

“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”

Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him. 

“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”

“And after you’ve cornered the market?”

“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter. 

“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”

With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.

“I-I couldn’t find you.”

Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“She doesn’t drink.”

 Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment. 

Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him. 

“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.” 

 When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you. 

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”

“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along. 

Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs. 

“How you liking Kildare?” 

“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”

“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously. 

Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him,  “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?” 

Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)

PART 4

[court-jobi]

Reheat

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (support-hero!reader x teacher Izuku)

Words: 2.5k

Rating: G~

Warnings: comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, work stress (livin' vicariously), talks of the future, a few fem pronouns used, but generally gender-neutral

Summary:

Izuku letting himself into your home after a long day has become comfortable background noise, and one you love to hear while you're bogged down. Work has been following you home all week. He's proud of you, without a doubt... But equally concerned when he sees your dinner half-eaten, your mind scatterbrained and racing faster than he can anchor you, and your angel eyes in desperate need of some TLC. He's cemented his place in your heart- and sees no reason he can't make himself at home here already.

A/N: do I have bigger fics in mind? Yes. Did I write this instead of sleeping bc I love soft, encouraging Deku? Also yes. Izuku Midoriya is a motivational speaker.

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

“Hey honey! I’m here!”

Over the tinny, background chatter of a podcast streaming from your phone, you call back to Izuku letting himself in.

“Hey you~” You throw interest into your voice, but still stayed tuned into your work.

“Ooo what’s this… What did you make here on the stove?”

“Risotto– it’s Italian~ has lots of veggies and good stuff in it,” you didn’t stop your typing pace, engrossed too heavily in getting an email out before you forget about it and Gmail has to ‘nudge’ you, again, “-gave it a Japanese spin with what I had in the house.”

“Oh wow– oh my gosh, honey– this is so good!”

You look up since your darling man has just appeared in your doorway, sparkly eyed to see you, but equally sated by what’s just graced his mouth. It was a meal you could babysit between taking a quick shower, getting ready for work, letting its flavors marry in the fridge throughout the day, and popping back on the stove that night.

“I’m glad, happy you like it~”

“D’you eat?” Izuku asks, midbite.

“Mhm. Little bit ago,” You motion to your bowl- but when he comes alongside you, he tuts over noting it's only half empty.

“You didn't finish- you feelin’ ok?”

Having circled back onto your screen, you double take again, this time caught by his perception check over you and feeling guilty. 

“Oh. Guess I didn't. I’ll nuke it up here in a bit.”

Izuku, setting down his bowl and starting the -normally alluring- task of rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms, comes to your side. However since you’re paying little mind to your peripherals, you missed the show the was making of it. A simple ask of ‘what’re you working on’ came from him, sounding no different than if he wasn't trying to make eyes at you; fact was, you just weren't paying attention.

“Just some stuff for the interns,” the sight of how many tabs are open on your split screen -and in your mind- make you sigh, “With this new role, I kinda feel like you some days. Lesson plans, processing their paperwork; it’s all the stuff you had to turn in as an intern– only now I'm the one dealing with it on the backend.”

Izuku sifted around though your training materials and your propped tablet making itself useful as a second screen. At your handwritten to-do list that’s one of the only things non-digitized nowadays, he makes an offhand comment that your handwriting is nice. It's the kind of cute, ‘blink-and-you’d-miss-it’ things he says that you just hum to, whether you were really listening or not.  

When you glance up to him again, you see he’s watching you with a caring gaze and feel caught.

 “What’re you looking at?” you tease, typing again to break the silence.

“A pretty girl…” Izuku teased lightly, “who doesn’t know when to take a break.”

You type away at his call out– the need for a night off at Izuku’s side is exactly why you've been working so hard at this. You figured you'd get some of this extra prep work under control now, so by the time he rolls around on Wednesday for your standing date n–

You freeze. 

Realizing what day it is in your planner.  It's Wednesday. For dinner.

“Oh my God- -you’re here.”

“Mhmmm~” Izuku really doesn't want to laugh, but his sucking in of a lip isn't hiding it well. 

“ohmygod imtheworst!!” you refresh your face in both hands, talking through the gaps.

“You are not!” Izuku chuckled, setting your notes down. “You just got busy with all the new tasks, because you’re just that good.” 

A faithful, scarred hand comes over to smooth over your back, pulling you over into a little half hug. You sink against him, relishing in his little forehead kiss. He can try all he likes to cure your embarrassment, but you look to him apologetically.

“I’ve never forgotten our dinner dates, ‘Zuku…”

Your darling shrugged unbothered, “Had to happen sometime. It’s no big deal.”

“Is to me,” you pressed- very much bothered.

“Honey,” Izuku chips your chin up, “You’re too hard on yourself. It’s ok, these things happen! I mean, you still made a delicious dinner; even if it was a bit of an oversight I would -in fact- be eating it.”

The pang of guilt hits you at forgetting. This was just a symptomatic sign that the brilliance of your taking on the additional role of Education Coordinator at the agency was perhaps an over-zealous one. Not only to be on-call for your base job as a linguistics quirk specialist, but to balance another full time role on the office hours end? Why did you convince Fatgum this was a good idea? It sounded like a stellar idea back at the beginning of the summer…

Now you’re forgetting not just who you’re supposed to be eating with- but also eating in general.

“I’m glad you did,” you boost Izuku’s elephant-like memory, “It feels so normal to have you here, it's not like I completely forgot I’d see you today. I just– maybe I… thought I was gonna take some to you, since I wouldn't see you till later in the week? I dunno.”

“C’mere- never got a real hug.” 

You rise at his hand’s insistence, and stretch up into his full, healing embrace. 

“Hi baby,” you cooed pitifully.

“Hi, my angel. Missed you today.”

You hummed at the affection, sinking into his neck more out of your residual misery.

Izuku simply took advantage of you being close to sway you in his wide stance- a dance, sans music.

“I appreciate you cooking so much for us,” he spoke gently from his perch over your shoulder, “I was looking forward to it all day, y’know? You’re always so thoughtful with everything you make.”

He’s pressing into you with compliments- against your hard wiring to accept…

“‘Zuku.”

“It’s true~ you’re generous! You remember what my favorites are, and leave out the stuff I don’t like; you even send me leftovers. And you make snacks and treats for when the midnight munchies strike– what can’t you do?”

“Zuku…”

“And you–” he runs a hand through your hair as he sways your shy self back and forth, “-- make for the most funny, beautiful, fascinating, most inspiring company I could ever hope to share a meal with.”

Head thunking onto his shoulder, you playfully land a closed fist on his chest with a muffled, whiny plea for him to stop.

He sighs, all in good humor.

“This streak of yours... I really have my work cut out for me, don’t I? Still can’t imagine how bad it must be in that brilliant mind that my incredible girlfriend has such a hard time accepting the tiniest compliment. Maybe it’s all that late night American comedy you watch...”

You exhale then fix him with your coolest look of sarcasm, anything to show that you have a modicum of having your shit together. So you cope with humor- who doesn't?

–shame that it looks too much like a pout and makes you decidedly not threatening at all, because Izuku just beams brightly at you in response.

“Oh! Now there’s my melty princess- I was wondering where she went.”

And at that, the aloofness was gone, and you snort into a laugh and hug him tighter around the neck. He even scoops you up and gives you one little twirl for good measure. 

When he set you down, Izuku cups your face in his hands and gifts you a few more forehead kisses before demanding your sights. 

“Now. We need to get you to finish eating first. Then, what can I do to help you tonight, hm? How can I make things easier for you?”

With a softer eye to your desk’s work, you sat back down staying connected to your ever doting Izuku by way of your hand in his. You tried again to focus back. You're newly refreshed by his affections and attempt for a more positive outlook, 

“Well, my goal of doing this tonight was so that I didn’t have to go in early tomorrow. Course, if I do run myself ragged tonight, I won't be any good to anyone there– or for you, here. But I think if I pare it down to just getting these e-sigs ready and getting their time-in checklists set up for their work study onboarding, that would give me a good enough start, and I can fill in the rest of their packets tomorrow. But that means I’d need -ugh- maybe… another hour of work tonight?” you looked to him for his approval, “I have a template, so it shouldn’t take me forever.”

“Alright! You’re the boss,” Izuku supported your plan with a smile, “How about I take care of the kitchen for you while you finish up?”

“You do not have to clean my kitchen!” you spouted back, offended– causing a laugh to burst from him, “It’s not funny! I didn’t ask you to come over after a day of work yourself to just slave away at my mess.”

Izuku fixed you a look, as if you knew better. 

“I think I can tidy up a kitchen, no matter how busy of a day I’ve had. Yours isn't even over yet- so when precisely were you going to have the energy to hammer at it? You’ll enjoy not having that mountain waiting for you.”

You huffed, but smiled gratefully all the same. 

“Besides, it’s just me- doing something nice for the woman I love; and I happen to like doing nice things for you. You deserve a clean space, hun.” 

He cleared off your previous bowl to reheat along with your empty water cup. Shaking the hollow straw inside to where it clinks, he knows exactly what you need and tells you so.

“You are getting a screenless break first, though. Something tells me you didn’t the first time around~”

Settled with a fist propping up your face, you swooned over this darling man. 

Trusting Autosave to have done its job, you shut the laptop down blindly, “Sure didn’t~” 

Izuku just rolled his eyes and stepped out of the study. 

You neaten up the collated stack of applications laid out by you and stepped over to the couch, taking a kneeling perch on the end while you sought out a new record for the player on the side table. Setting one on, it was able to fire up and fill some new life into the room with a movie score you haven’t listened to in a while. Everything just sounds better on vinyl.

When Izuku came back in the room, he’d found his houseshoes and returned with renewed interest to your music choice- and with a pleased expression seeing you actually lounging and taking things easier than how he found you. He traded your reheated meal in exchange for your blue-light glasses, which he’d then clean with a pocket square and set back on your desk once they were smudgeless.

“Now, that’s a better sight~ here you go, all set for later.”

You enjoyed Izuku’s company while finishing dinner, listening to him outline his workday while he cradled your legs in his lap. He'd had a pleasantly eventful one, with plenty to say about it. You’d play ‘two truths and a lie’ sometimes when he didn’t want to bore you with a particularly mind-numbing schedule, which pleased you just as well. You excelled at it, while he gave away his fictions every time- a terrible liar for the game, but great for a faithful partner, you reasoned.  You truly loved hearing him talk and talk, your love only growing at the domesticity of this feeling and never wanting that to change. 

Once you were done, you were honestly content to hear him continue his tangent, but it seems his inner discipline was stronger than yours. 

“Alright, now to attack that sink~”

You bemoaned again for his sake. But since you made such a small, affected noise, Izuku paused mid-rise, and sat back down a bit closer to you. He stretched an arm over the back of the couch, encouraging you to come closer and met you for a sweet kiss in the middle.

His mere presence reverted you to a younger self sometimes– one desperate for his attention, good or bad. It wasn't the loveliest impulse, but he clearly thinks it's all part of your charm seeing as he gives in every time, anyway.

“Thing is,” Izuku spoke softly while adoring the hand now placed in his, “If things keep going the way I think they’re going -the way I hope they’re going- it’s.. not hard to imagine that there’s gonna be both our dishes to clean up all the time. In our kitchen, in our home someday. So this is just practice, right? Seems perfectly normal to me. How it should be.”

That idea bloomed in your chest, the thought of sharing a home with him- where this exchange of chores and time together could be your new normal. Only it would be a future where he didn’t have to leave at the end of the night and go back to a bed with compact, collegiate-designed storage at the campus accommodations he stays in on the instructor's wing. He’s got enough to get him by, but he noticeably prefers your home here closer to downtown.

“And what happens when we both wanna ditch the dishes?” you countered sweetly.

Izuku smirked, “That’s what a dishwasher is for. Another thing we’d own together…”

“Forward thinking, there.” You relished that idea. 

Izuku nuzzled your forehead thoughtfully. 

“You’ve been doing things on your own for a long time– and it shows, sweetheart.”

His words came carefully, from a tender place spoken in confidence between you, referring to when you’ve spent other late nights like this one fueled with hot tea and a desire to keep ignoring the clock.

“And I know you’ve been used to that since you’ve been traveling so much, not even having roommates to help keep you company or lighten the load. I keep wishing I could have known you sooner, had more time with you before you had to learn some of those things the hard way… but I’m happy I get the chance to, now. I’m here now, and you’re not alone, so I hope you’ll let me take care of you when I can.”

With another happy sigh forcing your eyes shut, the mental will it took to not let the tears of a perpetual eldest daughter leave you was intense.

Izuku Midoriya never failed to hit the nail on the head when it came to pep talks; he does the same with his students. But why his ones aimed at you had to have a Full Cowling dash of heartfelt anecdotes in it, you don't know. But you're grateful. You're so grateful for him. 

“If you don’t quit talkin’ like that, Izuku, I will never let you leave this condo.”

He chuckled again, lifting your cheek for another kiss, “Twist my arm, love.”

Ultimately, he rose to quit distracting you, but not without you watching him leave with a hunger you’d never felt for another soul before. 

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐑𝐄

ㅤㅤmarcus pike x art historian!reader

genre: mutual pining, friends to lovers, forced proximity, smut, minors dni,

word count: 6k

summary: when a famous art collector is murdered, circumstances lead you to be temporary roommates with Marcus Pike.

warnings: oral sex (marcus receiving), marcus getting spoiled, some very mild angst, idiots in love

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @sevillagrenada! thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥

** dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜

Another day, another handsome detective at your doorstep.

It’s been a few months since you and Marcus first got acquainted. He had visited you during one of your busiest hours, asking you for information on a recently stolen painting while you were desperately trying to sort out a curated disaster by one of the interns. It didn’t end well. You ended up shouting at him to leave you alone and even though you regretted your choice in showing how distressed you were, it was what it was. What surprised you later, however, was finding him in the early morning hours with two coffees and blueberry muffins. He apologized profusely and asked for a do-over. Something that you were more than eager to oblige. 

And the rest, what most art historians like you would say, was history. 

Now he visits you almost every morning if he can. Thanks to his charm, you were now considered the number one go-to person of the FBI when it came to art theft. A title you didn’t mind having. 

“A bit early even for you, don’t you think?” you say, handing him the folders you’d been carrying. You smile as he lets out an exaggerated “oomph” and go to open the door. “Don’t be a baby, detective.” 

“I just wanted to see you, what’s the harm in that,” he answers, following you inside. “I have the day off tomorrow so I won’t be visiting.” 

“How thoughtful of you.” 

“Good to see that someone appreciates it.” 

He takes a seat as you head for the coffee machine. You’d got it a month ago, saving Marcus the trouble of waiting in line every morning before work. You appreciate having this as an excuse for him to stop by every morning. Luckily, the museum was on his way to work, meaning he was more than happy to visit you. Sometimes it’s hard to forget that this relationship between you two is meant to be nothing other than friendship, a platonic thing. But every day you find your heart swelling more and more at the sight of him. It’s been too long since you felt close to someone. It’s been even longer since you ached for a person you know you shouldn’t ache for. 

“Are you working on something with Remedios Valo?” When you turn you see him hunched over your desk, his eye meet yours, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, all these books were just sprawled here. I couldn’t help but look.” 

The coffee machine comes to life, the aroma mixing in with the scent of books. 

“That’s alright,” you answer, lips feeling numb. “And yeah, Olivier is adding one of her works to his collection so he wanted me to take a look.” 

“Which one is he buying?” 

You know he absolutely despises the idea of art being bought, hidden from the rest of the world to be a decoration. You hear it in the drop of his voice.  

“Les Feuilles Mortes.” His gaze falls back to the table. “Dead leaves. The one with the woman with orange hair and green dress.” 

He hums when he finally sees it on the page, “It’s a nice one.” 

“It is. It’s one of my favorites.” 

You bring the two cups of steaming coffee. His eyes find yours as you place them down, taking a seat. “You must be excited then,” he states. “To be seeing it in person.” 

“I’m just happy it’s going to someone I know will take care of it.” 

“I did meet him once. Seemed like a decent enough guy.” 

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, “You really hate art collectors don’t you?” 

“With a passion,” a soft smile touches his lips. “But I’ll make an exception for you.” 

You shake your head, smiling into your cup as you bring the steaming liquid to your lips. He’s always like this. Making sure just how much you matter, making you feel cherished, it’s a contrast to how you feel most of the time. Your eyes fall on the painting printed onto the glossy paper. Everyone interprets art differently. In this particular piece, you see loneliness but also a peaceful serenity. The shadow bowing to the woman, them being connected with a piece of blue yarn that she’s holding. The fact that it’s blue and not read also piques your interest. It makes you think it’s not something that is forced, it’s not the fates that brought them together but something else. Something more intimate and free. 

“So, when are you seeing this stunning artwork in person?” 

“Tonight.” 

Marcus already knows that today is going to be a long day. 

He knew it as soon as he entered his office, all fellow agents gathered in one place, murmuring. They parted like the Red Sea when he came through. That’s when the captain told him that extinguished art collector Olivier Balmaceda was found dead. Murdered. 

All he could think of was you. How excited you were to see him, and the painting, tonight. How Olivier was your friend and what would this mean for the investigation? Everyone here knew you, adored you. You being close to the murder victim certainly wasn’t good. He didn’t want you to be involved in any way, not even as a consultant. 

He steps out of the unmarked FBI sedan, his leather shoes echoing against the pavement as he approaches the crime scene. His partner, Tim, follows suit, both agents taking in the scene that awaits them.

The art collector's mansion looms before them, an opulent testament to a life steeped in appreciation for creativity. The air carries a faint scent of antique wood and the unmistakable aura of the art world. As they enter the expansive gallery, it becomes clear that Olivier Balmaceda's passion for art extends far beyond mere aesthetics.

The crime scene, bathed in the soft glow of gallery lights, is surreal. Olivier lies in the heart of his sanctuary, surrounded by the very beauty that defined his existence. The juxtaposition of life and death against the backdrop of artistic brilliance is haunting.

Tim glances at Marcus, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Together, they navigate the intricate dance of art and tragedy. The paintings, sculptures, and tapestries bear witness to the final act of a man whose life was intricately interwoven with the world he cherished.

As Marcus approaches Olivier's lifeless form, he can't help but feel the weight of the art that envelops them.

The art collector's mansion is cloaked in an air of somber anticipation as Marcus's focused gaze is drawn back to Olivier's lifeless form, nestled among the artworks that had once been a source of joy. The forensic team, adorned in pristine white suits, moves with meticulous precision, weaving through the crime scene like careful curators preserving a delicate masterpiece.

"Bullet entry at the back of the head. Looks like a single gunshot," Marcus hears one of them say, his voice a measured cadence amid the artistic silence.

Marcus nods, absorbing the gravity of the information. The team proceeds, each member contributing to the careful orchestration of documentation. His path takes him to the abstract painting, now surrounded by the scrutinizing eyes of forensic experts.

"We're scanning for any hidden messages or anomalies. This painting could hold clues.”

"Keep me posted," Marcus replies.

His attention turns to the delicate sculpture, now cocooned in an evidence bag. Tim approaches, his words a whisper against the backdrop of the gallery.

"Looks like they're treating the whole gallery as a crime scene. Anything stand out to you?" Tim inquires, his voice a muted harmony in the investigative symphony.

"Not yet. We need to dig deeper, find the connections between Olivier and whoever did this," Marcus responds, his words a subtle melody of determination.

The investigation shifts towards Olivier's desk, adorned with sketches and notes – a tableau of potential motives. They meticulously examines the papers, unveiling a narrative hidden within the inked strokes.

"Possible motive here. Let's see if Olivier was working on something that could've angered someone," suggests the expert, their words punctuating the air with a promise of revelation.

Acknowledging their findings, Marcus's thoughts churn with possibilities. Just as the investigation prepares to move to another sector of the mansion, his discerning eyes catch sight of a sketchbook nestled on a nearby shelf. A flicker of curiosity sparks within him, prompting the donning of gloves.

"Hold on a moment," Marcus interjects, a pause that reverberates through the dance of forensic activity.

The team halts, their collective gaze directed towards Marcus as he delicately retrieves the sketchbook. Its presence is unassuming, a silent witness to the unfolding drama. As Marcus flips through its pages, the sketches reveal a familiar artistic style, each stroke a brush with recognition.

"Wait... these look like—" Marcus begins, his words a murmur to the sketches that come to life beneath his fingertips.

Tim glances over, an inkling of recognition in his eyes.

"Isn't that—"

"Yeah. It's hers," Marcus confirms, closing the notebook.

So much for not getting you involved.

“Captain, you can’t be serious.” 

Your eyes are drawn to Marcus, his voice holding the tone of nothing other but disbelief. Your eyes turn to the floor. Olivier is dead. Murdered. And the only proper evidence to connect the dots of what happened is your sketchbook. The sketchbook you could’ve sworn you left in your office. The sketchbook that you only kept to yourself other than Marcus and a couple of more trustworthy people. One of them being Olivier.

You close your eyes. It’s exhausting to breathe. You focus on how your nostrils flare and let it all out through a small gap between your lips. Marcus inches closer, hand firm against the small of your back. 

“I’m dead serious, Agent Pike,” Captain Lana answers, her voice calm yet cold as ice. “Until this entire case is solved, she’s on house arrest and under your care.” 

“Just because we found her sketchbook does not mean she’s a suspect—” 

“Agent Pike,” her voice cuts through the tension in the room. A sharp shudder crawls up your spine, your skin prickling with attention as you open your eyes. Despite her tone, she doesn’t look mad. “You will do what is best for our consultant. As of right now, she is linked to the case of one of the biggest art collectors for reasons we do not know. The best thing we can do is keep an eye on her and protect her.” 

His mouth slams shut, his jaw clenched. His hand deserts your back and in that moment, all you can feel is guilt. Guilt of him being forced to do something he clearly doesn’t want to do. 

To share his home. 

“I understand,” he answers curtly, turning on his heel. “Let’s go get your things.” 

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you, shooting Captain Lana a glance, you follow him out of the office. 

Marcus hasn’t said a single word during the entire drive. Even when you finally parked, he just took your bags and led you up the stairs to his apartment. Your heart felt as if it was shattering into a million tiny pieces. The poor organ was already weighted down by your friend's death, and now one of the closest people to you couldn’t even look at you. 

He drops your bags to the floor and you slowly shut the door. You don’t even have it in you to look around, not that it would matter, you’ve already been here before. You doubt anything changed. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything else. “God, Marcus, I’m so sorry.” 

“For what?” 

His hands are on you in an instant, lifting your downturned gaze. You blink away the tears, breath catching in your throat as you meet his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in them. You could live an eternity there. “For . . for having to stay here. I know it’s inconvenient.” 

“Oh, sweetheart no, no. You could never be an inconvenience. I’m. . . I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I should’ve checked in on you. None of this is your fault understand. None of it,” his thumbs draw slow circles around your cheeks, the knot in your throat growing by the second. “And for all it’s worth, I’m happy that you’re here. I would be worried sick knowing that you’re alone.” 

Suddenly you’re being pulled into his chest, your senses completely enveloped by his scent. He gingerly cups your head from behind, holding you there, allowing you to disappear from the world for a while. 

The first tear escapes unexpectedly. It’s immediately absorbed into his shirt and the rest follows. He doesn’t try to hush you, doesn’t try to get you to stop. He allows you to break down completely. You cry and cry, until there’s nothing left anymore. Only then does he pull back, lifting your gaze to him once more. 

“Feeling better?” 

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Marcus.” 

He shakes his head, “I’m not doing anything you should be thankful for. This…this is what friends do.” 

That’s right. Friends. 

Your eyes sting when you blink, a forced smile tugging at your lips, “Yeah, friends.” 

You’re almost certain that you’re imagining it, but you swear the crease between his brows deepens with your answer. 

The soft glow of the TV screen bathes the room as Marcus settles onto the couch beside you. “Really? That’s what you want to watch?” 

Marcus raises a brow as he looks down at you. You’re wrapped in a blanket, looking as if the two of you have been living together for years. He loves how you’re already comfortable with the living situation. He wished he could have this in better circumstances without an ongoing murder investigation, but he’ll take what he gets. 

“I haven’t started the new season yet, it’ll be fun.” 

“It’s a murder mystery. Are you sure?” 

You snort, “I know the plot of Only Murders In The Building, Marcus. No need to remind me.” 

As the first episode begins, the room is filled with the intriguing soundtrack of the show. Marcus watches the characters unfold on the screen, but his attention keeps drifting back to you. The play of emotions on your face, the way you get caught up in the plot – it's more captivating to him than any murder mystery.

Gradually, you lean into him, seeking comfort in the shared moment. The warmth of your presence seeps into Marcus's consciousness, and he finds himself entranced by the way you become absorbed in the show. Unconsciously, his arm drapes around your shoulder, the gesture protective yet tender.

In the semi-darkness of the room, Marcus grapples with his own emotions. The line between friend and something more blurs as he navigates the uncharted territory of his feelings. As you snuggle closer, he can feel the gentle rhythm of your breath, the subtle rise and fall of your chest.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Marcus's mind. Does this closeness mean the same to you as it does to him? He wonders if you sense the subtle shift in the dynamics between you. The arm around your shoulder, a silent invitation, speaks volumes, but Marcus Pike remains in that delicate space between uncertainty and the unspoken desire for something more. The murder mystery on the screen becomes a mere backdrop to the complex enigma of emotions unfolding between two souls entangled in the intricacies of life and love.

Marcus's heart races as he lets his hand linger on your waist. He can feel the warmth radiating through the fabric of your shirt, and he wonders if you can feel the heat of his touch as well.

He watches your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation, but all he sees is the same intensity and focus on the TV. It both thrills and confuses him – is it possible that you can be so oblivious to the way he feels?

But as he watches you, he notices the faint hitch in your breath when his hand moves slightly, as if you're aware of his touch but trying to hide it. It only fuels the growing attraction between them, and Marcus can feel himself getting more and more drawn in.

His mind is filled with images of how he wants to touch you, and he can barely contain the urge to lean in and brush his lips against your neck. He wants to feel your skin against his, to explore every inch of your body.

The tension in the room becomes palpable, and Marcus can feel his heart racing. He looks over at you, and for a moment, he thinks he sees a flicker of desire in your eyes. But just as quickly, it disappears, and you go back to watching the movie without a second glance.

His hand moves even closer to yours, brushing against your fingers lightly. He can feel the heat emanating from your body, and he knows that you're just as affected by the electric chemistry between them.

His mind is clouded with desire, and all he can think about is kissing you, touching you. But he knows he needs to be patient. He can’t just make a move and potentially ruin the friendship you have.

But as the episode goes on, Marcus can barely pay attention anymore. All he can focus on is you, and the way your body moves slightly with each scene. He can feel himself getting harder with each passing moment, and he knows he needs to do something to release the tension.

Without thinking, his hand moves to your thigh, tracing small circles on your skin. He can see your breath hitch and your eyes flutter closed for a split second before you regain your composure.

He leans in closer to you, his lips just inches away from your ear. "Is this okay?" he whispers.

Marcus relaxes when you nod, eyes still glued to the screen. He knows you want to turn to him, to witness his feelings lingering in his eyes but he also knows that you can’t for the same reason why he can’t tell you how he feels. Fear. Fear of rejection. Of loss of a friendship.

So, his hand on your thigh is as far as he’ll go. Soothing you with the simplest of touches. 

The credits roll and the episode ends, Marcus can't help but feel a lingering sense of longing. He knows he needs to push these feelings aside and focus on the case, but he also can't deny the strong connection he feels with you.

As you stand up to turn off the TV, Marcus suddenly reaches out and takes your hand in his, surprising both of you. The air between them is heavy with unspoken words and tension, but they both know this isn’t the time or the place.

For now, they'll focus on solving the murder and catching the killer. But Marcus can't shake the feeling that this shared moment was the beginning of something more – something that could change everything.

It’s been almost two weeks now since you moved in with Marcus. And other than Olivier’s murder, things have been. . . peaceful. He’s been doing everything for you. You’ve never been taken care of to this extent before. It made you feel bad in a way, as if you were a burden to him and now he felt inclined to take care of you just because of the circumstances. 

However, you couldn’t ignore the tension either, the chemistry. Almost every night you thought of when the two of you watched TV. How close the two of you were. You often find yourself thinking about how differently that night could’ve ended. Only if you were brave enough, then maybe the friendship could’ve escalated into something more. 

While heating leftovers for the both of you from last night, the door clicks open. You expect to see his smile, the same question on his lips asking how your day was—but all you can see in his eyes is exhaustion. He forces a smile when he sees you, then silently heads to his room. Your lungs cave in on itself. Your body buzzing with worry, you look down at the barely heated leftovers. He deserves something more. Something fresh. 

So, as you quickly head down the hall to check on him, you order his favorites. You come to a halt at the door, heart beating in your throat, you knock. 

“I’ll be right there,” he says, almost apologetically, which makes you feel even worse. 

“I just wanted to check if you’re alright. Can I. . . Can I come in?” 

You’re about to head back to the living room when the door slowly opens. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the first three buttons of his shirt wide open, exposing skin. You barely manage to tear your gaze away. He looks vulnerable, defeated. 

“I’m okay,” he clears his throat. “I promise.” 

You ignore what he says and take a step forward, forcing the both of you inside the bedroom. It smells of cinnamon. “I ordered us some food from that place you like. We have some time to relax.” 

“Relax?” 

You let out the breath you’ve been holding and trap his face between your hands. You want to make him feel good. You want to pamper him. At least this one time, you want to do something for him instead. You know what his answer is going to be if you ask him about his day—he’ll brush you off, because it’s the case you’re involved in. The murder of your friend. 

“Let me make you feel good, Marcus.” 

His eyes widen, lashes fluttering, his lips part, “You don’t have to do that.” 

“I know I don’t have to but I want to.” You quickly add when you see the hesitation growing in his eyes. “Please.” 

You notice the hollow in his cheek, the way his jaw moves as he chews on the inside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest. After what feels like hours, his head jerks in a small nod, “Okay.” 

Marcus gently falls onto the bed and you drop to your knees, taking a place between his spread legs. You can feel his eyes on you. His gaze intense as you fumble with his belt. You tug down his pants along with his underwear, his hips slightly lifting to make it easier for you. His cock is still soft. It makes a certain type of hunger grow inside you. Placing both hands on his thighs, you dip down, taking him into his mouth. He sharply inhales, cock twitching over your tongue. It doesn’t take him long to grow in your mouth, and suddenly swallowing him down proves to be harder than you thought. 

Your nostrils flare as you attempt to swallow him down, your nose brushing against the soft curls. His hand gently cradles the back of your head, and when you look up you see his head falling back, his brows furrowed as he breathes heavily through his nose. 

Parting away, you suck the base of his cock, your tongue swirling. His hips jerk and a moan rips from his throat. “That—that feels good,” he swallows. 

“You like it slow?” you say, lips moving against sensitive skin. “Tell me how you like it. Show me.” 

“You’re doing great sweetheart, just do it how it’s best for you,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m not picky.” 

Brows knitting together, you pull away and fix him a half-hearted glare. You wrap your fingers around and begin to stroke him, witnessing the flex of his thighs. “I want to do it how you like it,” you state. “Show me or I’ll stop.” 

Your lips curl as you hear him whine. It’s such a beautiful sound. 

“Fine.” 

He drags you back down to his cock, your hand falling away. You open your mouth to take him once more, thinking that he wants to fuck your mouth, but instead, he presses your lips to the side of his cock. You feel the heat of him, the bulging of his veins. 

“Wrap your lips,” he rasps and when you do, he starts to move your head up and down. 

You let out a muffled moan, the vibrations sending shivers down Marcus’ spine. His movements are slow, almost as if he’s fucking himself deep into you—almost as if he’s been thinking about this for months. Your head bobs up and down, your lips pursed around him tightly. You hear him grunt above you, and you can tell that he’s struggling to keep himself in control. 

“Put your hands back on my thighs,” Marcus commands, and you do so without hesitation. “I want to feel the bite of your nails.” His thighs are shaking beneath your touch, and you can feel the coiled tension inside him, just waiting to snap. You do as he asks, digging your nails slightly into the flesh. Another whimper falls for him, a sounds desperate and needy at the same time. He pulls up and finally slips himself into your warm mouth, your eyes water as he pushes you down, taking him whole. 

“You’re gonna make me come,” Marcus grunts, his voice punctuated by the wet sounds of your mouth on his cock. 

You keep up the pace, eager to please him. You can feel his cock growing harder and harder inside your mouth, and you can tell that he’s close. You swirl your tongue around him, pressing your lips even tighter around him. 

“Fuck,” Marcus mutters, his hand gripping your hair tightly. “I’m gonna—” 

Before he can finish his sentence, he releases into your mouth with a deep groan, his hips bucking up into your face. You eagerly take him in, swallowing around him as he spills, hot come trailing down your throat. He lets out a heavy sigh, his body going limp as he comes down from his orgasm. 

You sit back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Marcus looks at you with admiration and slight embarrassment, his cheeks peppered with a faint shade of red. 

“Sorry, that was quick,” he murmurs, tugging you up and pulling you to his lap. “Now it’s your turn.” 

He leans towards your lips but you stop him by pressing two fingers, they’re soft. “We can think about me later,” you say, despite the inside of your panties being an absolute wet mess. “I just wanted to make you feel good.” 

“I want to make you feel good too,” he objects, nipping at your fingers. “Don’t you. . . I thought you wanted me.” 

The guilt in his eyes is back and your hand drops away from his lips. He’s holding you tight as if you might disappear.  

“I do,” you answer tentatively. “But I don’t want you to jump into this thinking you have to. I don't want you to do anything you might regret.” 

“Regret?” he shakes his head. “What does that even mean? I’m not jumping into anything. I’m not confused if that’s what you’re worried about,” his arms around you tighten, and with that, you know you’ve said the wrong thing. “You just sucked my cock—are you telling me that was out of pity? Gratitude?” 

You cut him off, “N–No. . .” 

“Then what was it?” his voice drops dangerously low, eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and hurt. “I’m one hundred percent here. It has nothing to do with the case. And for you to do something just because you felt bad for me. . . I thought we were finally getting somewhere after all of this.” 

“Marcus—”

“I think I want to be alone right now,” he turns his head away from you but doesn’t do anything to push you off of him. Your apology dies in your throat, your mouth suddenly dry. You slowly move away, the taste of his come still in your mouth as you contemplate what to do. What to say. 

But whatever you were planning evaporates with the ring of the doorbell.  

You’re sitting on the couch when Marcus comes home and sits on the armchair right across from you. You’re eyes slowly shift from your phone to meet his gaze, he continues to stare down, his thumbs thrumming over his thighs. 

It’s been an awkward couple of days after the argument you two had. Neither of you were brave enough to broach the subject, However, that didn’t mean what happened didn’t haunt you in the dead of night, both in a bad and a good way. 

“It’s done.” 

His words send a chill down your spine, your muscles tightening, “What’s done?” 

“The case. We found who murdered Olivier. . . and how your notebook got there.” Marcus takes a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours as he begins to unravel the mystery that has been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud.

"Olivier's murder... it was someone close to him. Both rival and friend," Marcus starts, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation. "Turns out, his friend had been eyeing the same collection for years. When Olivier outbid him for that prized painting, it pushed him over the edge."

You feel a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of shock and sorrow swirling within you. Olivier, with his vibrant personality and passion for art, didn't deserve such a fate.

"And my notebook...?" you prompt, needing to understand how your own belongings ended up tangled in this tragedy.

Marcus sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Olivier... he wanted to show your sketches to one of his friends. He thought you had real talent and he was planning on gifting you that painting."

Your heart sinks at the realization. Olivier, you’re going to miss him. Marcus wraps his arms around you, offering comfort and support as the weight of the emotions you've been suppressing finally spills over. You lean into him, the warmth of his embrace a soothing balm for the wounds of the past few days. His touch is both reassuring and grounding, reminding you that you're not alone in this tumultuous journey.

"I'm here," he murmurs softly, his fingers gently tracing comforting patterns on your back. "It’s over now. You can return to your life and begin to heal."

“Heal?” you blin at him, lips parting. “Return to my life? What does that even mean? We can’t go back to normal Marcus. Not after everything. . . I—” You swallow, the knot thick in your throat. “I care about you, Marcus. I care about you deeply and I just want you to know that. I don’t want you to think it was a one-time thing. Ot that I did it because of the circumstances. I did it because I wanted to. And I wanted to long before any of this happened.” 

As your heartfelt confession hangs in the air, Marcus's eyes soften, his expression reflecting a mixture of relief and affection. Without hesitation, he leans in, closing the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's a moment of shared vulnerability, a silent exchange of emotions that speaks volumes more than words ever could.

The warmth of his touch ignites a spark within you, a reassurance that despite the challenges you've faced, your connection remains unbroken. In this intimate embrace, you find solace and hope for the future, knowing that whatever trials may come, you'll face them together.

As the kiss deepens, the weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a sense of renewal and possibility.

Marcus's hands move to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he deepens the kiss. You feel his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire within you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair.

His lips move fervently against yours, conveying the unspoken emotions that have been building between you for weeks. You can feel his heart beating against your chest and it's a comforting reminder that you're not alone in this moment.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a tingle in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, arching your neck to give him better access. His hands roam over your body, his touch setting every nerve alight. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Your fingers move to his shirt, desperate to rid him of the barriers separating your skin.  His lips trail down your neck again, moving to your shoulder, his hands roaming freely over your body. You let out a soft moan, arching your back as his hands reach your waist, pulling your shirt off. The cool air hits your skin but it's nothing compared to the heat radiating between you two.

Marcus and you remove each other's clothes. Your hands roam hungrily over his bare chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He moans softly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move to your back, unhooking your bra and gently sliding it off. Your bare chest presses against his, skin against skin, and the sensation sends sparks of pleasure through your body. Your lips meet again, his tongue moving alongside yours, his hands roaming lower to your waist and down to your hips, pulling you closer.

You push him down to the couch, your hands reaching for his jeans. With ease, you undo the button and slide them off, revealing his toned legs and the bulge in his boxers. Your fingers trail down his stomach, feeling his muscles contract under your touch.

He flips you over, his lips moving down your neck and to your chest. With a flick of his tongue, he takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan of pleasure. His hands reach down, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off your legs.

As his lips continue to travel down your body, his fingers slide into your underwear, eliciting a gasp from you. You can feel the heat and wetness building between your legs, the tingling sensation increasing with every touch.

In one swift movement, he removes your underwear, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable to his touch. But with Marcus, you feel anything but vulnerable. In his embrace, you feel safe, loved, and desired.

And you know that is something that will never change. 

[morgana-larkin]

Love your work, i think ive read all ur melissa x reader fics😭. So yk how melissa says “youse”? I was wondering if u could make a fic where reader is a new teacher and shes from the south and constantly says “ya’ll” instead. Idk what after that tbh

Girl next time I'll need a bit more than that. And really happy that you love my work and thank you for the prompt. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I'm finally getting to all your prompts, so if you sent one, it's coming soon! I believe I have 5 other Melissa ones and 1 Chessy prompt.

Southern Girl

Warnings: Fluff, Reader having doubt

Words: 2k

You walk into the doors of Abbott all excited. You’ve been subbing for a year now, mostly at Addington Elementary, the charter school down the street. Now you’re Abbott Elementary’s new art teacher. You check in at the office and get your classroom key and badge with the photo from the interview a week ago. 

“Alright newbie, you’re here. Follow me to the teacher’s lounge and I’ll introduce you to the ones that I tolerate here.” Ava pipes up from behind you and you follow her there.

You both walk in and 8 sets of eyes fall on you two. 3 from a corner in the back, 3 from a table near the window and 2 from a table near the fridge. 

“Newbie this is where you introduce yourself.” Ava tells you as you were shocked with the sudden spotlight on you.

“Oh right, hi y’all my name is Y/n Y/l/n. I’m the new art teacher here.” You introduce yourself, your southern accent visible. Two teachers come bouncing over to you and talking a mile a minute. The things you got were Janine Teagues, second grade teacher as well as Jacob Hill, 8th grade teacher. The rest you didn’t catch at all as it was a lot before 8am.

“Janine dear, why don’t you and Jacob give her some room, she just got here.” One of the women from the table near the fridge says. “Hello dear, I’m Barbara Howard, kindergarten teacher.” She says gently as Janine and Jacob go to sit down. Barb then softly nudges the woman next to her and gets a weird look from the ginger. You have to admit that this nameless ginger is very attractive. “You should introduce yourself.” Barb tells her and she sighs.

“But she’s from the south, for all we know she can be a cowboys fan.” She says to Barb.

“The girl from south is right here and can hear you. And are you talking about the Dallas Cowboys?” You ask and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“So youse a fan?” She asks and crosses her arms.

“Of the cowboys, no. Never really been a fan until I got here to be honest. It was all the rage when I got here so I looked into it, the Eagles aren’t bad of a team.” You tell her and you see the slightest smile on her face. 

“I’m Melissa Schemmenti, 2nd grade teacher.” She introduces herself and you freeze.

“Schemmenti? Why does that name sound familiar?” You say and she sighs.

“Have you been to Addington?” She asks and you nod.

“Quite a bit actually.” 

“You might have met my sister Kristen Marie there then.” She says and you widen your eyes.

“Of course, I do know her. Her and I are texting buddies, we text about once a week. I honestly forgot about her last name.” You tell her and she shakes her head. “Wait you’re Melissa, she’s mentioned you a few times.” You add.

“All bad things I’m assuming, knowing my sister.” She says and you shake your head.

“No, not bad at all.” Mostly embarrassing things, but you ain’t mentioning that to her. “Well I’d love to stay and chat with y’all but I gotta skedaddle. Lots to do in just a week.” You tell them and then leave the room. Everyone turns to look at Melissa and while she doesn’t see it, she feels them all staring at her.

“What are all youse looking at?” Melissa says without turning to look at them.

“You gave your name so… willingly.” Janine says confused.

“You heard her, she doesn’t mind the Eagles, she seems alright.” Melissa says with barely a thought to the answer.

At the end of the day you go to turn into the teachers lounge to get your lunchbox, only to run into Melissa, physically run right into her.

“Oh I’m so sorry Melissa, you ok?” You tell her while you have your hands on her arms to stabilise her. 

“Ya I’m fine kid, are you alright?” She asks you and you nod. You go to get your lunchbox from the fridge and when you go to leave, she’s still there, waiting for you.

“Should I be flattered that you’re waiting for me?” You joke with her and she chuckles.

“I think so. I mean, I’ve never done it for anyone else before.” She says and you smile.

“Well considered me flattered then.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

“Well let’s, what did you say earlier? Skedaddle?” She teases you and you laugh. You both start to walk to the parking lot.

“Why Melissa, I hope you’re not making fun of the language of the south.” You joke with her and she laughs.

“Wouldn’t dream of it southy.” 

“Oh I get a nickname too? You’re too sweet.” You say and she playfully shoves your shoulder with hers.

You reach the parking lot and then you both walk to her car which was right next to yours. 

“Well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask her, not wanting this moment to end. 

“Ya, you will kid.” She tells you with a smile then gets in her car.

2 months go by and it’s safe to say you’re settling in pretty well. You’ve gotten support from your coworkers and your students are loving your classes. There’s one specific coworker that stands out to you and that’s Melissa. You’ve found yourself admiring her a couple weeks now. Ever since you were able to watch her teach, you’ve been wanting to again. At lunch, she offered you a spot at her and Barb’s table, which apparently has never happened before, and you find yourself staring at her when she’s talking. When she comes to drop her kids off at your class, you make yourself more presentable before she gets there, you quickly brush your hair, reapply lip balm, just anything to make yourself look better for her. You got looks from people when she invited you over to her house for the first time and you loved every second of it. You’ve also gotten weird looks from Barb and the trio lately and you have no idea why, until Barb talks to you. 

“Hello dear, can I come in?” She asks from your doorway and you look up from your sketchbook.

“Barb, hi. Ya of course.” You tell her and she smiles as she walks in and closes the door. “What’s up?” You ask as you put your pencil down and lean back in your chair to look at her. 

“I’ll be blunt with you.” She starts and you tilt your head at her in question. “You have a crush on Melissa right?” She asks and you widen your eyes. “We all see it, you’re not good at hiding it.” She adds.

Well no use in trying to cover it up. “Oh god, does that mean that Melissa knows?” 

You ask her and she shakes her head.

“No, Melissa won’t ever think that you’ll like her. The only way she’ll know is if you tell her.” She says and you sigh.

“Well that won’t ever happen?” You say and she tilts her head at you.

“Sweetheart, what reason can you have to not want to tell her?”

“Many reasons. About to start with the fact that she’s straight, she’s my friend, she’ll never be into me, she’s out of my league, and did I mention that she’s straight?” You say and she smiles at you.

“You did mention it. Dear, I have known Melissa a long time, and what I can tell you is that you’ve caught her eye. I’ve seen how she is when someone catches her interest and how she is with friends. She treats you differently then how she treats me and the rest of the Abbott crew, and everyone else she has ever befriended. What I’m saying is, I think if you told her about your feelings for her, you might be surprised of her answer.” Barb says and you look at her stunned. 

“I’ll- I’ll think about it.” You tell her.

“I wouldn’t take too long, Gary has his sights on her too.” She tells you and you widen your eyes.

“The vending machine guy?” You ask and she nods.

“Well she might be better off with him.” You say casually.

“Why do you say that? Why wouldn’t she be happy with you?”

“Cause I’m me.” You tell her and then get back to your drawing. Barb walks up to you and puts her hand on your shoulder.

“Yes you’re you, and Melissa likes who you are.” Barb tells you and then leaves.

At the end of the day you finish cleaning up the art supplies, then you grab your stuff and leave and you bump into someone on the way out.

“Oh sorry hon.” Melissa tells you.

“Oh Melissa, hi.” You stutter. “Wha- what are you doing in this corner of the school?” You ask her, considering her classroom is on the other side of the school.

“I came here to see you.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t see you at lunch today, or barely at all today actually.” She says.

“Melissa, are you saying you missed me?” You tell her in a teasing tone.

“I did actually, if you must know.” She says and playfully shoves your shoulder. “Something happened at lunch actually.” She adds and you tilt your head to let her continue. “Gary asked me out.” She says and you stop breathing for a second and widen your eyes.

“Oh.” You say, you stayed in your classroom at lunch today going over what Barb told you before lunch. Now it seems you missed your chance.

“I turned him down.” She says and that snaps you out of your head.

“What? You said no?” You tell her and she nods her head. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to go out with him. I’d rather go out with someone else.” She tells you and she takes a step towards you. You’re breathing quickens as you look into her emerald green eyes that captures you in them. Your faces are close together, as you’re the same height, it wouldn’t take much to lean forward and kiss her. You gulp as you realise she’s waiting for you to say something.

“And who is it that you’d rather go out with?” You ask and you glance down at her lips before looking into her eyes again.

“You.” Is all she says but it still leaves you breathless. You see her glance down at your lips briefly before looking into your e/c eyes. Without thinking, you lean forward and kiss her fiercely. She kisses you back with just as much force and she grabs the back of your head with both of her hands. You place your hands on her waist and press her up against the wall and you both continue kissing each other as if your lives depended on it.

 “Should we stop them? I mean it is still school property.” Janine says as the trio, Barb, Ava and Gary are watching you two make out down the hall.

“I think we should let them enjoy today. Then if we catch them making out again, then we can stop them.” Barb says, glad you both finally took the chance. “And Gary, thanks for asking her out, I knew it would make Melissa finally admit her feelings.” Barb tells him and he nods at her.

“Glad I could help.” He says and they all leave.

You both pull back to catch your breath. Melissa giggles as you look at each other. “Did you kiss all the southern girls that told you they have feelings for you?” She asks with a smile.

“I never liked them back so no.” You tell her and she cups your cheek. You surge forward to capture her lips on yours again, never wanting to pull back.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

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@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

Let me know if you want to be added!

[carolmunson]

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. 

[notjustjavierpena]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT Husband Javier and the reader are fighting the whole day but trying to repress it because of their kids- After they're asleep the two are arguing again and then boom makeup sex 😋 thank you angel !!!!

Fight

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This request literally had me up all night, and now it has come to life and possibly turned into one of the most sensual pieces I’ve ever written. I’m obsessed with them. 

Summary: You feel overlooked and unappreciated. Javier says the wrong thing and hell breaks loose, but he also knows how to say sorry. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (mdni!), domestic life and dynamic, grownups being assholes to each other, hurt/comfort, saying sorry to each other and to your kids because I’m healing my inner child, crying, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, passionate and rough sex, MAKEUP SEX!!!, clit stim, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, love love love, they are just crazy about each other 

Word count: 4.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596877

Fight

Chucho Peña is coming over tomorrow and that’s fine. 

You’ve made plans to make plans at this point though. The list of things you need to do before he arrives still gets longer every time you have a moment to think about it to yourself, teeny tiny details adding up to a day that’ll keep you busy from the moment you wake up. It would have been fine if you didn’t have to get the kids out of bed and prepared for school, and then go to work too, right on top of cleaning, shopping, cooking, and hosting — at 34 weeks pregnant.

Javier is Javier about it, reassuring you that it will be fine and that you just need to take a breath whilst he stands in the door to the garden, back towards you and smoking his morning cigarette whilst you try to tell Inés that she should have cornflakes instead of lucky charms for breakfast. 

“Oh,” Javier says after stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray that Lucas has made for him in arts and crafts class. He turns around and rests against the doorframe, “Can we have that chocolate cake you made last time? The one with the white chocolate frosting?”

You never personally thought that you’d ever get into an argument about chocolate cake. If you’d said this to the child version of yourself, she would have laughed out loud and told you that nobody could ever be angry about anything to do with dessert. Especially not chocolate desserts. Yet here you are, letting your fatigue get the better of you.

“Sure,” you let out a loud sigh, dragging it out to really let your husband know that you are not happy about his input, “Sure, Javi, I’ll just add it to my ever-growing list of things I need to do for your father.”

You hear it as soon as it leaves your mouth but you’re too stubborn to backtrack, watching Javier go rigid in the door. He furrows his brow in confusion, and then his expression turns into a frown and eventually a scowl. He doesn’t look downright angry but not happy either. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks defensively, body language telling you that he is getting ready for another attack. He enters the kitchen like he is walking on eggshells, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I only asked you if we could. You have every right to say no, and not be pi—“

Inés looks up at him with big brown eyes that are similar to his own. He swallows down the word, replaces it with something more child-friendly, “And not be rude about it.”

“Say no and watch you be a giant toddler about it? Great, I’ll definitely choose that,” you scoff, running on autopilot and clearing the kitchen counter whilst you argue. Out of the corner, you see Inés starting to squirm in her seat but you’re too far gone by now, “It’s not even my father, and I have to do everything for the preparation because you’re oh-so-important.”

“So we’re just never having my dad over ever again?” Javier seethes, mouth twitching in anger and threatening to put on a violent smile. He has some kind of ability to piss you even more off when he is just about to smile during arguments. 

“That’s not what I said, and that’s not the point,” you stubbornly bend down, hand on your round belly, to put your own plate into the dishwasher. Sebastian is due soon, kicking you as your pulse rises due to anger. Javier looks like he is contemplating whether to help you straighten again or not. 

“Then what is the point?”

With a hand on the edge of the kitchen counter, you manage to stand upright once more. You face Javier, finally scowling right back at him and he seems to shrink a little underneath your fury, “I’m exhausted, Javier. When do you think I have had a night to myself? I know you have a busy schedule, I do, but God—“

You drag the last word out, running a hand through your hair in frustration, “But you went out with Steve just days ago. I need to cook, clean, do the grocery shopping, take care of two kids, and - by the way - do it all with someone kicking my bladder every goddamn minute of the day. Which - by the way - is your doing.”

There is no reason to sound as venomous as you do, but you suspect that half of it is exhaustion and the other half is hormones getting the better of you and ridding you of better judgment. 

“Fine, you win,” Javier makes a display of holding his hands up in surrender but he mixes it with a roll of his eyes, and you almost go for his throat, “I’m a terrible husband.”

“Oh, you did not ju—“ You raise your voice.

Suddenly, you hear sniffling beside you. It pulls you right out of your head and makes you observe your surroundings, and with the way that Javier flinches, it seems to be doing the same to him. 

Inés' little voice breaks your heart, the sight of her even more so when you see she has covered her ears with her hands, “Mamá. Why are you yelling at Papá? Don’t you like each other anymore?”

Javier sends you a look that makes your stomach drop, something that tells you that you are not done here. He looks absolutely furious with you, especially after seeing his daughter cry.

But then he sucks in a deep breath and crosses the room to crouch down beside Inés. He rubs her back soothingly, “Nos gustamos mucho, mija.”

Your legs have made you join them before your brain can even get the idea. Ever so gently, you run your hand over Inés' hair, “I’m so sorry, baby. We won’t shout anymore. Sometimes we get bad feelings. Remember when we talked about those?”

Javier looks at you with his mouth still a thin line and you glare back at him without Inés seeing. He straightens to get a piece of paper towel, first dabbing his daughter’s eyes and then blowing her nose afterward. 

Lucas Peña peeks into the kitchen from the hallway. He looks like someone who has just woken up, hair sticking out in the same way that his father’s sometimes does, but it’s accompanied by a concerned expression on his face as he watches the scene in the kitchen, “Why were you fighting?”

“We weren’t fighting,” you reassure and hold out your arm. Lucas goes to press into your side, and you respond to his affection by resting a hand on his head, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Lucas replies but he doesn’t sound convinced. 

From the outside, it probably looks like the perfect family portrait but you can feel Javier is fuming underneath the surface. He leaves Inés’ side to throw the snotty paper towel out, his shoulders still tense.

“Lucas, can you take your sister into the bathroom and brush your teeth?” You say as neutrally as you can muster, faking a smile down at him as he looks up at you, “I’ll be right there.”

“What about breakfast?” He asks.

“I’ll make you a sandwich for the bus ride. Whatever you want, but we’re already late,” you tell him, and it seems to work as he takes Inés’ hand in his own and leads her out of the room.

When Javier and you are alone again, an uncomfortable silence settles between the two of you. Javier stands against the counter, palms flat on its surface and you can hear the sound of the clock in the background, ticking by as the silence stretches. 

You are just about to apologize when Javier turns around. His eyes are wild with fury, not at all as submissive as just moments earlier when you had been the angry one. He points at you, mustache twitching with disgust that you are sure must be directed at himself too, because he says, “Never in front of the kids. I don’t care how angry you are. We don’t do that.”

You can feel your bottom lip tremble. 

Javier leaves the kitchen instead of comforting you. 

You force a smile, trying your hardest to sound cheerful while tears spill down your cheeks, “Lucas, what do you want on your sandwich?” 

*

The rest of the day goes by without any resolve, and it feels like there’s a brick lying heavy on your chest and making you on the verge of tears all day. Despite this, you manage to get everything on today’s list done before dinner and yes, you buy the ingredients for the stupid chocolate cake, making an effort to ‘casually’ leave the recipe on the counter for Javier to see. It results in him emptying and refilling the dishwasher without a word. 

During your bedtime routine, Lucas looks worried. He tugs at your hand when you are just about to leave and you can see the cogs turn in his head as he strings together a sentence, “Mom… It’s okay if you and Dad were angry at each other. I just don’t like it when you cry and… and I want you to say sorry. That’s what you make me do when I get angry at you or Dad. Or Inés.”

Your heart hurts from the love that’s barely able to be contained inside of it. With every single muscle in your body being strained, you manage to bend down to hug his head close to your chest, “Mijo.”

“No, don’t be sad,” he says quickly, hugging you back. 

“I’m not, baby. These are good tears because I love you so much,” you kiss his head, “I’m so proud of being your mom, baby. You know this, right?”

Lucas pulls back and you quickly wipe your tears away. He studies your face for a second, “Y-yes, I love you too, Mom, but you need to say sorry to Dad.”

You nod, struggle a little as you try to get up and say your final goodnight. On the way out, you desperately brush more tears out of your face because looking at the photos in the hallway makes them well up in your eyes once more. 

Javier is tying the strings of his pajama pants as you enter your shared bedroom. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you strip yourself naked except for your underwear, and not even when you pull a tank top over your head that’s barely covering your pregnant belly anymore. You’re unsure of what to say to get a reaction from him. The silence screams. 

“I’m sorry,” you eventually settle for. 

Javier turns to you then. His eyes rest on you for a moment before he speaks, “I’m sorry too. I get it… wanting time to yourself. I just didn’t know that was what you needed.”

He is hugging you soon after, strong arms around your exhausted frame. Your round stomach bumps against his flat one, and he lets go with one arm in favor of resting a hand where Sebastian usually kicks during the evening hours. It’s thankfully quiet right now, as if he senses that you need it.

“I wish you could just see how much invisible work I put into this house,” you say softly into his shoulder, “I feel so underappreciated and overwhelmed sometimes.”

“And I wish you would tell me how you’re feeling instead of treating me like a damn mind reader,” he sighs deeply, and you respond by getting defensive again. You’re just about to pull away with an annoyed groan. 

“No, no, c’mere,” he tugs you back into his arms and you let him because you’re feeling generous. His hands cradle your face, “I don’t wanna fight. Please. I hate fighting with you. I’m sorry.” 

“You make me so furious,” you whine as he bumps your nose with his own, feeling tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and one sliding down to drip from your chin. Javier tuts, catches it with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, baby,” his mouth curls downward as he says it, puppy dog eyes on their highest setting, “I know how much you do. I do. I’m just— you know how I am. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Javier embraces you once more as you blink tears away, dragging in a deep breath. The air in the bedroom smells like him, comforting and safe, and it makes it hard to keep concentrating on your fight and easier to fall into him. 

“I love you,” you mumble into his shoulder, and holy fuck, you do - every single day, hour, minute and second. He is your best friend, your husband, the face of your children, and most importantly, you know that he does his best for you.

It seems that those three words are exactly what he wants to hear because you feel his hands curl around the hem of your tank top. You don’t protest, relishing in the gentle touch of his fingertips against your back as he pulls the piece of clothing up and over your head. 

Your shoulders come down to relax from having been tensed up. You haven’t even noticed how much energy you have been using on straining your muscles, but now that you are calming again, you can feel how upset you’ve actually been throughout the day. 

“I love you too,” he promises. Your heart drums in your chest. The way he says it makes arousal burn below your belly button, a gentle tingling, and swirling sensation pleasantly taking over your whole pelvic floor. 

You look down between the two of you to see that Javier is already half-hard in his pajama pants, words seemingly having had the very same effect on him too. You start untying the strings of his pants slowly until you can tug them down over his hips, and he mirrors you to remove your underwear. 

Both of your bottoms pool around your feet, and when you have both stepped out of them, Javier pulls you close by your elbows. He catches your mouth in a desperate kiss, and you melt into him in a way that an apology could never make him feel. 

He pushes you back towards the bed whilst never breaking the searing kiss. Your hair is a mess in his hands, heartbeat speeding up as everything moves so fast from then on out; he helps you down onto the bed like the gentleman he is, manhandles you onto your side like the man you were swept off your feet by years ago and finally presses his front up against your back.  

“I want you,” you say in unison, and it makes you giggle at how in sync you are with each other despite having spent the day fighting over something already long forgotten. Especially when his arm scoops underneath you to cage you against his chest, hand tightening around your shoulder to hold you in place. 

Javier leans over you slightly to kiss the giggles away, bends your knees a little with his free hand so he can let it wander over you. He touches you up along your thigh as you place a pillow under your pregnant belly, takes his time holding you tightly, “Get hotter and hotter every day, mi amor.”

You press your ass back into his crotch, cunt throbbing with impatience as you hear the tiny groan that he lets out. He is so hard against the roundness of your behind, cocktip leaking steadily against your warm skin when he grinds right back into you. 

“Put it in,” you plead softly. Your hands come up to grip his forearm that is secured just above your tits, “Javi, please. I need it so bad.”

He is silent behind you as he works. The anticipation is unbearable when it is mixed with the unnerving need to have an outlet for all the intense emotions that you have just been through, your pussy quivering in desperation to be deliciously stretched out to transform your feelings into something physical. 

Suddenly, you feel the thick head of his cock between your thighs and you ready yourself for intrusion. Luckily, he doesn’t make you wait, guides himself into you in a slow motion until he is fully sheathed inside you. 

“Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can, nails digging his arm from how hard you are gripping it.

“I know, ahh fuck, shhh,” he soothes but the way his voice sounds makes you believe that he is just as close to losing his mind, “Be quiet, baby. Just let me make you feel fucking amazing. Need a pillow between your knees too?”

You nod, and he is right there with his own pillow to help you get even more comfortable in bed with him. God, why were you even fighting? Something about cake? Either way, it seems beyond ridiculous. 

His nose is in your neck, his hand travels up to cup your breast and then he moves his body for a very first thrust inside of you. It makes your eyes nearly roll back into your skull when he keeps the pace lazy and deep, barely pulling out with each roll of his hips. 

“You feel so good,” he praises whilst mouthing along the most sensitive spot on your neck, “Makes me never wanna leave. Wanna live here.”

“Inside me?” You chuckle breathlessly. 

“Forever,” he gives you a slightly harder thrust, the first where the noise of his skin slapping against yours resonates through the bedroom. You moan in surprise, and he hushes you once more, “Don’t let them wake up and think momma is in pain.”

“Definitely not in pain.”

Javier lets out the quietest laugh. It’s almost unfair how good he is at keeping it down compared to you, but you don’t think you’ll mind having his big palm cover your mouth if you end up causing trouble. It almost happens when he pinches an overly sensitive nipple, making it harden immediately under his touch. 

“Help me spread my legs a little more,” you beg at a low decibel. 

The hand on your tit gropes obscenely and shakes for a moment before it slips down and caresses your belly on the way. Still lying on your side, he smacks the fleshiest part of where your ass and thigh meet before he cups the back of your knee so he can lift.

The move gives you the access you need to rub your cunt, two fingers going in taut little circles around the swollen nub. You rock with him too, and it goes on until you come with your back arched, releasing a short and hot breath that you didn’t notice you had been holding until it turns into a loud and accidental moan. 

“That’s my girl,” he moans too as you clench rhythmically and choke his dick when you release the built-up tension. When your orgasm reaches its peak, Javier’s hand on your shoulder moves to cover your mouth at the fear of you making enough noise to have the door burst open with unwelcome visitors, “I know it’s hard, mi vida, but - shit - but be quiet.”

You take the opportunity to let out a drawn-out and helpless cry into his hand as the sweet pleasure goes on for a few moments more. Then you slump, and he gently moves your leg down again to put less strain on your body. 

“My God,” he talks into your ear, thrusts never slowing down and you swear that you can feel his cock jump with every weak noise you make, “I love you so much. Love your little cunt too, she takes me so well.”

Javier’s hand comes down to grip the extra pounds on your hips. He tugs at the flesh almost painfully, but your exhaustion and dopamine overload are making you too delirious to notice that it’s to the point of bruising. He holds tight and uses the grasp that he has on you to pull you down onto his cock over and over. 

It takes no time to make a second orgasm stir in the pits of your stomach. Your moans change once more as your body starts responding to him fucking you so hard. 

“You think you can come again?” He rasps into your ear, and when the head of his cock slides teasingly over your favorite little spot inside of yourself, you nod frantically and it feels like you are about to cry actual tears. Fuck yes, you can come as many times as he wants. 

“Mhm, won’t take long,” you whimper and use all your willpower to lift your leg over your husband’s thigh until you are spread widely. Your belly is still comfortably supported in the new position, but now that your front is stretched taut and fully exposed like a well-trained and submissive animal, it enhances the feeling of Javier gliding over your g-spot repeatedly.

Javier removes the arm that he has caged you in with, but whereas it gives you a moment to heave a breath of air into the very bottom of your lungs, he quickly takes it away from you as he reaches up with his other hand to grab your throat. He doesn’t squeeze like he normally would when you are not pregnant, but the anticipation of him doing it makes your head swim. 

And then he is absolutely brutal in his thrusts, and before you know it, you are coming with your clit untouched and a strangled sob. The convulsions are so intense that your thighs shake, your toes curl and your eyes screw shut. 

You reach up to put your hand on the back of Javier’s head, holding on tightly as he pounds into you from behind throughout your orgasm. The way he pants tells you that he is close, and when you yank the tiny curls at the nape of his neck, he starts to chase his release. 

“Javi,” you whisper loudly as he slams into your sensitive cunt, “Give it to me. Pleasepleaseplease. Need you to fill me up.”

“Fu— oh shit,” Javier swears in a low, rough growl as he snaps his hips a few last times before stilling inside of you. He feels impossibly big inside your cunt as he pumps you full of his come, cockhead resting at your cervix and coating you in warmth. 

“Jesus, we’re terrible at being quiet,” you whisper as he pants. You let your leg come down onto the other once again, a giggle suddenly building up in your chest. He starts laughing whilst still inside of you, hugging you tightly into his chest and nuzzling his nose into your cheek.

“They sleep through it, don’t gotta worry about it much anymore, I think,” he notes without care, kissing your cheek repeatedly despite still not having calmed his breath. You smile widely as you stare at the ceiling, overtaken by the love you feel for him every time he gets you to post-orgasmic bliss. 

“We need a date night soon though, Jesus. Perhaps Pop could take the kids home with him tomorrow after dinner and I could… do this again,” he smacks your ass playfully, then strokes your hip in soothing circles, and you almost purr like a cat at the gentle move, “Without a mute button on my pretty wife’s mouth, of course.”

“I’d like that,” you say with a soft and sweet sigh, acknowledging his attempt to make things from earlier up to you, “Been a while since you’ve made me scream. Wanna take our time.” 

Javier reaches down between you to pull out before he is completely soft. You hiss at being left empty when you are so spent, but Javier quickly distracts you with another string of kisses to your cheek and the corner of your mouth. He adds to the fantasy, “And then I’ll draw you a bath and you can spend as much time alone as you want. Don’t gotta be no one to anyone.” 

He moves on the bed as far as his arm that’s trapped beneath you allows him, going for the packet of wet wipes you keep on the nightstand. He had suggested them when it had become too hard during your third trimester for you to get out of bed after sex. He hands you a few and you hold them over your mound, enjoying the coolness of them.

“You know the way to my heart,” you say, wiggling a little and feeling his come seep out. It makes your nose crinkle.

“Well, I did convince you to marry me,” he replies. 

“Worst decision I’ve ever made,” you tease. Javier wraps his other arm around you, hand splayed on your belly. 

The position you are in is uncomfortable; Javier’s arm underneath you has got to be asleep by now and you feel damp with sweat due to him being like a furnace against your back.

Still, you both drift off slowly into the soundest sleep. You don’t wake up until two unexpected visitors barge in at the most ungodly hours of the morning, causing you to scramble for the blanket to cover your bodies up and hide the come-stained wet wipes in the nightstand drawer.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[pastafossa]

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024 🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Hello friends! So last month I realized that one of the reasons I'm struggling to get my writing back up to my old speed is I am seriously out of practice since Dec/Jan when shit went down and I stopped writing for a while. After some thought, I decided I was gonna set up a little prompt challenge for myself, just a general, 'here's a prompt a day' thing for about a month. And I tossed this idea out onto my fave Daredevil discord server to see if anyone would want to join. And I'm happy to say there were takers, including some of my favorite writers in the fandom! So I've set up a delicious prompt challenge for all of us, and for anyone else who wants to take part.

For each day in October, there are three prompts: an 🌧️angst/whump prompt🌧️, a 🌻fluff prompt🌻, and a 🔥kink prompt🔥. Participants are free to choose which one of the prompts they want to write or make art of, or they can try to incorporate two, or even all three prompts into a single fic or art piece. They can write a short fic/make art every day, or just on whichever days they feel like (personally I'm going to shoot for one fic a day, but we'll see), or even incorporate those prompts into the chapters of longer fics. There are also four 'backup' prompt options for each category in case anyone hits a day or prompt where they aren't really feeling what's available on the chosen day. If any of these prompts inspire you, you can feel free to take on the Tuna-Tober challenge even if you're not in the server! This challenge is also not fandom-specific (although I have a feeling I'm mostly gonna write Charlie Cox characters, a surprise to precisely zero people, but again, we'll see).

Sometime this week, I'll be setting up a sideblog specifically for Tuna-Tober. That sideblog blog will reblog any Tuna-Tober fics/art or link to those fics that are posted on Ao3 so they'll all be easy to find. That blog will also have instructions for how to tag your Tuna-Tober fics and/or art pieces. If you'd like to be notified when that sideblog is up so you can follow it, let me know in the comments.

Without further ado: our Tuna-Tober prompts!

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia

Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation

Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal

Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation

Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”

Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging

Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship

Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating

Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”

Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation

Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”

Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”

Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags

Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”

Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs

Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys

Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”

Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”

Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk

Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”

Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling

Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints

Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”

Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs

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🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

[blommp717]

i guess you don’t answer anymore but i’m hoping you at least read this because it’s genuine and i feel like i have nowhere else to post this. i just want someone to hear me. ignore this if it’s too long. i want to thank you for your posts. they are the only writings that have truly resonated with me ever since i discovered the law, neville, states, being, whatever we call this thing. but i’ll be honest i’m giving up today. i discovered the ‘law of attraction’ in 2019 when i was 18 years old. it is now getting to the last quarter of 2024 and i am 23 where i’ve evolved in understanding to where i found ‘nondualism’. i went from law of attraction -> law of assumption & neville goddard -> robotic affirming -> mindset fixing & joe dispensa -> states & edward art -> nondualism. however… i have never manifested a single thing in my life. i used to be filled with anxiety when i said this. fearing these words would cause it to keep going on but i don’t even want to fear anymore. it’s just the truth. your posts taught me that i don’t have to fear my words anymore anyways. i’ve had a dream for a long time. i don’t believe i will ever reach this dream anymore. along with that dream i also just really wanted good for my family and i. you know the basics like financial freedom, happiness, mended relationships. but throughout everything i’ve learned i could never make it work and i’m just done. i guess i will return to living a normal life and just hoping i make it. i hope i find happiness or just.. anything. i’m just letting go of it all because i feel like things shouldn’t be this hard. even going to caleb’s channel and watching his recent ‘your manifestation isn’t taking long, you are’ video…. i’m just… exhausted. i just dont know how to do this and i don’t think i can take life anymore anyways. but yeah i just wanted to say thank you. even though i could never find success, you taught me who I Am. and i’ll forever be grateful for your wisdom even though you’re a bit younger than me. i hope you find continued success and live a happy life. sincerely

THIS IS JUST THE FIRST PART TO THE HUGE POST, PLEASE TAKE YOUR TIME

After what felt like months away from tumblr I really dove into self-inquiry fully, and of course still am, and I promised you guys a mega post so here’s the initial information so far. There is more to come.

IM SORRY IF THERE ARE ERRORS IN GRAMMAR OR SMTH I WROTE THIS AT MANY DIFFERENT MOMENTS THROUGHOUT THE DAY!! FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS, ETC BUT PLS DONT ASK BY RESPONDING TO THIS POST, ITLL CAUSE SO MUCH SPAM ON THE FEED AND MY ASKS PAGE

Hello! Yes I have started looking back into my inbox (THERE ALLOT OF ASKS 😭😭🫶) but I absolutely plan on answering as many as possible, and because your post resonated with how I used to feel, I want to answer yours first.

So to begin with, It makes me so happy to know that what I’ve written has some kind of affect (that being positive). I can’t remember if I told you guys how old I was but I must have cus you seem to know 😭😭, yes I’m 19 we’re very close in age, this moment in life is when allot of us who figure out this stuff lean into it more because we realize how much of a leg up we have if we just “apply” the teachings this early on.

So first what I want to say to you is, no, your not giving up on a dream and neither are you going to live a normal life, I’ll make sure of that, this beautiful world that we step into gives us so much insight on what we inherently are. But I need to remind you and everyone else, this is not some big secret that has to be practiced, it’s a look at what we are and always will be. You have purpose and you deserve to be happy and enjoy a life that’s easy and fulfilling. I apologize in advance because this is going to be a pretty long post!! 🫶🫶

Let’s get rid of the labels and titles we’ve given these understandings as if they are for someone to learn and master. No one masters manifestation, no one will ever master manifestation and I truly don’t care for how many “success stories” they have, it doesn’t hold proving value of what they are (notice how I didn’t say who), we are not who’s, but that’s for later in the post.

The reason I’ve stepped away from the concept of manifesting is because it is inherently lack and separation based. No matter the teaching, they all seem to glorify the idea of getting and achieving which puts great pressure on success stories and all that rubbish. (Not me turning British) 😝😝, okay sorry, so yeah this also goes for nondualism, I don’t associate a title with what I learn, it’s not NonDualism it’s actually just self discovery in disguise of a teaching. But for this exact reason I don’t think to myself “I need to learn NonDualism better”, nononooooo I made this mistake wayyy to much due to the sole fact that I came in with the expectation that this would now teach me the secrets of manifesting. This is kind of the set up to more desire and lack, which is actually the opposite of the self-realization “journey”.

So, when you say you have never manifested anything in your life, I say this with incredible pleasure, that this is impossible, I know I know, before you start thinking to yourself that youve heard this before but I don’t think people go that in depth as to what that even means. So, your life and your problems, are not actually problems.

Self-realization is not the journey for the person to become consciousness, but to understand that you ARE consciousness to begin with. You does no reference a someone, but “ “.

This is going to be, quite a post so PLEASE hang in there. And I just want to add in, this is still not a seperate being trying to understand that it’s connected to conciousness, no, you as conciousness, infinite knowing, are so involved with the content that you appear as, you’ve tricked yourself into thinking that you are just 1 thing of the content. Let me use my first example.

We have given ourselves the greatest interpretation and key to knowing ourself, and that’s dreaming.

Every night, we sleep, HOORRAAYYYY, now let’s get into the details because this is where the magic happens and it clicks.

Take the moment before a dream appears, recognize that when the eyes are closed there’s this presence. Not the darkness, the presence. Something, but not a thing.

Stay here and forget the rest of the world exists for a moment. Now there is only this presence, it’s knowing, it’s being right? Now there’s no actual material but regardless, it is, something. This isn’t something out of this world it’s literally, you. From this, knowing or no-thingness, comes expressions, absolutely infinite potential, this is registered as a dream, but, before the dream in any way can be experienced, there always has to be some type of interpreter/lens, this comes in the form a person or better yet, senses. Of course, there’s nothing to the senses or the person but whatever it’s formulated from, which was that presence/knowing. The activity of this infinite potential that is the knowing, (you asleep) appears, only with the help of a pov/sight.

Nonetheless, it plays out, it plays stories of absolutely anything, for no reason at all, and as it does, we get lost to it, it starts to become real, and without even realizing it, it’s no longer a dream but something we’re experiencing, now you are the character in the dream and you naturally play out the dialogue and storyline and explore the fields, magic towers, and laugh and dance and make friends, and then you wake up.

When you wake up, you recognize “oh, nothing was actually happening”, now of course, when your the person in the dream it is very real, but even then, is it? Knowing what you know, there wasn’t actually a place with dialogue, no character of its own experience or life, no actual forests or fields and magic, no one actually laughing and dancing or friends, but simply the appearance of that. The illusion.

And it’s not that it’s only a formulation of you when you realize it is, but it always is, the dream doesn’t only become an illusion or “fake” when you wake up, it’s naturally just fake, REGARDLESS of how it seems to be. And regardless we sleep every night knowing that we’ll forget it’s a dream.

So I think you can see where I’m headed with this, I’m going to use the example Rupert Spira uses but twist it a bit.

You go to sleep in Australia and dream yourself in the streets of Paris, and you take on the identity of John, you don’t actually become John and experience the streets of Paris.

Now, John drinks coffee and he feels the sunlight warm his skin, sees the greenery, feels the wind, all of it. But despite the way it all seems the sunlight, the sensations that John has, is not actually real, and neither is John. John isn’t actually feeling anything, he doesn’t exist and there is no Paris being traveled. And it’s not John that realizes/awakens to the understanding that he’s fake and this is all a dream, it’s you, asleep in Australia that realizes it as you modulate/formulate as the streets of Paris, the coffee, and the greenery, and John, understand?

The activity of that presence, if you recall when we talked about closing your eyes, formulated as something that seemed so real, and that doesn’t give any reality to the dream itself, because there is no separating the knowing from the content known. Without the “space” for it to appear or form from, how on earth would there be the content? A bigger step forward is to realize that there isn’t even an actual dream occurring but it’s all the self knowing presence of, well, knowing. I want to add something very important before moving on.

Knowing does not happen for the purpose of pleasure, we naturally deconstruct false ideas like this as we go, but something you MUST understand about the nature of existence is, none of this is appearing for the purpose of ant experience, there isn’t actually an experience. No one is enjoying nor hating the illusion, it is simply an appearance.

In the same way that the aware/presence before the dream appears from it simply is, in this way, we are. It’s like saying the TV screen plays a movie and experiences it, or does it for the purpose of experience, no that’s silly, knowing has no inherent motive, it is, you (infinite knowing) don’t “happen” for a purpose, never mind happen at all, you are, and in this do you take form of something, your self aware nature of course knows the content of your own being, but that doesn’t mean the illusion can enjoy itself, or that you enjoy or experience the illusion, it’s just a plain appearance, and that’s it.

For example, when you close your eyes on this next demonstration, truly try to grasp the essence of what I’m trying to explain.

Bring from the nothingness/knowing when you close your eyes, a blue vase, know it in every aspect you can, incorporate every sense you can (even taste if your a little freaky 🫦🫦😭) and make it as present as possible. After you open your eyes I have a question for you. (I’m serious, do the damn practice it’ll help you) please take as much time you need to truly get in there (not too long I can’t wait all day)

okay hey, your back, now answer me this, from what did this immersive appearance take reality from? You and I know that there’s no actual vase despite its presence, no matter the vibrant or dull colors, no matter the feel, rough or glossy, its taste 🫦😭, its feel, etc. So what was the substance that formulated this? If you guessed knowing, your soooooo correct, if you didn’t it’s okay you get brownie points 🫶. But yes, now I need you to understand this verrrry clearly, the vase was not real!!!! Yet it appeared that way! This is AN ILLUSION SURPIRISISIEIEIEIEIEIEISISBWHH- yes. No matter how much you want to convince yourself and go back to the vase and its appearance and its feel or colors or any aspect of it, it wasn’t ACTUALLY happening and that means it didn’t take place for anyone or anywhere!!! All there was present was knowing, from knowing forms vase and every seemingly alternate way that it is known, feeling is a form of knowing, literally every sense is just a form of knowing. Every sense that was “used” to understand the vase was all just aspects and appearances of knowing, the color, the sounds, the taste, the feels, they didn’t formulate anywhere else, but nonetheless appeared as immersive and real because YOU BECAME FOCUSED ON THE CONTENT OF THE APPEARANCE RATHER THAN RECOGNIZE THAT IT WAS JUST APPEARANCE. And even though the content of the appearance you formed as became the focus, it still didn’t change the objective fact that there wasn’t someone actually there and experiencing it in any way.

The knowing in/on which appearances formulate is not something different than the appearance, there is nothing to the illusion but its reality, and its reality is knowing. In this way, the illusion couldn’t even be described as something real or taking place, as if it could exist apart from the source of it.

Knowing this is also knowing there is no such thing as the knowing OF, we never know of things or of experiences as if they are something seperate and exist seperatley from knowing itself, that’s literally impossible. Moving forward

You are not the person/character, and it’s not that you are a limited being and you have to wake up to the idea that you are infinite knowing, you have to realize that you were never something seperate, and that this is simply the modulation of your being, and it’s not a someone it’s more of a something.

Let’s starts stabilizing this.

To all of the experiences across centuries, theres one constant amongst the billions of people who’ve lived and are now and that is, I Am. We might not know for certain about anything else ever in this entire universe, and we might not even know who or what we are but for a fact we can say, yes, I am.

There’s no true word that can describe the infinite essence of being, so we use knowing or conciousness or god, all completely the same.

So, to every experience, without an ounce of doubt, there can be the claim, I am. This is knowing, and only from knowing comes the statement, because we must know we are in order to claim that we are. I think something that can capture this is a newborn, imagine yourself to be newly born, mere seconds I mean, eyes closed. You have no understand of anything, no thoughts, no memories, no identity, your pure experience is simply being/knowing, and I don’t mean the action of knowing, that’s not a real thing. Knowing is inherent, you don’t force it.

Going back to experiences. Any experience that is recognized, any seeing, and hearing, tasting touching, and of course feeling, is assumed to be the experience of the body and this is therefore falsely established as “me”, in doing so, we forget our true nature of freedom and limit our understanding and abilities to the limitations of the body.

I’m now going to help you realize the body is an interpreter, and not of a world that’s happening somewhere in time and space, but that the world is the interpretation/modulation/illusion/dream/appearance of our shared infinite being, AFTER being recognized through the interpretations, (sensations and perceptions). This also means that it’s in no way an actual measurement to what you fully are.

What experience is there to seeing? Better yet let me narrow it down, there is nothing to seeing as if there is someone doing the seeing. Seeing simply is. There’s no one to do it, just what is. There is sight, how is there an acknowledgment of the sight/seeing? There must be something to it that gives the understanding “oh I’m seeing this”. (Hint, it’s the same thing that let you know, that “I Am”). Knowing, yes, not knowing as an action, that’s not real, people don’t know, knowing is the essence of what we are (we are not people). But just wait for that. So all there is to sight is knowing, and I don’t think I have to do this but you can say the same about absolutely every other sense, because every single “experience” absolutely requires knowing. Without knowing, “experience” never is, I think we can all acknowledge that.

There is no such thing as the experience of being a human, Why are we deciding that this is what’s it’s like to be humans, we know humans we acknowledge humans but there is no such thing as being a human, in the same way that there’s no true way that there is something to being a fox or a bird or a rock, it’s only with labels are these ideas decided.

The only thing you’ll be able to muster up is memories, emotions, etc, but that doesn’t make it the inherent experience of being a human. Our first and only experience of what we are is knowing, and then knowing that we are, that’s it. In the same way that a babies first experience is not “I am a baby” or “I am a human”, rather it’s just knowing. If being human was our nature, that’s all we’d recognize, and from the very beginning. Our experience does not actually change from being/knowing, we simply forget that there is the knowing, and decide to focus on the body to be “me” or “human”.

You don’t need senses to know you are. Knowing is something unimaginable. Go ahead and try to find it by closing your eyes or even with them open. Can you grab or touch the knowing. Can you recognize its dimensions or what its appearance is? How old or young is it?

Do me a favor and find the edge where knowing starts and stops.

Let me know when you find it because you never will.

Even when you try, it’s only conciousness itself that searches for its own parameters.

By recognizing that your truly not the body, or this person you as knowing have pretended to become, the made up problems of the person disappear, well actually, you realize that there is no person that has problems, only an idea. Only the idea that I am someone and something is happening to me, I am something seperate and need saving. There isn’t actually a seperate self, the seperate self is the activity that you as knowing are, when you become involved with the content and forget your true nature. And what’s truly the main takeaway from this is that, even when it seems like you’ve lost it and now you have to restart and understand it all over again, you as knowing haven’t gone anywhere, your the one pretending to be something lost, and not on purpose, but because you involve yourself too heavily in the appearances without recognizing where they originate from.

From what we know so far, I hope in some way you’re able to recognize that there is no one doing manifestations and having success stories. You ARE the manifestation and it will NEVER be any other way, whether we recognize it or not, that’s the beauty. So no matter if we go on about this appearance of life and say we don’t get it and move on, you as conciousness will continue to play the roles, because there is no off switch to this.

I’m hope this has been able to start untying the blinds over your “eyes” and you’re starting to somewhat understand the truth of what you/we are. This is only the beginning and it’s only going to get more incredible and beautiful from here. But for now I’m shleeepy hehehe, I’ll talk to you soon, never ever give up on your dreams!!!! 🫶❤️❤️

[nctsplug02]

Husband mark fucking his pregnant wife plss

[11:31PM]

GENRE: father mark, fluff and smut!

WARNINGS: dilf!mark, pregnant milf!reader, kissing, breast play, breeding, praising, dirty talking, spanking, shower sex, and just pure fluff!

AN| happy (late) father’s day! i know, i know. i’m late to this post BUT, you know me, im late to/with everything! anywho, i want to say thank both my daddies. my dad dad and my bf daddy. ANYWHO! happy father’s day to my dad who lives miles and miles away from me, i love you dearly and wish you the best without having the best daughter in the world next to you. and to my daddy who’s next to me in bed (resting after having good pussy), i love you too.

the door unlocks and you try your best to quickly scramble up from the couch with your pint of ice cream in one hand and a fork in the other.

you hear a deep sigh and a bag being dropped on the ground.

at last, you’re able to lift yourself off the couch and onto your feet.

being seven months pregnant with a big belly was a struggle.

“mark, hunnie?” you call out and walk over to the front door space. “mark— oh, jesus christ!” you jump when mark jumpscares you.

“shit— baby, you scared me— oh, my god. i’m so sorry, baby.” marks hands land on your lower back and the side of your belly.

you sigh and attempt to wrap your arms around mark but your belly keeps you two at a distance. mark giggles at your cuteness and pulls you in front of him, putting his arms above your belly and dipping his chin on your shoulder.

“i’m sorry, hunnie.” you rub his arms and rock side to side. “no, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to scare my pregnant wife— just didn’t expect us to go separate paths.” he laughs.

“it’s alright— anyways, how was work?” mark groans and drops his head back before dropping his forehead on the back of your head.

mark sighs, “i’m so pissed. it’s father’s day and they wouldn’t allow me to go home early so i could spend time with you and jae-mi. they said they’d let us leave early because they knew we had plans for father’s day but still were planning to keep us until midnight until taeyong spoke up and they finally just let us leave.”

you frown, “aw, i’m sorry, baby. i’m sorry you are under such a shitty company who doesn’t care about you. and, i’m glad taeyong spoke up. i genuinely was gonna be a karen tonight and march on over to your practice room and complain about you not being home and missing out father’s day— jae-mi was really upset that you weren’t coming home. every hour that went by, she asked and asked if you were coming home yet. it was so disappointing to tell her that you weren’t just yet.”

“not a karen,” mark laughs. “just a loving, worried, moody wife who cares about her husbands well being under my shitty company who doesn’t care about me at all.”

“but, what did you and jae-mi do for father’s day while i was out on schedules?” you smile and bite on his hand crossed in front of you. “we just baked a bit for you, y’know— made some strawberry shortcake cupcakes and brownies.”

“uhhh,” you jump and mark pauses. “let’s go to the kitchen and i’ll let you know else we did.”

you continue to tell mark about what you and your five year old did without mark while walking over to the kitchen.

“woah— woah! what the— woah!” mark gasps and lets go of you. “dude— what! yo, this is sick!” mark jumps excitedly as he sees the frosted (and topped off with cut up strawberries) cupcakes and powered brownies.

you laugh at how mark went from being pissed to being so hyper from seeing sweets.

“wait, that isn’t even the best part. look,” you go around the island and grab the drying white paper from the fridge. “look, look!” you hold up the paper and mark squeals.

“who made this?” mark says, grabbing the paper from you. “this is an absolute masterpiece, what the!” mark says, admiring the art piece.

you tuck your hands behind your back and tilt your head. “jae-mi made it for you. she said she wanted to make something for you that you’d like and.. she made.. a heart with the letter ‘M’ in it.”

“oh, right! she made more for you, look.” you grab the other pieces of paper from the dining table and you pass them to mark.

“aww, this is sick. where’s my little girl?” mark says looking through the art works.

one was a glitter-glued-on-written sign that said, happy father’s day to the best daddy, in blue glitter.

another said, #1 daddy, in pink glitter.

“your little girl is sound asleep in her bed.” mark evens the papers and sets them on the island. “well, i’ll tell her tomorrow morning that her art pieces for me were beautiful.”

“wow, those are really messy.” mark says looking down at his now glitter covered hands.

you giggle and nod. “you should’ve seen mine earlier— jae-mi and i had to take two showers.”

mark grabs you by the shoulder and slams your back onto his chest, wrapping his heavy arms around your shoulder. “now, what did mommy make for me?”

you laugh and shake your head. “mommy helped your little girl make you these nummy desserts.” you push out of his hold and you grab a cupcake from the tray, peeling away the cupcake liner and taking a big bite into the cupcake.

“mmm,” you moan, chewing and then licking your top lip to get the extra whipped cream. “hm, try it.” you hold the cupcake in front of marks mouth and mark licks his lips, leaning forward and then taking a bigger bite.

“holy shit— mm, that’s so good. oh my god.” mark moans and nods, jumping around while holding his crotch and shaking his head.

you laugh and continue to eat the cupcake until all that’s left is the liner.

“alright, baby. let’s go take a shower, yeah?” you whine and shake your head. “this’ll be my third shower of the day— i’m so tired of taking showers.”

you lean your chin on marks chest and you shut your eyes. mark mocks your whine and places his chin on your head.

“but, i’m stinky, baby. i’m all sticky and sweaty.” you push off mark and he interlaces hands with you. “then shower by yourself.” you say with sass and mark laughs. “but, i wanna shower with you.”

you tsk, “fine. but, you have to carry me to the bathroom. now, hurry, let’s go before i change my mind.”

mark quickly yanks his hands from yours and lifts you off your feet by carrying you bridal style. “mark!” you laugh unstably as mark bounces while running up to the bathroom.

“are you crazy?!” you laugh as mark kicks the bathroom door open and sits you on the counter. “what, you said to hurry up before you changed your mind, no?”

he was right, so you couldn’t be mad.

“just, tsk— start the shower will’ya!” you make an angry face and mark laughs.

mark walks over to the shower and turns on the shower, in an instant, hot water squirts out the shower head.

“get undressed, baby.” mark says, walking over to the closet next to the shower and pulling out clean towels.

“mm, why don’t you undress me yourself?” mark stops in his tracks and looks up at you, trying his best to hide the shy smirk.

you place both hands on either sides of your legs and you smirk. “i said why don’t you undress me yourse—?” you gasp as mark drops the neatly folded towels and jogs over to you, quickly grabbing at your oversized shirt that was honestly his from his side of the closet.

mark tosses the shirt behind him and goes for your loose jamies. he undoes the knot and tugs them off with needy grunts.

“mark,” you giggle while being tossed around on your ass. “don’t forget about yourself, you dummy.” mark nods.

marks pupils grow when seeing your huge breasts— thanks for your pregnancy that bumped you from a C cup to a double D cup.

his hands shake as they go to undo your bra. “geez, when did they get this big.” mark says as the push-up bra releases your mochi like breasts.

“they’ve been growing ever since my third month.” you say with creased eyes and an innocent grin as mark massages them in his hands.

“mark, stop,” you giggle as he tweaks your nipples. “you can do that in the shower but i’m getting cold and i can just feel the hot steam from the shower.”

“alright, alright.” mark frowns as he forces himself to pull away from your breasts and helps you down from the counter.

mark walks with you to the running shower after pulling off your panties and you turn around and you stop him.

“what?” he looks down at you.

“you’re still fully clothed, hunnie.” you point out while softly laughing.

mark looks down and laughs along with you. “i forgot,” he rubs his nape and sighs. “wanna undress me?” you tilt your head and sigh. “you’re a big boy, aren’t you?” you see the disappointment in marks eyes and you laugh even more.

“kidding, i’d love to, markie.” you pat his head when seeing him melt.

you pull up his shirt and you purposely run your hand down his toned abs just to make him flex for you. “you’re a cutie, markie.” you tap the tip of his nose and in a reflex for that, he scrunches his nose up.

you finish off by going on your knees and pulling down his sweats and his boxers all together.

“oh,” your eyes slightly cross when marks semi-hard cock bobs in your face. “markie,” you say in a teasing tone. “is this for me?” mark sticks the tip of his tongue out and scrunches up his face in embarrassment.

“let’s continue in the shower?” you ask and mark quickly nods.

mark helps you up off your knees and follows you into the shower like a lost pup.

you turn and give mark a kiss under the pouring showering which quickly leads to a hot and heated makeout sesh. “m—mark,” you attempt to call for him in the middle of the kiss but mark doesn’t stop, he’s addicted.

you somehow manage to pull away from marks needy kisses and you burst into a fit of laughter when seeing how swollen and red his lips are.

“geez, you needy needy man!” mark touches his lips and suddenly turns all red when feeling the swollen-ness.

“i just— it feels like i haven’t kissed you for so long, y/n.” you laugh, holding his forearms. “we kissed this morning before you went off to schedules.”

“not like that, we didn’t.”

“uh, yes we did. don’t tell me you don’t remember our quickie this morning.” mark takes a moment and then finally it clicks. “oooohhhh, right. dude, i totally forgot, i’m sorry.”

you shake your head while rolling your eyes. “whatever, just hurry up and fuck me.”

mark turns you and bends you perfectly so your hands can grasp the tiled walls. “don’t tell me what to do.” mark spanks you and you cry out.

“don’t be so harsh—!” mark spanks you once more. “i said don’t tell me what to do.” you look back when feeling his tip poke at your entrance.

“then don’t be so harsh— and stop teasing me, will’ya— nghh!” you moan when feeling mark ease into you.

“oh, fuck.” mark says, pinching your hip with one hand and using the other hand to hold himself up from leaning all his weight on you.

“baby,” mark groans. “you feel so good, baby. oh, my god.”

his pulsing cock pushes past your gummy walls and continues that many times. “mark,” your cheek pressed against the tiles and your hands laid flat against the tiles.

“harder, markie.” you grunt, grabbing his wrists from behind and crying out when mark starts ramming into your cunt.

“oh, mark!” you wail, moving yourself up onto your tip-toes.

marks face scrunches in pleasure as he feels you clench around him.

your hand reaches down and you begin to rub your nub that’d cried for attention. “f—fuck, i’m gonna cum soon. i’m s—so close.” you pant, rubbing quick circles on your clit and moaning like a wild animal.

you and mark both let out groans when feeling you squirt, the liquid runs down your hand and down marks cock.

“god— mark, i’m cumming.” you cry out to mark who continues to plow into you. “god, i’m cumming.” you whisper.

your knees wobble and buckle as your orgasm hits you. mark quickly holds under your belly and catches you, making sure he gives nice and slow thrusts while holding you up.

“cum, mark. i wanna feel your cum dripping out of my pussy.” you whisper to mark, slowly recovering from your orgasm.

“you want me to cum in your pussy? your pregnant pussy?” you nod, whining at how much more turned on you got just from hearing mark dirty talk to you.

mark does as you pleaded for and cums into your cunt.

his sloppy thrusts come to a halt and he stays balls deep in your cunt. marks cum dripping past his dick and falling straight on the tiled ground, it washes away from the powerful impact of the hot water being sprayed out the shower head.

“geez— i need to sit down.” you pant when mark pulls out of you— slowly.

mark lowers himself to the floor and sits you on his lap. “i love you, you know that, right?” mark chuckles. “of course i do. y’know that i love you too, right?” you nod tiredly. “to the moon and back?” you nod, again.

silence fills up the bathroom.

“so,” you start. “round two?”

“i’ll meet you in the bedroom in ten.” mark says, pushing you back onto your feet.

you leave the bathroom with a purple towel around you and you wait for mark.

ten minutes was too long and by the time mark was finished with his shower, you were sound asleep on his side of the bed with the towel still wrapped around your body.

[promise-you-doie]

Like a Butterfly | P. Wonbin

Summary: Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing, how lucky of you to have found it twice. Pairings: Shotaro x Reader Wonbin x Reader words: 15k Genre: kind of a love triangle, fluff, angst. Warnings: mild cursing, suggestive. that's all. :)

Poetry has been around since the beginning of time. It knew many forms and emotions. You loved it because it had no rules, no restrictions. anything could be poetry. That was the beauty of art.

If you had a Time Machine you would teleport back to the time when life was simpler. You didn’t have the stress of school, the weight of peoples opinions or the inconvenience of being somewhat an adult.

Luckily you didn’t need a Time Machine, you had Wonbin. Having his arms wrapped around you was your form of escapism.

His fingers intertwined in yours and you feel yourself chasing all the heat his body has to offer as you push yourself as close as physics would allow you to. You love him, you’re sure of it.

You love the beautiful melody of his voice, the lovely shapes in his face. The brightness of his smile, the softness of his hands. and sometimes you think you love the way he loves you, but he doesn’t. That’s the issue.

You often find yourself daydreaming of an alternate universe in which he cared for you the way you care for him. It wouldn’t be too different from the one you’re in now. Only difference is you wouldn’t have to hide with him.

The two of you could love each other aloud, you could kiss him in front of your friends. Hold hands during the day.

But those were just daydreams. This is reality, and In your reality you were sitting on the opposite side of the food court watching Wonbin smile and giggle with a girl who wasn’t you.

Over time you’d gotten better at keeping your emotions tamed.

“Girl? You got beef with the broccoli?”

Well… you were still working on it.

“It's just not-“ you stab the broccoli a few more times before you give up and just throw the fork down.

“Is something bothering you?” Shotaro asks softly. Hearing his voice only eases you down. You could never be upset around him, not when he’s giving you a look like he’ll do anything on the planet to make sure your smile never fades.

It wasn’t just his eyes that were telling you that, it was everything about him. It’s just how he was.

“I’m just so stressed with midterms coming up. I can’t fail, my parents will kill me.” You partly lie.

“Want me to come over later, we can study together. I’ll make sure to get the cherry ice cream that you really like.”

His suggestion is enough to erase whatever distress you were feeling.

“Thank you taro.” You smile at him

“Oh you two are so cute. Just date already.” Giselle laughs watching the two of you interact with each other.

You wished it were that simple, you would just be happy with Shotaro like everyone expected you to. But the only dilemma to this obvious solution, was that you only kinda liked shotaro. But you really like Wonbin.

As if he could hear your thoughts, the devil with a sly smile walks over to your table stirring up your emotions once again. Smirking as if he knows how upset he’s made you talking to that girl.

“What’s going on over here?”

“Nothing that concerns you?” Winter dismisses him.

You try to ignore him but you can’t help but feel his gaze burning into you like the rays of the sun. Usually you loved it, but right now his intense contact made you wanna crawl up into a ball and vanish.

“Who’s the girl you were flirting with?” Ningning asks

“He probably doesn’t even know her name? It’s a new girl everyday with him.” Karina adds

Hearing it all made you want to throw up, but you keep your calm. Simply picking at the food on your plate trying to tune out the conversation that's happening right before you.

You’re so immersed in your food that you don’t even notice that everyone’s stopped talking and is watching you brutally stab at the chicken.

“Oh that poor chicken.” Ningning whispers.

After a few short seconds you break out of your own bubble and look up at your group of friends, quickly taking notice of horror on each of their faces.

“Sorry, I gotta use the bathroom.” You say dismissing yourself from the table.

“Damn, if she’s this scared for midterms. There’s no hope for the rest of us.” Sohee deadpans

“To be fair, there was never any hope for you.” Winter snickers.

The table breaks off into a new conversation, completely missing when Wonbin sneaks off after you.

“Where are you heading off to?” You hear Wonbin in some distance behind you.

“Class.”

Within a split second his hand is on your wrist pulling you back towards him until you’re face to chest.

“We have some time.”

“I’ve gotta get to class, Wonbin.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just-“

“You know i know better”

You couldn’t tell him the real truth. That it bothered you seeing him with someone else. That you were jealous but you had no right to be because the two of you weren’t even dating.

“It’s just a lot right now.”

“You usually come to me about these kinds of things.” He says softly and it makes you melt, almost as much as his subtle touch to your cheek.

“I've just been a little too busy lately.”

“Then I’ll just come over tonight, we can talk all you want.”

The offer was tempting. The only thing that could fix you was laying for hours in his arms and talking until you mumbled yourself to sleep just as you always do.

“Can’t. I’m studying with shotaro tonight.”

“Then I’ll just stop by afterwards.”

“I’m gonna be late for class.”

“I’ll see you later?”

“Goodbye, Wonbin.”

Laughter echoed throughout the living room where you and shotaro remained. Textbooks, notebooks, pens and snacks took up the space between the both of you. Keeping the mood light and easy.

“Okay let’s see…” you pause for a moment to search for a question you were sure he wasn’t gonna get.

“What is the term used to describe a process that is both catabolic and anabolic?”

“Amphibolic.”

“No fair, you cheated.”

“No i didn’t.”

“Did too!”

“Did not.”

In the middle of your childish bickering you hear your phone ding. Your first instinct was only to ignore it, and switch your phone off. But you quickly get a change of heart when you see that Wonbin is the reason for the notification.

Wonbin <3: still studying?

Wonbin <3: I miss you

Wonbin <3: Can’t stop thinking about you

Each message sends a new wave of butterflies, it’s almost sickening how you allowed him to have this effect on you.

You: I’m trying to focus

Wonbin <3: I’m sorry baby, continue studying.

“Sorry, Karina’s nagging me about her new shoes.” You made up.

“Actually it’s getting pretty late, do you wanna call it a night?” He asks as he’s already closing the books, knowing what your answer is gonna be before you get a chance to say anything.

“Um. Yeah, we can continue another time. I’m getting pretty tired.”

“So I’ll see you in class.”

“Of course. Drive safely. Text me when you get home.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, shotaro.” You smile warmly at him and it lingers for a few seconds before he finally leaves. You can’t help but hold your smile even after you close the door to your apartment and reach to clean up the small mess on your floor. It’s only a few books, highlighters and a set of keys that you assumed were yours at first but after picking them up you quickly noticed they weren’t.

Just as soon as you come to the conclusion of who the keys could belong to you hear a knock at the door.

“I picked them up as so-“ your eyes widen the moment you notice that it’s not shotaro but Wonbin standing on the other side of your doorway. Within two seconds you pull him in and check the hallway to make sure that no one saw him coming to your apartment at 11 pm at night.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, shout, as if people can hear you through the walls.

“I wanted to see you.”

“What if he saw you?” And the moment the words leave your mouth there’s another knock at the door. You only have five seconds to think and in those five seconds you push Wonbin out of view and breathe before you open the door.

“I left my keys.”

“Yeah, I picked them up just a few seconds ago.”

“I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to come with me to the fall festival tomorrow.”

You fix your lips and you’re about to accept his invitation when you hear a loud noise coming from Wonbins direction.

“Did something fall?”

“No yeah it’s just a painting I’ve been trying to keep up. But it keeps falling.”

“Do you need help with it?”

“Uh no i think i might just return it, but yes i definitely want to join you tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think it’ll be fun.”

“Good, so uh I’ll just text you when I get home.”

“Drive safe, good night.”

“Goodnight.”

The second you close and lock the door you’re scolding Wonbin yet again.

“Are you trying to get us caught?”

“It just fell.”

“Oh just fell my ass.” You yell at him but you can’t remain serious when he’s looking down at you with his dark Diamond eyes. Or when he gives you that smile that you absolutely hate (love).

“I’ll be more careful next time.” he smirks.

You wanna scold him about there not being a “next time” but there’s only so much you can say when your lips are occupied with his own.

His hands are tugging and your waist to pull you closer to him and naturally your hands wrap around his forearms. Your conscience is telling you this is wrong and you need to end whatever it is that the two of you have going on. But your heart completely disagrees as you’re pulling him even closer to you like he’s gonna disappear under your grasp.

You find yourself in this position too often. You wished you could say you hated it, but that’s just not the case. It’s almost sickening how weak you are for him. All he had to do was say your name and you’d fold for him time and time again.

His fingers are twirling around in your hair, your legs are horizontally crossing his and cheeks are pressed against his chest. By now your eyes are getting heavier and heavier, and the warmth of his body doesn’t aid in your sleepiness. Nor does the way his chest vibrates every time he speaks, and especially not when his voice is soft and soothing.

“What got you upset this morning?” He circles the question back around after hours. You don’t wanna remember the way she smiled at him or the way she brushed her hand against his arm. And you especially don’t wanna have to tell him about your frustrations so you sum it up to. “Just something the girls and I were talking about.” Hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions about the matter.

Eventually you shift your body so you can just lay over top of him, and comfortably fall asleep on his chest. The rhythm of his beating heart and the way his body rises with each breath he takes is more than enough to have you drifting to sleep once again and when you’re hanging on to a single thread of energy he kisses atop your head and whispers for you to sleep well.

“Are you here by yourself?” That’s the single question that landed you here in the first place.

You’re sitting alone in an almost empty library. There’s just you, a few other students and the librarian. It’s quiet, that’s why you loved it. perfect place to go and get set on all of your academics or just escape from the noises of everyday life.

You’re so interested in your book that you fail to notice Wonbin walk in, and immediately gravitate over to you.

It’s not until he speaks that you lift your head from the contents of your novel to meet his eyes, and a pretty smile to match.

“Are you here by yourself?” He asks

“Yeah, I just needed to clear my head.”

From there is when you both begin a conversation, you realize that he’s easy to talk to. The conversation just flows like the crystal clear water of a river. You talk enough to have just wasted 3 hours of what was supposed to be alone time. But you feel as if you’d rather have spent time talking to him than doing anything else.

Overtime he becomes the person you can go to just to talk. Talk about any and everything, but somehow conversations led to prolonged kisses and touching each other in ways you wouldn’t want from anyone else.

“I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Really, never?”

“I mean well, I kissed this guy in freshman year of highschool. but it was so weird I don't even wanna think about it.”

you stopped talking when you noticed him watching your lips. For a good few seconds neither of you said anything. The only noise to fill the air was the background noise of the T.V.

“First kisses are usually always awkward, mine was.”

you gasp a little when his focus shifts from your lips back to your eyes.

“yeah, I guess so.”

“So I'm guessing you haven’t dated anyone?”

“no, not yet.”

“How come?”

“I just don’t have the time, not with school and stuff.”

“but you have time to talk to me.”

“That's because I like talking to you.”

“you do?”

with each sentence that leaves his mouth you hear the tone of his voice get softer and softer. you couldn’t remember when it started, when you started liking him. or when just the sound of his voice became so intoxicating to you, but what you did know was that there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

so when he gently slipped his hand under your jaw and hooked around the side of your face, and kept eye contact with you as he got closer and closer until you felt his breath brush upon your lips. you only closed your eyes, you didn’t have the willpower to fight him off and even if you did. you wouldn’t want to.

because your second kiss was way better than your first, it was unclear why though. was it the quality of the kiss, or was it the person you shared the kiss with? you were unsure, and as much as you wanted to find out. you couldn’t, it couldn’t happen. not again.

being with wonbin broke so many of the friendship rules and you knew that. which is why you never told your friends and you never kissed him again.

however the conversations never stopped, talking to him was how you managed through busy weeks and frustrating assignments. you were too busy for leisure time, let alone relationships. so how did you make time for him? how did you manage time to sneak around with him?

“you just take this 4 and multiply it by the 7 down here.” you ask

when you look up is when you finally notice how close he was. you stop breathing for a few seconds looking down to see that if you moved just a few inches you’d be touching his fluffy pretty lips.

but you blink out of your fantasy, you’d already made it clear that what happened before, can’t happen again.

“are you keeping up?”

“no i think i got lost, could you run it over one more time.” he’s just barely whispering now, and staring at your lips.

“yeah, umm you just…”

before you could explain anything he moves the hair from covering your face, using only his index finger to push it over your shoulder so he could see you a little more clearly.

“wonbin…” you whine lowly and it causes him to laugh in a way that gives you butterflies.

“yeah?” he asks innocently.

it’s his smile, it’s his smile that makes your heart beat outside of your chest. it’s his smile that makes you act the way you do. it’s his smile that posses you to kiss him back when he lays his lips on yours.

“We can't take this any further.” you say once you push him off of you

“okay.” his lips are agreeing but his hands aren’t obeying. sliding past the skin of your thigh in a way that makes you dizzy.

“I won't do anything you don’t want me to.”

“it’s not that i don’t want to…”

“then tell me what it is?”

“you can’t flirt your way out of this assignment.” the words come out in a whisper as you take his larger hands into your own, to stop him from sliding up and down your leg.

the rest of the evening went smoothly. only small touches here and there. but nothing that you felt like would jeopardize the friendship. but when he leaves and you fall back on your bed all you think about is how perfect his lips felt on yours or how electrifying his hands felt on your skin.

you know that the friendship is beyond jeopardized by now. you don't know when the damage began, if it was when you shared the first kiss? or if it was when you rolled off your bed to answer the door after wonbin had left, only to find that he was back. and he was thinking about you just how you were thinking about him.

“Why are you still here?” you question but he doesn’t answer. He walks in the more you back up until he’s far enough to close the door behind him.

“Can I kiss you?”

“no.” you wish you had the strength to say that. no, more like you wished you could say that and actually mean it. but he stands over you looking down at you in a way that makes you forget everything else.

“please.”

What started as a kiss ended as the two of you wrapped in your sheets.

you shielded your face in his neck from all of the embarrassment you felt, knowing that it was far too late to just stay “friends”.

“We can't tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t say a thing.”

he agrees as he lays a sweet kiss on the side of your head.

you thought that this was the lowest you could go. having sex with him and lying to your friends. but you found a way to go lower, you fell in love.

you fell in love with him, and you fell in love with sneaking around with him. kissing in hidden hallways, lingering gazes in front of your friends and cryptic conversations.

that’s why everytime he comes over you can’t help but give in to him. anger doesn’t exist when you’re around him and you wanted so deeply to hate him. but you just can’t

Within 30 minutes of Wonbin waking you to tell you he was leaving to get ready for school, your alarm went off, telling you that it was now your turn. Not ready to get up yet you snooze your alarm for 20 more minutes.

After twenty minutes pass and your alarm goes off again you roll out of bed and throw on the first thing you see. Which happens to be an oversized black zip up hoodie and a pair of jeans.

“Is that Wonbin’s hoodie?” Giselle asks the second she she’s you.

“Hmm?” You finally look down at the large garment you’re wearing. Nearly widening your eyes when you realize it is in fact his hoodie.

“No. Girl why would I be wearing Wonbin’s hoodie?” You laugh off and she follows after you

“I thought it was for a second.”

“Anyways I heard shotaro finally asked you out on a date.”

“It’s not really a date, we’re just hanging out.”

“Hanging out alone? It's definitely a date.” She re-adresses and continues

“It’s about time, you guys move like turtles.”

By the time she finishes her sentence you’re standing right out front of the door to the class.

“It’s just a little hang out.”

“Talk to someone who doesn’t know any better.”

“Goodbye Gigi.”

“Bye girl.”

The second you walk into class you catch a glimpse of the very girl that had her paws over (not) your man yesterday morning. But you don’t get much time to think because shotaro calls your name and signals you over to take a seat next to him.

“Hey.” You smile before you take a seat.

“How’d you sleep?”

“I slept pretty well.”

“So we’re still on for tonight.”

“Yeah of course.”

He smiles and turns to the teacher when she begins to speak. You wanna pay attention to the class, but all your focus goes to the brunette beauty sitting far across the room.

She’s talking to her friend and she starts to smile, you see just how pretty her smile is. Which you hadn’t noticed yesterday. She’s gorgeous and you hate it. You hate how pretty she is, you hate that you’re now so fixed on her because of one minor interaction between her and someone that you weren’t even supposed to be with.

Each time you try to pretend she isn’t there, you find yourself taking more and more peaks of her. By the end of the class you’re now hating yourself and wanting again to just disappear into thin air.

You leave class immediately, wanting to head to the bathroom and take a small break but Wonbin has other plans as he stands outside of your class to pull you aside the second you walk out.

“Why haven’t you responded to my text?”

“Huh?” You question clearly confused about what it is he would even be messaging you about that was so serious it warranted him standing outside of your class like a fool.

“Didn’t you get my messages?”

“No, I haven't checked my phone.”

“Wow, nice to see that you guys are finally talking. Sometimes i forget that you two know each other.” Shotaro speaks from besides you.

“It’s just there's nothing for us to really talk about.”

“I think we’d have more conversations if you didn’t ignore me.”

To that you just laugh off, hoping that Shotaro didn’t catch the sarcasm in Wonbin’s statement.

“Well I’ll leave you guys to talk, I’ll be in the library.” Shotaro points as he walks off and you fix your legs to follow after him but Wonbin takes your wrist and pulls you back to him.

Only for you to quickly pull it away. “What are you trying to do?”

“Sorry, wouldn’t want your boyfriend to catch us.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You say first

“And secondly i didn’t say anything when you were fucking that girl with your eyes yesterday.”

You wanna die when he smiles down at you, finally pulling out the answer that you’d been trying to hide.

“Is that why you were so mad?” he mocks.

“No, I wasn’t mad. I don’t care. do what you want.”

“To be fair you’re not being so discreet, walking around campus with my hoodie on.”

“I didn’t realize it was yours until I got to school.”

“But you still have it on.”

“I don’t have a shirt on '' you whisper shyly enough for him to hear. The way he smiled at you makes you debate on whether you wanna kiss him in front of everyone or run and hide.

“Well you look good in it.” He says playing on the strings of the hoodie.

“Can I see you later?”

“You know you can’t.”

“Right, you have a date.”

“It’s not a date.”

“Then go tell him that.”

“No. Why would - I don't have time for this. I have to go study.”

“Study hard.” You don’t give a response, you just roll your eyes and walk away.

This is a date. There was no point of lying to yourself anymore when you knew the answer. Shotaro’s handsy, not in the way that makes you uncomfortable, but in the way that if a stranger were watching they’d think that you were a couple.

Of course you don’t mind it when he slides an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him whenever a stranger passes by you. Or when he slips his hand over yours to lead you through the different activities.

In fact you think you might actually like it. The mood with shotaro is so light you feel like you're just floating. You’re happy, and you know you can most definitely get used to this.

“Look.” He says to grab your attention. You turn around and see he’s holding his phone to take a selfie with you. So easily you hold up a pose to match his expression and watch as he takes a few flicks.

He swipes through the pictures in front of you so you can see the results. Leaned against him with your arm looped around his.

“These are so cute.”

“You like them?”

“Mhm, send them to me.”

“Okay what do you wanna do next?”

“Um~” you hymn while looking, scanning around the area to see what catches your eye. Each station looks fun and interactive but when you see a coffee stand that has hot chocolate, your mind is made up immediately.

“Let’s get hot chocolate.” You look up at him and he’s looking down at you with his dark orbs.

“Hot chocolate it is.”

He leads you to the hot chocolate station and stands with you in line.

“Which one do you want?”

“Pumpkin with whipped cream.”

You wait in line, your arms remained tightened around Shotaro while he placed the order. You only pull your arms off of him when the person working the stand passes you your cup of hot chocolate.

“Oh look, it's Wonbin.”

Hearing his name is enough to perk your ears up. You hadn’t thought about him the whole night, and you really don’t wanna start now.

You follow Shotaro's eyes to see Wonbin standing not far away from you. He doesn’t notice you standing there until Shotaro calls out his name and signals him over to you.

Wonbin sees Shotaro first and then he sees you, shaking your head back and forth with widened eyes hoping that he’d take the hint and stay where he is. But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t.

“Hey I didn't know you guys would be here.” Wonbin lied straight through his pretty lips.

“We were just hanging out.” Shotaro responds on your behalf

“I’ve been looking for you. I got our hot chocolate.” The same girl from yesterday stood right in front of you again. Wearing the same smile she had prior and a look in her eyes that tells you that she really really liked Wonbin.

“Thanks.” He says retrieving a cup from one of her hands and using his other hand to hold the hand he just freed.

You feel sick again, just as you did yesterday morning. The worst part is that you know that he knows because of the way he smirks darkly at you.

“Oh these are my friends.”

“Oh I know you guys, we have biology together. I always thought that you made the cutest couple.”

You smile and look up at Shotaro who’s also smiling.

“They aren’t dating.” wonbin sternly corrects her before she gets a chance to finish her sentence

“Wait really, you should y’all are so cute together.” She compliments again. Completely oblivious to the way wonbin turns his head and rolls his eyes.

“Wouldn’t they be perfect together?” She looks up at Wonbin for an answer.

“Yeah, I couldn't imagine her with anyone else.”

“Thanks everyone tells us that we should get together.” You smile up at shotaro hoping to make Wonbin at least half as upset as he made you.

“We should leave you love birds to finish your night.”

“Actually I think it would be fun for us to go through the haunted maze together.” You loop your arm back around Shotaro and smile at Wonbin.

“Oh my god, yes.” Wonbin’s date jumps and sequels.

The night was fun before and you had expected it to get even better, clinging on Shotaro as you walked in front of Wonbin and his date through the maze. Tightening your hold onto his arm each time another actor popped out. Or giggling about how brave he was, knowing that wonbin got to see everything.

You just wished that you could keep up the act for the entire night. Or at least not visibly roll your eyes when you hear a small voice behind you go “this is so scary, can I hold your hand.” It took everything in you not to turn around to see what was going on behind you.

The more you hear the conversation going on behind you the more you cling to Shotaro. Half attempting to make him jealous and half hoping that if you spent more time worrying about Shotaro you’d spend less time thinking about wonbin and the girl behind you, and not what they were doing.

Not that there was actually anything happening, wonbin was too occupied with watching you laugh and smile with Shotaro to even care about the girl that he invited simply to see you get mad again. Her hands on him went completely unnoticed as he poked his tongue through his cheek to stop himself from making any comments aloud.

When all of you finished the maze you were annoyed and so was he, but both of you were stubborn. So he wore a pretty fake smile when he wrapped his arm around the girl beside him and you did the same, intertwining your fingers with Shotaro's and smiling up to him about how fun the maze was.

You weren’t even trying to piss Wonbin off anymore, you were just trying to keep up the act that you started. Unsure of who you were doing it for. Were you trying to convince Wonbin, Shotaro or yourself?

The night ends off with you in the passenger seat of his car, after he arrives at your apartment.

“I had so much fun, taro. Thanks for inviting me out.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, I actually wanted to talk to you a little bit.”

“Yeah? What's up?”

“Well actually I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I just didn’t wanna make a fool of myself, but I was talking to the guys about it, and they said I should just do it. I don’t wanna make things weird though and actu-” you’re watching him in adoration as he rambles on and avoids eye contact with you.

“Do what?” you ask through your giggle

“Well I really like you, Y/N. I’ve liked you for a long time now and I like talking to you, spending time with you.”

“Yeah.” you speak gently, that’s what makes shotaro take a deep breath and finally look at you.

“I just wanted to ask if you’d like to be my girlfriend?.”

“I-“ you begin to speak but he’s quick to cut you off before you could even answer him.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now, just think about it and let me know when you’re ready.”

“I’ll definitely think about it.” You reach to give him a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

What an eventful night, you think while walking into your apartment. Easily your feet shuffle to your bed and allow yourself to fall back.

Shotaros question leaves you confused. You wanted to say yes. It seemed like the obvious answer, and you would have agreed to his proposal the second he asked but the only thing standing in your way is Wonbin.

You turn in your bed and curl into a ball, taking the black garment beside you and using it as a pillow not noticing that it’s Wonbin’s hoodie until you recognize the large print written behind the hoodie.

Just as you throw the hoodie across the room there’s a knock at the door. It’s small and kinda shy so you think it’s shotaro and for the second night in a row you’re mistaken as you open to find Wonbin standing directly parallel from you.

You have nothing to say to him, you’re mad at him, you think. But you’re not entirely sure. You feel like you’re supposed to be upset and you’re supposed to be kicking him out of your apartment. You try to find the answer by just looking at him, but when you see him you see Wonbin. You love the man you see in front of you, and you hate that you do.

“Where’s your date?” You ask

“Probably at home.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

He invites himself in fully and closes the door behind him.

“I bet you'd like to know.”

“You were all touchy feely earlier, I’d think that you really liked her.”

“I don’t even know her name.”

“You’re a sick man,”

“You’re not any better, baby.

You knew you were just as bad. You were well aware. Both of you are using innocent people as pawns in this twisted game you liked to play.

“I’m not as bad as you.”

“So you don’t mind me telling shotaro about this?”

“Why would you do that?”

“Why shouldn’t i?”

He’s so close to you, that you feel his heat radiating on to you. But he’s not as close as you’d like him to be. That’s how you knew you were worse than he was. Because even with everything that just transpired tonight you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him until you're out of breath. Until his lips are red and swollen, until you finally understand what’s holding you back from fully committing to shotaro.

The question goes unanswered when your lips are tangled in his, not an inch in between your connecting bodies. Only thing to pull you away from each other is when you hear a single ring from your phone, telling you that someone texted.

You know who it is, and so does he. But it doesn’t stop you from pulling out your phone to check the message from shotaro telling you to sleep well.

This isn’t right, you feel at this exact moment that this isn’t right. You look up at Wonbin, your eyes easily finding him. Thinking that maybe this will set you straight. But all it does is remind you of how you got here in the first place.

Within a split second your lips are back on his again, they never leave. Even as he leads you to your bed to lay you down gently.

“This is the last time we’re doing this, so you better make it count.”

“Yes ma’am.” Is all he whispers in your ear before he begins leaving kisses down your collar bone.

Mornings after spending a night with Wonbin were the exact reason that you kept this going for so long. There’s nothing in the world more comforting than the beating of his heart mixed with sounds of chirping birds and light of the morning sun sneaking into your apartment.

There once was a time when you’d swore you wanted to lay here for eternity. But something today is different, because with the birds chirping and the sun dimly shining and his arms wrapped firmly around you. It just doesn’t feel the same, you can’t tell what’s changed.

But you know that the more you lay in bed with him the more you feel wrong.

“You’re awake?” He peeks down at you with sleepy eyes. The ones you loved waking up to, at least you used to. You don’t know what’s switched in you, but honestly you don’t wanna know. Now you finally have the strength to end this cycle that you’ve started.

His eyes are trained on you and you sit up and lean against your headboard.

“You should go.” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a whisper.

“What?”

“I want you to leave.”

He doesn’t ask anymore questions but you can tell he’s confused. You’re watching him in silence as he slips his clothes back on and you grab one of your favorite oversized band shirts to throw on.

“Can I call you later?”

“You won’t get an answer.”

The room goes silent again, while he collects his shoes, wallet, and phone and makes his way to the door.

“Wait.” You stop him before he walks out.

It’s almost fun to you when you see him turn back to you with shadows of hope ghosting over his expression.

“You forgot this.” You tease,

walking to him with his black hoodie.

“Goodbye, Wonbin.” You reach to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Nobody notices how your eyes are glued to Wonbin when he takes a seat directly across from you. He pretends like he’s so focused on what Seunghan has to say but you know that’s not the case because when he laughs he looks at you.

It doesn’t occur to you until now that this whole kind of breakup thing isn’t going to be easy at all.

“So Y/N how’d your date go yesterday?” Karina turns the attention to you. You feel all eyes turn to your direction and including Wonbin’s who’s looking you through his eyebrows.

“We had a lot of fun.” You turn to shotaro hoping that maybe it will take your attention off of the man sitting across from you.

“Did you guys kiss?”

“You know they didn’t, they still act like 2nd graders when they touch hands.”

“Be careful, she’s not as innocent as she looks.”

Wonbin laughs while looking at you.

“Wait what? Y/n did you finally lose your virginity?”

The question causes you to cough aloud. Sure you weren’t innocent, but you definitely did not want to talk about your first sex experience in public to all of your guy friends and especially not with shotaro and Wonbin.

“I um… yeah, remember I told you guys.”

“Oh yeah, the guy from earlier this year. That you said made you wanna baby trap him with how good it was.”

“I don’t think I said all that.”

“Mm mm you said more.”

“I remember cause she was like-“

“Okay, that’s enough.” You stop them. Not only because it was a topic you’d rather not talk about in front of shotaro but also because the man that you wanted to “baby trap.” Was Wonbin

“Whatever happened to him?” Giselle asked

“She probably got bored and dropped him.” Wonbin snickers under his breath, not even bothering to look at you.

“Well, actually. I realized that we weren’t good for each other, and that I needed to be with someone who was good for more than just sex.”

“Amen girl.” Giselle adds

“Aww and now she has shotaro.”

“Honestly it sounds like an upgrade. What a douchebag.” Winter says while looking down at her food.

“But let’s be honest? Do you even like shotaro?” Wonbin blurts out. It takes not even 30 seconds for you to jump up and drag Wonbin away from the table by his wrist to a place where the rest of your friends can still see you but none of them can hear you.

All heads are turned towards the both of you as you yell at him for his unnecessary comments.

“What are they talking about?” Winter questions

“Don’t worry guys, I can read lips.” sohee says

“Okay she said something about the weather.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you ask frustratedly

“I just asked a question, but it clearly got you upset ” He smiles down at you.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Maybe not, but I feel like he deserves to know.” Wonbin gestures to shotaro who walks up behind you.

“What’s going on with you guys?”

“Nothing, we had a small argument yesterday and now he’s acting like a baby.” You answer shotaro while watching Wonbin.

“Do you need to talk it out?” Shotaro asks

“There’s nothing more to say.” Wonbin says nonchalantly while walking back to the table and grabbing his bag, throwing it over his shoulder while making his way past you.

“I’ll see you around.” Is all he says before walking off and leaving you and shotaro by yourself.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You look down and notice shotaro’s hand is loosely wrapped around yours. You don’t really know when it got there but you figure that that’s the reason Wonbin decided to cut the conversation.

“I’m fine, sorry about all that.”

After the entire incident with Wonbin you really only see him around campus. Neither of you are brave enough to talk to each other or at least apologize.

No matter how many times shotaro has explained to you that he didn’t find offense in Wonbin’s question. Or that he just wants you guys to work it out because he hates seeing his two close friends fight.

Part of you wants to just be honest with him and tell him what the whole fight was really about. But the rest of you thinks about the guilt you’ll feel when you see his reaction.

As far as the rest of the friend group went, things were pretty awkward. They’d only have one of you around at a time to avoid any blow up again.

As time goes on, the more you’re reminded that you guys had that rule about not dating within the friend group. And with each passing moment you feel guilty, because you never intended for things to get this far.

Even though this situation was extremely stressful you still had Shotaro’s question lingering in the back of your mind and with everything going on the answer seemed even clearer than ever.

Especially if Wonbin was no longer in the picture.

“So shotaro asked me to be his girlfriend.” you start

“It’s about time.” Ningning speaks

“When?” karina asks

“2 weeks ago, after we went to the festival.” you answer

“And what did you say?” giselle asks

“I didn’t give him an answer yet. He told me to think about it.” you respond

“What is there to think about?” winter questions

“I don’t know, we just had that rule about dating within each other and I didn’t wanna break it.” You lie.

“When we made that rule, it never applied to you and shotaro.” karina says, rolling her eyes

“Girl, two weeks is long enough to think about it, call him right now.” ningning says picking up your phone and throwing it in your lap.

“I can’t do that.” you argue

“Yes you can, and you will.” ningning states

“I’ll just text him.” you mumble

“No, you need to call him.” giselle says sharply

Ignoring them, you open your messages and begin to type out your message.

You: I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And I think I'm ready to finally be your girlfriend.

The second you send the text you throw your phone down on the bed. Hands shielding your face as if it could aid in the embarrassment you feel. The girls all squealed as the message was sent.

“Girl what are you scared of, he asked you.” ningning says laughing

“I know but it’s still scary, what if he changed his mind.” you say

“I’m sure he didn’t.”

Right after winter speaks you hear three bells come from your phone. To inform you that you got three new messages from shotaro.

The anticipation is killing you alive. On one hand you wanna know what he said and on the other you’re too afraid to pick up your phone.

“Girl answer the phone.” giselle says

“I can’t.” you say pushing the phone away from you

“Okay fine, I’ll do it.” Karina picks up the phone to read the messages. That’s when you finally uncover your face and watch their reaction carefully.

If their faces weren’t enough to tell you that something was wrong, the collective “oh.” Should’ve done it for you.

“What? What’s wrong?” you ask

“Umm you might wanna see this yourself.” karina says with a tight smile

They passed your phone back so you could see what was happening.

Wonbin: when you said you wanted to end things, i didn’t think this is what you meant

But honestly I’m glad you finally texted me, I really missed you.

I'd like to see how this works out

“Wow“ you sat there staring at your phone screen

“How did you even do that?” winter says, her brows furrowed

“I don’t know, I had both of their contacts pinned and I guess I accidentally chose the wrong one.” you stress

“Chose the wrong one?” giselle asks, her brow raised

“Wait, why would you even have Wonbin’s contact pinned? And what does he mean to end things?” karina asks, looking to the other girls

It’s true what they say. What’s done in the dark comes to the light. No matter how good you think you are at hiding. The truth always comes out eventually.

“Umm.” you trail off

You try to figure out how to say things while the four girls sit there waiting for an answer.

“We’ve been talking for a while.” you mumble

“Talking like how?” they start

“Did you guys have sex?” winter asks

“We’ve dabbled.” you mutter

“Literally what does that even mean?” ningning says, squinting at you

“Yeah.” you sigh

“How many times?” Giselle asks

“Uh like 3 times.” You’re not sure if it’s accurate but 3 is the first number that pops up in your head, and you start to nod your head when you see a couple of the girls nodding in agreement.

“Okay that’s not too bad.” giselle responds.

“A week.” You finish.

They let out a collective “damn.” Which told you that its definitely a lot.

“I didn’t know he had all that in him.” Karina says with widened eyes

“Oh he’s definitely got all that.” The thought makes you smile a little.

“Wait, you and Wonbin? As in the pretty boy who would flirt with a plant if it had eyes.”

“Yeah~”

“How did this happen?”

“I don’t know, I don't know one day we were just talking. Next day… he was in my bed. I thought that it’d be the first and only time but-“

“You just couldn’t stay away.” giselle speaks what you were thinking, causing you to shake your head in shame.

“How long have you guys been.. Y’know seeing each other.” winter questions

“Since like February.” you answer

“That’s 9 months.” Winter calculates

“Oh you sneaky bitch.” Ningning shakes her head

It takes but only a few minutes for other truths to be revealed.

“Is that why he blew up at the table? He’s the guy you wanted to baby trap?”

“Yeah.” You look down

“And you did have his hoodie on that day?”

You didn’t have anything to say for yourself, you were just ashamed.

“I can’t believe you lied to me. To my face.”

“She’s been lying to all of us.”

“Hold up… you said you had sex in your bed…” Ningning pauses “in this bed?” She points down gesturing to the bed.

“Yeah? Why?” Your question is answered when they all immediately jump off the bed and scream.

“Come on guys, I washed the sheets.”

“When’s the last time you guys hooked up?” winter asks

“Well I wouldn't call it hooking up, I’d say more love making, we have emotions between us when we do what we do.”

“Answer the question.” they yell at you collectively, you’ve always found it amusing how in sync they were.

“When I went to the fall festival with Shotaro.”

“Was this before or after he popped the question?” giselle asks

“After…” you say while looking to the side.

“Wow, you’re evil.”

“Poor shotaro. You’ve been cheating on him this entire time.” Ningning sighs

“We were never dating.” you say

“Yeah and you never will with this type of behavior.” She adds

“You and Wonbin? I’m still trying to imagine it.” Karina says

“I Can Girl, and it is not a pretty sight.” Giselle responds

The voices of the other girls are drowned out when you stare at the messages that Wonbin sent you. “I missed you.” Pops out the most to you. You bite your lip thinking about being exclusive with him.

While you’re still reviewing the text you see the text bubbles arise leaving you anxious to see what he’s about to say next.

Whilst going over the messages there’s a knock at the door. You along with all of the girls towards the door and they all turn to look at you.

“I think it’s your man.” Ningning teases

“God I hope not.”

“Well hurry and answer it.” Winter rushes you

Your feet drag towards the door, not really wanting to face him right now and especially not when you have your girls watching you.

However everything goes out of the window when you see his face. You don’t remember why you were fighting and start to question how you thought you could go without seeing him like this again.

“Oh guys, it’s wonbin. Ha ha.”

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t need to look to know that the girls are watching you like you’re on drugs. So instead of carrying this act on further you just stand back and let him in.

“Just.. come in.”

“You know what, now that I’ve seen it. I totally get it.” Karina admits

“Me too. They’d have the cutest babies.” Ningning exclaims

“Babies?” You question

“They’d be annoying too, please wear protection?” Winter adds

“Our babies wouldn’t be…” you stop when you realize what it is you’re saying. “There aren’t gonna be any babies.”

“Sure.” one of them say sarcastically

They all make their way to the entrance and start to leave. The last one to go is Ningning who looks at both of you one last time and says.

“No, you definitely chose the right one.” Before smiling at you and leaving you to answer Wonbin’s new set of questions.

“What’s she talking about?”

“We were talking about my apartment unit. I was questioning whether I got the right layout or not.”

Wonbin was right, you weren’t at all as innocent as you looked. Your ability to come up with a clever lie on the spot was a talent that you praised yourself on. All the practicing was really paying off.

“What made you change your mind? about us?” He placed his hands on each side of your hips and asked.

“Well we were talking and I realized that I couldn’t hide it anymore.”

Boyfriend Wonbin was completely different from hookup Wonbin. PDA was his love language, which you were still getting used to.

The campus is full of students just trying to go about their day and get to their next activity. You easily blend in as one of those fairly busy students. Just making your way down the campus field when you hear your name being called from behind you.

“Let me walk you to class.” He says while cuffing your hands with his.

You hesitate to answer.

“Um okay.”

As soon as those words leave your mouth his fingers are intertwined in yours. Now walking through campus just simply holding hands has your heart racing.

Constantly looking over your shoulder to see if there’s actually eyes on you or if you're just hallucinating.

When your relationship was hidden you imagined things like this, holding his hand in public for everyone to see. Claiming him as yours. But now that you had the opportunity you were paranoid.

You’re not sure what you’re scared of until you see the girl who’s name you never learned, talking with her friends right in front of your class

“Text me when you get out of class.”

“Yeah.. okay.”

You say while still eyeing the brown haired girl opposite of him. You don’t know her but you feel extremely guilty about what you’ve dragged her into.

you only pull your eyes away when he uses his first two fingers and guides your face towards him. “I'm right here, baby.”

“don’t call me that, what if they hear you.”

“hear what? me talking to my girlfri-“

the second you begin to hear the “g” word you push your lips on his to shush him up. it wasn’t the best thing to do but it just happened instinctively.

and now you were beyond embarrassed.

“I'll see you later.”

When you turn away to go into class he pulls you back and places a softer kiss on your lips.

“Study hard.” he cheers you on as you walk into the classroom.

“Do you have yesterday's notes, I left my laptop with Wonbin.” Shotaro nudges you.

“Yeah, of course. how is he by the way, it’s been a while since we talked.” you ask.

“really? I thought he said he was with you a few days ago?” he questions

“Umm, now that I think about it. We did hang out a little. I forgot about it for a second, sorry.”

“I'm glad you guys are getting along again.”

you feel it again, the guilt.

“I mean things are still a little awkward, we’re not that close.” You lie again.

“It’s still progress.”

It was definitely progress just not in the way that he thinks.

Your hour and 30 minute class felt like an eternity. With shotaro right beside you and wonbin’s former date in front of you, you felt like the walls were closing in on you.

The second class is over, you make a run for it. Quickly tossing your bag over your shoulder and scurrying out before shotaro or anyone else could stop you. But as soon as you step out of the classroom door you’re met with a smiley Wonbin waiting patiently for you.

“How was class?” he asks while slipping his hands into yours and swinging his arms back and forth.

You’d love to just sit and talk with him, but only of course in the privacy of your apartment. Not here where Shotaro could easily see you, holding hands with the one person that you just told him you haven’t heard from.

Wonbin observes when you gently pull your hand from his and back away from him. “It was okay, I’m kinda busy though now. So I’m gonna-”

“Wonbin, what are you doing over here? Isn’t your class across campus?” shotaro walks out with an unknowing smile hanging between his cheeks.

“To pick up-”

“He said he was here to give you your laptop back.”

You stop him mid sentence and wrap your arm around his shoulder to stop him from grabbing your hand again. You can feel the heat of Wonbins eyes watching you but you try to ignore it as you keep focused on shotaro.

“I don’t have it with me.” he says confused,

The two of them standing in front of you at the same time makes your heart pound outside of your chest. Scared that Shotaro might reveal that he asked you to be his girlfriend, or that wonbin might uncover that you’re his girlfriend.. So what would anyone do in these kinds of situations? Lie. You were already doing that a ton these days.

“That’s interesting, well we’ll see you later. Wonbin and I have a project to finish up,” you say in a hurry, pulling Wonbin away by his wrist before either of them could question anything.

Spending everyday hiding and lying to everyone was more tiring than you thought it'd be. But despite all of that there were a few positives to this relationship with your newfound boyfriend.. Things like sitting with legs horizontally across his lap while he goes over the notes for his history class.

There’s nothing to be said, it’s completely silent other than the sounds coming from the world outside of your apartment. You liked it this way. Just being in silence with him, skin on skin, heartbeats in sync. Your fingers playing in his hair out of habit, watching him carefully review the contents of his lap. When you notice a little black leather book hanging out of his bag.

“What’s this?” you say while leaning over to pick it up. Wonbin only looks up at you and then towards the book that you’re leaning to get and immediately he reaches to get it before you do.

“Just a notebook.” he says, holding it away from you.

“Well let me see it, it’s pretty.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Just let me see it.” you whine while pushing yourself further over top of him just to reach the notebook in his hand. By the time you finally get to the notebook, you let out a small giggle of victory. And run on the other side of the room.

The book isn’t too big, just big enough to fit into the palm of your hand with a small latch on the front and some small pattern art indented onto the front and the back. You don’t think to open it until he says “Okay, you’ve seen it. Give it back.”

“I’m not done looking.” you tease inspecting the book more, unlatching the hook to read the contents inside the book.

“Ooh Is this your poetry? I didn’t know you write.”

He’s talking but you don’t hear anything he says when you begin to read a random page of the small book aloud.

Fragile like a butterfly, soft like the petals of a healthy rose. You're stuck in my brain like lyrics to a catchy song. If you were a book I'd read you over and over again. If you were a movie I'd watch you repeatedly, but you don't have to be a book or a movie for me to enjoy watching you, reading the scriptures of your eyes like literature. feeling the texture of your skin as if you were made from braille. holding onto your hips as if the flesh of your body was the only source to eternal life. breathing in your scent as if you were made from the finest perfume.

cherishing you now, because I know I'll never find anything better.

“Aww you’re so romantic.” you tease again before finding another random page to read.

What do you call this?

the feeling I get in my stomach when I see you? the emotions I feel when you kiss me. the pit in my stomach when I see you smiling with someone else.

Is this what love feels like?

What do you call it when I start to smile to myself when I see something that reminds me of you.

when there's no one else in the world that makes me feel the way you do.

Is this what love feels like?

What do I do when you don't feel the same way? when loving you feels like self-inflicted torture. when you're both the remedy and sickness.

I hope this isn't what love feels like.

“Wait, is this…”you begin asking but trail off when you realize it's probably not what you’re thinking.

“All of these are about you.”

“Why?” you say the first thing that comes to mind, but retract shortly after you redirect the question. “I didn’t know you felt this way?”

You keep your eyes on him even as he stands up and walks over to you. “You really couldn’t tell?”

“How could I, when you’re always talking and flirting with someone new in front of me. Or that girl from the festival? You know you don’t really do a good job at showing people you care for them.”

“Okay so how do you feel?” he redirects the focus onto you.

“I really really like you obviously?” he’s looking at you but you’re trying to look everywhere else but in his direction. He’s watching you like he’s waiting for you to say something else, and you both know what he’s expecting you to say.

“I love you. I really love you. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“I do, I need you to tell me everyday.”

By now you’re speechless. Not because you have nothing to say but because you have so much to say you don’t even know where to start. You could tell him that you’ve been in love with him for so long that it felt like forever or you could tell him that he’s crazy for not knowing how you felt about him. Or you could just kiss him, because that should be enough to say everything all at once without saying anything at all. And that’s what you choose.

As more time goes on you feel that Ningning was right. You definitely did choose the right one, there wasn’t anyone else that fit you better than wonbin. Shotaro was close but he just wasn’t the same. You don’t know what it is about him that you love, but being with him just puts your mind at ease.

you’d gotten more comfortable with doing a couple things in public. things like holding hands, and kissing. that is of course until you spot shotaro walking up, that’s when you pull your hand away and make up some silly lie that you have to get something from your car.

or other times where you didn’t have time to run away so you just have to push wonbin away and lie about his hands being sweaty.

you were getting more creative with the lies.

“today we should go for frozen yogurt.” wonbin speaks while swinging your arms together.

“ooh i’ve been wanting ice cream.”

“I said frozen yogurt…“

“oh my god what is that?”

“what’s what?”

“I think I just saw a huge rat run that way, we’ll just have to take the stairs.”

“a rat?”

“yeah it was huge, come on. this way.” you try to hurry and pull him away but he isn’t budging. still searching for the rat that you claimed to have seen.

“where?”

there wasn’t a rat, it was just sohee. walking towards you with a bright teeth showing smile and glistening eyes. like he always does.

“Hey guys.”

“Sohee~” you drag out his name, as he approaches you and wonbin. By now you’d given up on trying to break physical contact with Wonbin. He shifted his hand from yours to wrapping his arm around your waist, and rested his chin right on your shoulder.

“Have you seen Shotaro?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Oh, He’s looking for you. By the way, how did you do in the history term?’

“I aced it.” you giggle excitedly.

“That’s my girl.” You blush when wonbin kisses your cheek as a reward.

“What about you?” Judging by his face you can tell that he didn’t do too well but you still wait for his answer giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“I think it’s time for me to find a new life path.” he trails off closer to the end.

“Oh come on it couldn’t have been that bad.” you say hopefully

“The professor told me to start looking for a new life path.”

“Oh…” both you and wonbin say at the same time.

“I’m thinking about maybe just starting my own bakery.”

“I didn’t know you baked?” wonbin adds

“I don’t, but I mean how hard could it be?” He finishes with a shrug of his shoulders

“You’ve burnt french fries in the microwave.” You remind him.

“I thought the tin foil would make it heat up faster.'' Sohee defends himself, but he really doesn't need to. You were there when Karina told him that putting foil in the microwave would save 99% of his time. And did he believe her? Well, yes. Yes he did.

“yea…” you start but you don’t really have anything to say. Sohee wasn't the brightest but he was adorable and he had a good heart.

“Anyways, I’m going to join the rest of the crew in the food court. You guys coming?” He asks

“Yeah, we’ll be there soon.” You answer.

“Kk bye.” he says while walking past you towards the food court.

—--

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” shotaro asks while sitting down at the table with his tray of food in his hands.

“I haven’t seen her all day, I don’t think.” Giselle answers while picking up her phone to see if you responded to the message she sent you earlier.

“Neither have I.” Ningning confirms while looking around the area.

“Did she come today?” karina ask

“I hope so, I asked her something a while ago and i’m waiting for her to give me an answer?” shotaro admits. His statement makes all the girls look at eachother, trying to come up with a way to cover for you without looking suspicious. Luckily just in the nick of time sohee walks over to the table with seunghan.

“Sohee, Have you seen Y/N?” Winter asks before he could even take a seat.

“Uh yeah she was with wonbin.” Sohee says without a second thought.

“Those two have been real close lately.” seunghan adds

Ningning, karina and winter all exchange looks while Giselle looks to shotaro to make sure he doesn’t pick up on what’s going on. “They’re not as close as you’d think.” she defends you

“Yeah, are you sure they were together?” Ningning questions, even though she knew the answer.

“Yeah. positive. I told her that shotaro was looking for her, and wonbin had his arm around her which I thought was weird but maybe- OW.’ sohee stops when Karina kicks him under the table.

“Are you really sure it was Y/n?”

“I’m very sure.” he says while looking around the table to find everyone giving him unbelieving stares. “Guys, come on, I know Y/n when I see her, I’m not stupid.” he looked around once again hoping that maybe someone would believe him but instead the table just burst into a collective laugh.

“Says the one who mixed bleach with ammonia and layed on the floor for five hours because you thought you were dead.” ningning giggles

“Says the one who thought Antarctica and amnesia were the same thing.” Giselle adds.

“Says the one who microwaved their fork and killed our microwave for the fifth time.” Seunghan comes in.

“What is it with you and microwaves?” Winter questions and causes the table to erupt in laughter again.

“Okay so I’m not mr einstein.”

“Far from it.” Suenghan says under his breath

“Like galaxies away from it.” winter mocks

“Oh come on? You guys have made mistakes too.”

“Yes, but none of us have put toothpaste on a cracked phone because a random youtuber told us to.” Winter responds

“I just know your guardian angels are stressed.” Karina laughs.

“Should I just call her?” shotaro speaks up and the whole table goes silent. The girls are trying to figure out what to say to keep him from stressing out too much over you, and sohee is still trying to think of a comeback that won’t get him clowned again.

“Yeah, or maybe just text her. She might be busy right now.”

You don’t know if “busy” was the word you’d use to describe what it was you were doing with wonbin in the janitor's closet, but you could definitely say you were too occupied to answer any phone calls, including one’s from Shotaro.

“Yeah, I’ll just text her.” he agrees lowly while pulling out his phone and shooting you a text. You heard your phone vibrate but you simply ignored it as wonbin continued to kiss you, pushing you further against the wall knocking down the brooms and mops beside you.

After missing 20 minutes of your next class you finally get time to read the messages on your phone. Which makes your heart drop, you wonder if you’re ever going to get to a point in your relationship where you don’t feel guilty for being with wonbin.

Taro:) : Are you busy?

Taro:) : Can we talk?

You don’t even know how to answer him when you’re right beside wonbin. Who’s watching you read the messages with a frowned expression written all over your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks while reading the text on your screen.

“Nothing.” you mumble while clicking your phone off and placing it in your back pocket. “I just have to hurry and get to my next class. I’m not usually this late.”

“What does he wanna talk about?” wonbin asks, not giving you the chance to escape the topic.

“I don’t know. It’s probably an assignment or something.”

“Assignments don’t usually make you this upset.”

“I’m not upset.” you shout just a little, enough to startle the both of you.

“I’m not too convinced.”

“There’s nothing wrong, I just have to go before I’m even more late than I already am.”

“Okay then let me walk you there,”

“I’m fine going by myself.” while walking away, your steps come out more like stomps as you get away from him. You didn’t mean to take your frustration out on him, you just needed time to yourself to think. There was only a matter of time before Shotaro asked for your answer, and you just didn't know what you were going to tell him.

You just didn’t expect that time to be now, as you run tight into shotaro not too far from where you left Wonbin.

“Hey? You’re here.”

“Yeah, Sorry I’m really late for class.” you rush, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“Can we talk on the way?” He stops you so you can’t rush off again. He’s looking at you like he really needs to talk but you don’t know how to say “No.” Already knowing exactly what it is he wanted to talk about. “We’ll have to talk after class, I’m already super late. I’m sorry.” You slowly run holding up your hands together as a way to say sorry.

You think you’ll find peace in your history lecture. Maybe learning about events that were completely irrelevant to you will make you forget about the web of lies that you’ve wrapped yourself into. However your thoughts are going a mile a minute, trying to think about how you’re going to approach Shotaro after class.

Anxiously tapping your pencil at your notebook, watching the numbers increase each time the minute changes and changing focus from the lecture to the small black notebook peeking out from under your other notebooks.

You’re trying to avoid its non-existent gaze on you, but it’s basically screaming “read me, read me.” so you obey. Slowly reaching to pick up the book and unlatch the hook. Going to read the very first page.

Being with you is like listening to the waves crash upon the shore's surface at night. Peaceful and calming, but I never know when the waves are going to crash too close. Serenity and excitement, you're like the different shades of green. like spring rain and winter snow, you're the beautiful parts of life that no one would ever want to live without.

Well that wasn’t a good idea, you think to yourself as you're now on the verge of tears in the middle of class. Yet it still doesn’t stop you from reading more confessions from the book. Turning pages as the seconds went by with more and more tears streaming down your cheek.

You find again that Ningning was right, not that you really needed any more convincing. But now it’s just too obvious, there’s no one else for you other than Park Wonbin and with that your mind's made up. Once you see Shotaro again, you’re just gonna be completely honest with him. No more lying, no more hiding and no more leading him on. You’re just going to tell him everything.

“Yeah sure you can come over tonight.” You smile at Shotaro.

Well that wasn’t the plan. It seemed so much easier when you were only thinking about it, but seeing his face light up when you called his name, and the excitement that lingered in his voice when he asked to come over got the best of you. That feeling of shame teasing at you once again.

So now here you are, alone in your apartment with shotaro. It’s funny to think that you were just here in this same place with wonbin the night prior. Actually funny isn’t the word you’d use to describe it, maybe more like nauseating. The way he’s looking at you, the way you wish it were your boyfriend here filling his place instead. The way you feel the words sit heavy on your tongue but you just can’t seem to say them aloud.

“I’m dating Wonbin.” you think to yourself over and over again. If you think about it long enough you’ll just say it eventually. But you don’t, it never comes out. In fact nothing really comes out. The room is filled with awkwardness, you feel it and shotaro does too. The kind of awkwardness that you’ve never felt with shotaro before and you don’t know how that makes you feel.

Well you know it doesn’t feel good, that’s for sure. You never wanted your relationship with wonbin to change your relationship with the rest of your friends and especially not Shotaro. But things happen, and it’s funny how they do. Because Shotaro was here first, you had a crush on him for the longest time, when did it change from you and Shotaro to you and wonbin.

“You missed it, everyone was making fun of Sohee and microwaves today.” Shotaro speaks up trying to cover the weird silence, but you don’t help when you only laugh lightly.

“Do you remember when he thought he had superpowers and could see at night.”

“And he fell down the stairs.” you finish his sentence off. “Yeah that was so funny. He’s so funny.”

It’s not as quiet anymore but god is it still really awkward. You know all of this could be solved if one of you addresses the elephant in the room, and you hoped it would be him because you just didn’t have the balls to do it.

“So…”

“Yeah.” you hurriedly speak, assuming what he’s going to say.

“There’s an art exhibit tomorrow happening near the school.” You can’t help the way your heart drops when he begins to talk. “I already got 2 tickets, hoping that maybe we could go together.”

“Fuck.” you think. That’s definitely not what you were expecting him to say, and now you’re trying your best to control your facial expression. This should’ve been the time for you to come clean, for you to just lay it all out. But you’re a coward, so instead you give him a small smile and agree to go on yet another date with him.

Was this cheating? You’re not sure but it’s definitely debatable. Going on a date with a friend that you knew was very into you while you had a boyfriend. But does it count if he wasn’t supposed to be your boyfriend in the first place?

It was wrong, that’s for sure. But to be honest, when have you done anything right? You see the way he leaves your apartment with a hopeful expression. Knowing that he’s gonna go back to his place and think about you.

And that’s the very thought that keeps you up all night.

“You look like shit.” Ningning says as she approaches you. She was right, you had bags under your eyes, you’d thrown on a random t-shirt and you didn’t even bother to fix your hair this morning.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry, I mean. Ooh you look like shit, what happened?” she says in a gentler, more sincere tone this time.

“I just couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Damn, ya’ll went all night?” she whispers this time.

“What? No. I just couldn’t sleep.” you choose to leave out all the details as to why you were up most of the night.

“Are you going through withdrawals?”

“Withdrawals?”

“You know…” she motions her arms into a humping motion “withdrawals.”

“Why is everything about sex with you?”

“I don’t know actually?” she turns her head to the side as she actually begins to think about your question.

“Anyways, what are you doing later today?”

“Shotaro and I are going to see the art exhibit?”

“You and Shotaro?” she asks with one eyebrow cocked up.

“Like a date?” she continues.

“I think that’s what he thinks.” you sigh.

“So, you still haven’t told him yet?”

“I just can’t find the right words.” your lips go into a pout.

“I’m. Fucking. Wonbin. Three words.” she says putting an emphasis on the first three words.

“It’s not that easy?” you throw your hands up.

“Okay so how are you going to tell wonbin?” she asks, referring to your date with Shotaro.

“Tell me what?” wonbin walks up behind you casually wrapping his arms around your waist and greeting your cheek with a kiss.

“Tell you about how much she loves you” Ningning gleams.

“That I have a date with Shotaro.” You state bluntly.

“A date?” he asks, pulling himself away from you.

“Well he thinks it's a date.” you add before he could get too upset.

“And I think it’s my time to go.” ningning says, pointing her thumb in another direction before sneaking off.

“Why does he think that?” Wonbin asks, and you could see that he was very obviously getting irritated.

You take your time to answer him, not knowing exactly how to put it.

“I haven’t told him… about us.. Yet.” you drag out, while playing with the hem of your shirt, and avoiding eye contact.

“And why not?”

“Well he asked me to be his girlfriend.” you admit looking to the side.

“And?”

“I still haven’t given him an answer?” you spill out yet another confession.

“Do you like him?”

“Not anymore.” you look up gaging his expression.

“Not anymore?”

“Well, to be honest. Shotaro had asked me to be his girlfriend, and he told me to think about it. And when I thought about it I figured that I should just be with him, because I didn’t think that you really cared about me so I went to text him but I accidentally texted you and now we're dating.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen. But I don’t like shotaro like that. I love you, it’s been you for a long time.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m really sorry wonbin, please understand.” you plead, reaching for his hand but he’s quick to snatch it away.

“Have fun with Shotaro, Y/N,” is all he says before he walks away.

Great, you looked and now you felt like shit. You really didn’t mean for any of this to happen, and now you don’t know what you’re gonna do. You also don’t know why it took this for you to realize just how much you really loved wonbin. Because seeing him pull his hand away from you and the pain in his eyes was enough to knock the wind right out of your lungs.

You’re walking with Shotaro through the exhibit seeing art that’d usually have you in awe, but at the moment you just don’t have enough energy to really care about the beautiful pieces in front of you. Just small hums here and there when shotaro expresses how interesting he thinks everything is. It only takes a few bland answers for him to finally stop you and ask what’s wrong.

“You seem down? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…”

“What’s wrong?”

Before you thought of Shotaro as a lover, he was your friend. You used to feel comfortable telling him anything, and you missed that. Really because right now, you could use your friend.

“Wonbin broke up with me.” you let out, and he pauses before he says anything.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” you say

“Okay?”

You wanna tell him everything, but you don’t know where to start. So, you start at the beginning. You tell him that the both of you have been seeing each other for months, you explain everything that happened after the festival, and you tell him about the contact slip up.

“Umm, wow.”

“I’m sorry I should’ve told you all of this sooner, I just didn’t wanna ruin anything.”

“So you like, really like Wonbin?”

“I do yeah.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Huh?”

“Go get him, go.” He rushes you off. And you listen to him, heading towards the exit with your phone in your hand, and Wonbin’s contact on your screen. You tried calling him a few times but it went directly to voicemail each time.

When calling doesn’t work you decide to just show up in front of his apartment. You had a game plan on the way there but everything went out of the window when you were standing there face to face with his door. You hold your hand up to knock but you don’t, instead you just keep your hand up contemplating if this is a good idea or not. After a few seconds you tap the door a few times with your knuckles and wait to see if he’ll answer the door.

When he doesn’t you knock again, and gasp when he opens the door on the second knock.

“What?” Is the single word that leaves his mouth when sees you.

“I told Shotaro about us,” You say quietly, hoping that it would be enough for him to forgive you.

“Us?” He questions, and that’s when you audibly hear your heart drop and shatter. Tears are threatening to fall and your hands begin tugging at your clothes.

“Please don’t do this Wonbin.” you cry.

“I’m only correcting the mistake you made.” He speaks bluntly showing no reaction to your tears.

“I already told you that I only want you. I only agreed to date him because I thought my feelings for you weren’t reciprocated.” you explain.

“How do you expect me to feel knowing that you never had intentions to be with me, knowing that you were going to choose him instead?”

“You can’t blame me for having my doubts,when before we got together you were flirting with every girl on the campus.”

“Only to get a reaction out of you.” he confesses

“Why would you do that?”

Wonbin had a horrible way of communicating, so rather than just telling you that he really wanted to be with you, he talked and entertained random innocent girls where he knew you could see him. Thinking that if you got upset you’d do something about it. Plus he loved seeing you get all mad and possessive over him.

“I don’t know, I just wanted to know how you felt.”

“I love you wonbin, god I really fucking love you. If you’re ever wondering how I feel just ask me. I hate seeing you with someone else-” You stop for a moment when you notice how he’s looking at you. His expression is very different from the one he had when he opened the door a few moments ago.

It’s softer now, he’s watching you like he can read the words that leave your lips. It's similar to the look he usually gives you when he's listening to you talk about something you care about, but this one is more intense.

“It makes me wanna rip my heart out of my chest.” you finish.

He’s not saying anything, and it scares you. Part of you wants to read his mind, find out what he’s thinking. And the rest of you? Well, you want to disappear.

“Please say something.” you almost whisper, feeling the urge to cry again after your first set of tears begin to dry.

Instead of saying anything he gradually gets closer to you while maintaining eye contact, and it has your heart racing because he still isn’t saying anything. The only time your heart calms is when he gently places his lips on yours and pulls you into his apartment by your waist.

This kiss feels different than all the other kisses you’ve shared, this time you didn’t feel like you were doing anything wrong, it was romantic and honest. Filled with passion and pure love, the kiss feels like the kisses described only in fairy tales.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” you ask when you break the kiss, smiling at his pink soft and swollen lips.

“I forgave you the second you knocked on the door.”

[diettwistup]

HALF OF YOU

PAIRINGS: tashi duncan x f!oc, art donaldson x f!oc, patrick zweig x f!oc

SUMMARY: No matter how bright Tashi Duncan shined, her best friend, Milan Mikaelson, wasn’t far behind. Though seeming second best, Milan would never let that define her career. Holding as much fame as Tashi, Milan encountered Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson. Would this encounter change the trajectory of her life, and would it completely alter her relationship with Tashi Duncan?

WARNINGS: challengers spoilers, reader is milan mikaelson, sexual situations, language, angst, plot alterations.

NOTES: hello lovely people! so excited to be back n finally posting this next chapter. i really hope you guys enjoy this, as it’s a little bit of a filler chapter to get ready for the juicy stuff. also i was a little lazy and didn't edit much, so mind any errors! hope you enjoy kisses n hugs xx 💋

WC: 4.3K

READ BEFORE THIS: INTRO, ONE, and TWO

CHAPTER 3: CRACK ME AND I’LL CRACK YOU

STANFORD DINING HALL , 2007 1:00 PM

My eyes scanned the dining hall and all the students grabbing late lunches. Taking out my phone, I looked down to read a text from Art.

“I’ve got a table by the window.” 

Looking up, I almost immediately saw his backward cap and blonde curls facing me as he looked out the window, hands bridged. 

Softly inhaling, I walked over to where he was, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. 

“Hi…” I softly spoke, making him turn around and flash me his signature lopsided grin. 

“Hey,” He started as I sat down across from him. “Such a beautiful day. I just had to get a window seat.” He nodded his head towards the view we had. 

Following his eyes, I saw our beautiful campus basking in the hot California sun. 

“It really is beautiful if you have the time to stop and stare.” I sighed as I stole a glance at Art’s side profile. 

I felt my breath catch in my throat solely from his features. They really were perfect, and that’s saying something. 

“Ready to eat?” He snapped his eyes back to me as I tried my best to play off staring at him, grabbing a piece of my hair. 

“Yeah!” I spurted out, too eager for my liking, as I quickly stood up, student ID in hand. “Let’s go…” I finished calmer as I brushed my hair out of my face. 

I heard him softly chuckle as we went to go get our food. 

Returning to the table, I sat my tray down, looked at my food, and grabbed a piece of my hair to play with. 

Again.

“So, I wanna hear everything about how your semester went.” I smiled and crossed my legs under the table. 

Shooting me a soft smile while opening his water bottle, Art locked his eyes onto mine. 

“It’s been rough. Lots of hard practices and tough classes, but like we said the other day, it’s all gonna be worth it.” He explained before taking a bite of his food. 

Picking up my fork and poking my salad, I tilted my head. “Have you and Pat been keeping in contact?” I questioned as I took a bite of my food. 

Nodding as he chewed, Art put his fork down. “Yeah, we talk all the time, and he’s visited a bunch,” he responded. 

I knew about the visits since Tashi always told me when she needed…alone time. 

“That’s fun,” I continued to eat my food before looking out the window. “Tashi said he’s coming for her match next week. We should all do something.” 

“I like that idea.” I could feel him smiling at me as my cheeks heated up. 

A comfortable silence befell us as we ate our food. Surprisingly, it was very enjoyable. I liked this. 

I liked Art. 

When we finished our food and returned our trays, Art shoved his hands in his pocket and looked at me, letting his eyes ask, "What's next." 

Smiling at him, I bit my bottom lip and parted my lips. “Since we didn’t talk much, I wondered if you wanted to return to my dorm. I have a single, so we wouldn’t have to worry about disturbing my roommate.” I spoke as I played with my fingers. 

I could practically feel the happiness radiating off of his smile as he simply nodded. 

“Lead the way.” He responded and extended his hand out for me to take. 

Softly laughing, I grabbed his hand and walked us to my dorm building. 

His hand feels good in mine.

Reaching my dorm, I turned to Art as I unlocked the door. 

“She may be messy, don’t judge.” I playfully scolded as I opened the door. 

“Don’t worry, if yours is bad, mine is worse.” He laughed and followed me into my room. 

I closed the door behind us and put my keys down on my desk as I watched Art look around my room. 

Sitting down on my bed, I took off my shoes and moved my legs up to sit with them crossed. 

“This is cute,” Art said as he turned around and showed that he was holding a framed photo of Tashi and me from third grade. 

Tashi and I were standing back to back with our arms crossed, both making the silliest faces we could muster. Tennis rackets were in our hands, which you swear were bigger than us. We had just won our first of many doubles matches. 

Softly laughing, I stood up and took the photo from him, staring at it with a fond smile. 

“We were so young…” I whispered softly as I studied the photo. Art’s head was right above my shoulder, and I was looking down at the photo as well. 

“You never told Patrick and me about how you and Tashi met,” he said in my ear as I placed the photo back on my desk. 

Sitting back down on my bed, I patted the area next to me with a smile. “Come sit, and I’ll spill my guts.” I chuckled as he moved to sit next to me, taking his hat off and handing it to me to place on my desk. 

“Do I need to sell my soul for this information?” He joked and ran a hand through his hair while I rolled my eyes and gently hit his knee. 

“Shut up…” I chuckled before moving my hair behind my shoulder. 

“Tashi and I have known each other all our lives, really.” I started smiling at the memory of young Tashi and me. “Our mothers were friends, so we were bound to be just like them.” I laughed to myself, looking down at my hands. 

“I feel like we’ve been playing tennis since we were both able to walk,” I smirked as I looked at Art, who was hanging onto every word I spoke.  

He simply nodded to show that he was listening, a smirk widening at every new fact.

“We were doubles partners for years before we decided to play singles for better recruitment chances, and here we are.” I shrugged at this, looking at the photo on my desk while a lazy smile played on my features. 

All Art did for a moment was stare at me with a slight smile.

I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that. 

Quickly running a hand through his hair, he laughed softly before looking back at me. 

“I can’t say I’m shocked.” He smiles before flickering his eyes back to the picture of Tashi and me on my desk. “You two have something special.” He finishes and looks back at me. 

“Look who's talking,” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and responded. “You and Patrick have one of the most genuine friendships I’ve ever seen.” I smiled as Art adjusted himself, our knees now touching. 

“Please,” He laughed and shook his head. “Patrick and I are more brothers than friends.” He smirked. 

“Exactly!” I exclaimed and subconsciously moved closer to Art. “That’s what I love about you two. I can tell you really care about him.” I tilted my head with a gentle smile as I placed my hand on his thigh. 

Art glanced down at my hand as my face instantly turned red.

“I’m sorry-“ I began as I retracted my hand, but Art stopped me by grabbing my wrist and staring right into my eyes. 

“No, it’s okay.” He spoke, eyes piercing into my entire being: soul, body, and all. As he held my wrists, his thumb softly caressed the sensitive skin of my palm. 

Biting my bottom lip softly, I turned my head to look out the window as my stomach churned. 

“So,” I began as I bit the inside of my cheek. “I’m glad you texted me…” I softly spoke, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Wow,” He started and shook his head slowly with a smirk. 

Tilting my head, I furrowed my brows and looked at him through my eyelashes. 

“What…?” I asked as I gnawed my bottom lip, and my face heated up. 

He threw his hands up in defense and let out a chuckle as he stared at me. 

“Never did I ever think that Milan Mikaelson would express any sort of feeling without having an attitude.” He laughed as my mouth dropped, and I chuckled before leaning in and smacking his arm. 

“You’re such an asshole!” I laughed, not realizing how close our faces were. 

He shrugged with a smirk before moving his hand to play with the sleeve of my hoodie. 

I watched him do this, eyes trained on his fingers before flickering to the roughness of his calloused hands. Sure, I had them, too, but for some reason, seeing him made me smile at all his hard work and dedication to tennis. 

“I told Pat about this.” He chimed and snapped me out of my thoughts, pointing between the two of us to signify that there was now an us. 

“I think he’s more happy than I am about this.” He laughed and rolled his eyes.

I turned my head to look back out at the window as I softly laughed. 

“Yeah, I told Tash,” I responded before looking back at him, his smile growing wider. “She was surprisingly chill about it.” I laughed as I thought of Tashi’s stubborn nature. 

Moving his hand from my sweatshirt to my thigh, Art smirked even wider at me. 

That damn smirk. 

“See, I told you they wouldn’t give a fuck.” He chuckled and patted my thigh. 

Rolling my eyes, I clicked my tongue and looked back at him. 

“Hey, I was just playing it safe!” I explained in defense as I leaned my head closer to his to counteract his smug expression. 

“When is playing safe ever fun?” he replied and leaned in, grinning from ear to ear. 

My mind trailed back to the hotel as I remembered the harsh eye contact between us when Tashi and I first arrived. This moment seems to be teleporting me back in time. 

Returning to my senses, I noticed that Art’s hand had moved from my thigh to my waist, and our noses were almost touching. 

“Art…” I whispered, almost warning him about what we were about to do.

He only learned more until his lips ghosted mine. 

“There’s nothing to worry about…they’re fine with it, remember?” He reassured me and moved a hand to cup my cheek, rubbing it with his thumb out of comfort. 

He was right. We can do whatever we want…I know we both wanted this. 

Softly laughing and smiling widely at this realization, I quickly pressed my lips to his and wrapped my arms around his neck. 

He, of course, kissed back instantly as his hands moved to the base of my neck. 

I could practically taste his smirk against my lips as I parted my lips to give him access. 

Swiping my tongue across his, I laced my fingers into his hair and gently tugged the blonde tuffs. All he could do was softly groan into my mouth before pushing me back gently on the bed to let me lay on my pillow. 

I smiled at this as I moved my leg to wrap around his torso and push my heel into his back to push him further down, whining at the slight friction below. 

I was almost totally lost in the kiss before Art pulled away after biting my bottom lip to catch his breath.

Panting softly, I raised a hand to brush a piece out of his face, softly humming to myself. 

“I really want to get lost in you, but I’m refraining myself because I want to show you that I’m all in. I don’t want a one-time thing.” He spoke breathlessly as he leaned down to press a kiss to my cheek and gently pick me up so that I lay on his chest. 

“I want us to happen. I need us to happen.” He continued into my hair as he gripped me closer, hands under my shirt, tracing shapes on my bare stomach. 

Smiling and closing my eyes, I moved my hands to play with his. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard something more perfect.” I laughed and buried my head more into his chest before continuing, voice quiet. 

“This is exactly what I want. Everything I need.”

NEXT WEEK- STANFORD DORMS 2007, 10:00 AM

“Are you excited?” I smirked as I sat with my head dangling off of Tashi’s bed, hands resting on my stomach. 

“Excited? Yeah, excited to beat that Pepperdine bitch.” Tashi finished as she sat at her desk and did her skincare. 

Scoffing, I turned my body around to sit upright on her bed. 

“Um, I was talking about Patrick coming…” I laughed with a subtle eye roll as I rested my chin on my palm.

“Oh,” Was all she said as she looked at her skin closely in her mirror. 

I fell back on her bed with a chuckle as I stared at her ceiling. 

“What about Art? How’s that going?” She chimed, grin so wide I could practically hear it. 

I blushed at the mention of his name and turned my head to face her, hair falling into my face. 

“It’s been good,” I smiled like a child as I thought about last week with Art. 

We’d been taking it slow to really get to know each other. Finding time in our hectic schedules was definitely a challenge, but we were both up for it. 

All I heard was Tashi snorting before standing up from her desk and moving to sit next to me on the bed. 

“I’m happy for you,” She smiled and draped her body over mine as I let out a laugh with protests for her to get off of me. 

Times like this made me wish that Tashi and I didn’t have to worry about the future. We could perpetually live in certain moments where we would only show certain sides of ourselves to each other. It was refreshing, really. 

Laying next to her, I grinned and brushed my hair out of my face. 

“The four of us should do something after your match. Maybe grab dinner off campus or something.” I thought out loud as I grabbed one of Tashi’s stuffed animals to lie with. 

Shrugging, Tashi sat up next to my head and pulled a blanket over herself. 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” she nodded before letting a smirk break out. Just think, this will be the first time the four of us have been together since the hotel.” I saw her eyes flicker with mischief.

Sitting up quickly, I gently pushed her off the bed as we both burst into laughter. 

“That night was fucked!” I laughed as I crawled to the edge of the bed to see her sprawled out beneath me, clutching her stomach as she continued to laugh. 

“Hey, but it brought both of us two attractive men who play the same sport as us!” She quipped before grabbing my arm and pulling me off the bed, laughing through her words. 

She does have a point. 

As we continued to laugh momentarily, I softly sighed and sat up, brushing my shirt off. 

“Well, I should get going. I want to grab something to eat before I go to study before your match,” I said as I stood up and walked to my backpack and shoes. Plus, I know you’ll want to have some alone time with Pat.” I smirked and raised my eyebrows at her as I bent down to put my shoes on. 

“Fuck off.” She laughed and kicked my foot as I cursed her out and threw one of her stuffed animals at her. 

“You’re being defensive because you know I’m right.” I stuck my tongue out at her before quickly putting on my shoes, fixing my outfit, and slinging my backpack over my shoulder so Tashi couldn’t throw anything back at me. 

“Love you!” I yelled as I ran out the door, only catching a glimpse of her shooting me the middle finger. 

Smiling to myself, I quickly made my way to the dining hall, not wanting to waste any time so I could get ample studying in before Tashi’s match. 

Reaching a hand up to my mouth, I bit my nails as I entered the dining hall, looking around to see if I knew anyone. 

Shockingly enough, Art and Patrick were sitting by the window, eating churros and talking about something. 

I decided to get my food before heading over, just in case I got caught in a long conversation. 

It’s happened with them before, who said it wouldn't happen again? 

Grabbing my food quickly, might I add, I walked over to the boys with a small smile. 

Patrick was the first to spot me, expression turning to a wide smile as he waved. 

This caused Art to look at who his friend was waving to, and his face immediately lit up when he saw me. 

How sweet. 

“Mila!” Patrick exclaimed as he got up from his stool and hugged me. “How’ve been?” He asked while I hugged back, laughing softly. 

“Awe, Pat, good to see ya,” I smiled before letting go of the hug. “I’ve been decent, pushing through.” I laughed and placed my food next to Art.

“Hi,” I whispered to Art while he wrapped an arm around my waist below my backpack and smiled at me. 

“Hi,” He responded with a lopsided grin and whispered softly. “You look good today,” He patted my waist while I gently chuckled. 

“How about you, Pat? How's the tour?” I angled my attention back to Patrick, who looked between Art and me with a knowing grin. 

“It's been great. I've learned a lot of things and am getting better every day.” He nodded and crossed his arms with his signature smirk. 

I smiled at this, genuinely happy for his success. I never really took much time to get to know Patrick, but I knew he was a good guy. He and Tashi made a good couple, and I know he was treating her right, which is all I cared about. 

“Well,” I began, patting Art’s arm, then grabbing my food. I have a huge test to study for, and I want to get a lot done before Tashi’s match, so I’ll see you two there?” I pointed between them, already knowing the answer. 

“You know it,” Patrick smirked before sitting back down on his stool and shot  Art a very large smirk. 

“Yup, I’ll text you.” Art smiled and moved in to press a small peck on my cheek, making my face heat up.

Well, that’s new. 

Laughing softly, I waved to both of the boys as I yelled, “Let's get dinner tonight with Tashi!” before making my way to the library. 

Something tells me that today is gonna be a great day.

STANFORD TENNIS COURTS - 2007, 1:00 PM

The walk from the library to the tennis courts was never something that I had never done before and was never something that I would do again. 

My legs were about to give out any moment, and you would think they would be strong from years of training, but when you’re carrying a backpack with textbooks, notebooks, multiple papers, and more, your abilities are truly tested. 

As I reached the bleachers, I walked up and sat near the middle, discarding my backpack and letting out a groan. 

“Tashi Duncan, you’re glad I love you,” I told myself as I pulled my phone out to text Art that I had seats for him and Patrick. 

After a bit of waiting and looking over my notes to get a little extra studying in, Art showed up, startling me as he pulled my notes out of my lap. 

“Hey, give that back,” I protested, staring at him through my lashes. 

“Hm,” he started before sitting next to me and skimming my notes, pretending to know what he was looking at. 

“The importance of oxygen in oxidative phosphorylation? Who wouldn’t know that?” He pointed to my section in the notes as I laughed and took them before putting them in my backpack. 

“The day you can explain cellular respiration, you can put a ring on it.” I joked as I zipped up my backpack. 

“Well, I guess there will be no marriage anytime soon.” He pretended to sound extremely disappointed before looking at the court.  

Rolling my eyes, I stared at him in confusion as I realized his partner in crime was nowhere to be seen. 

“Where’s Pat?” I asked as I rested my chin on my hand. 

All Art did was shrug and look back at me. “He went to Tashi’s dorm a bit after you left and told me he would meet me here.” He explained and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Hm, I see.” I slowly spoke as Tashi exited the locker rooms, the crowd cheering. Maybe you should send him a text,” I added as I looked back at Art.

“Yeah, let’s see.” He responded as he pulled out his phone and quickly texted Patrick. 

Not even a full ten seconds later, Patrick had responded.

“Well fuck,” Art said as he read the text. “He said they got into a big fight, and he’s not coming.” He sighed as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“Shit, that’s not good,” I spoke as I reached a hand up to my mouth and bit one of my nails. “Thank God Tashi knows how to lock in.” I continued and watched her stretch and warm up. 

Humming in response, Art’s eyes were focused on Tashi just as mine had been. 

I shook my head at the thought of Patrick and Tashi's fight. The match began, and Tashi started off perfectly, as usual. 

The crowd roared as she continued to score over and over again, strides faultlessly, obviously not letting the fight with Patrick get to her. 

When Tashi set the next ball, the volley with her opponent went down momentarily. I watched in awe as she strategically moved across the entire court, hitting the ball back with great force. 

“Come on, Tash!” I yelled as the crowd roared with me. 

“She’s really on point today,” I glanced at Art and spoke before my eyes locked back onto Tashi.

“I know, she’s so-“

CRACK

“Oh my god…” I gasped and stood up as I covered my mouth in horror while Art shot up, eyes wide.

Tashi was on the ground, thrashing and crying out in pain. Her screams wracked throughout the stadium as she gripped her knee.

“Fuck, Art, we gotta go,” I exclaimed and, without hesitation, sprinted down the bleachers, jumping over the fence and net with Art over to Tashi.

“Tash, hey, it’s gonna be okay…” I calmly spoke as I moved her head into my lap. Art grabbed her hand and rubbed it soothingly.

Moving her hair out of her face, I whispered softly down at her. All she did was cry and squirm back and forth, blubbering about her knee and how badly it hurt. 

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay, everything is gonna be okay,” I whispered as I wiped her tears away before glancing at Art, who was looking at me with a worried expression. 

Biting my lip out of anxiety, I looked back down at Tashi as she cried and turned her head to hide her face in my thigh.

Shit. 

STANFORD INFIRMARY - 2007, 2:00 PM  

Complete and utter silence filled our end of the infirmary as Tashi sat on a stretcher between Art and me. 

No one dared open their mouths while we listened to the physicians and tennis coach speak hushedly.

I knew this was going to break Tashi. She would never let anyone know that even me, but an injury like this is something that could severely affect her future. I reached a hand up to my mouth to bite my nails in anticipation of her exact diagnosis. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” A rushed and exasperated voice sounded from the doorway. Looking up, my eyes locked with Patrick’s as Tashi started to yell at him. 

“Get out,” She warned before raising her voice to scream when he wouldn’t listen. “GET OUT!” She spat and threw her entire body to point at him to get out. 

Patrick continued to protest, wanting to explain himself and apologize as his eyes darted between us, looking for some forgiveness. 

“Patrick, get the fuck out!” Art yelled when Patrick went to step closer to us while I closed my eyes, shook my head, and furrowed my brows. 

Why the fuck was HE yelling?

Crossing my arms and biting my lip, I sadly looked up at Patrick as I spoke softly. 

“Pat, I think you should leave.” I softly whispered, his eyes burning into my being. 

If Tashi wants him gone, he should go. 

All I was met with was his defeated eyes, pleading for this not to be serious. I turned my head away from him, and he finally nodded in disappointment and left. 

Sucking in a breath, I turned my body back to Tashi and moved to grab her hand, softly gripping it while she did the same back, her gaze pointing forward. 

Looking back up at Art, he only stared into space with a piercing expression. 

Sighing softly, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall. 

So much for today being a great day.

[mint-yooxgi]

{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.”

[waterfire1848]

Fire Family Freaky Friday AU

Zuko <--> Ozai

Azula <--> Ursa

Hello, @jn3m0 !!!! (Side note but @stardust948 and I wrote a bit on this exact idea and they made two amazing pieces of art for this so you should go look at those 😁).

1. Most of canon still happens, the only difference is that Ursa remains but she does still kill Azulon and Iroh is still away on his spirit mission. As time goes on, Ursa starts to notice how bad their family has gotten. She can’t help but remember the good days when they would go to Ember Island and be an actual happy family but it seems like there’s nothing that can be done anymore. Ozai is still craving more power, even though he’s Fire Lord, Azula (10) and Zuko (12) are still competing, Zuko is chasing after Ozai’s approval which it seems like he’ll never get and her and Azula’s relationship is strained to say the best. One night, Ursa tells Ozai that she wishes their family could be closer. When Ozai refuses to hear her, she decides to sleep in another room to avoid a fight. That night, a random trickster spirit happened to be listening and decided to have some fun with an ill worded wish.

2. Cue the panic the next morning. Zuko is the first to wake up because he’s now the strongest firebender and screams so loud (because I think that’s most people’s responses when they wake up in the wrong body) that he wakes Azula, who’s staying next door, up as well. (Azula: ZUZU! Shut up! Zuko, running into the other room because he thinks Azula is there but sees Ursa: Mom? Did you just call me Zuzu? Azula: Did you hit your head, dum-dum? I’m not mom. What-Father! I-I slept in! Give me a few moments and I’ll- Zuko: Azula? Azula: It won’t happen again. I promise. Zuko: A-Azula? Azula:….Yes? Zuko: Look in the mirror. Azula: What? Father, what are you-…AHHHHHH!!!) It takes them a few minutes to get everything straight but in that time they also realize that if they’re here then their parents must be in their bodies. Of course more freaking out ensues but, finally, the family calms down enough to actually talk. (Ozai: Your wish! You did this! Ursa: Not this! I didn’t mean for this to happen! Azula: Why are you complaining? I’m the one stuck in this powerless body. Ursa: Young lady- Azula: I think you’re the young lady now. Ursa: Azula! I am still your mother! You will not speak to me this way! Azula: How can you be my mother when you're two feet shorter than me now. Ursa: Ozai! Talk to your daughter! Zuko: This isn’t going to end well.)

3. To avoid detection, the family decides to act as if nothing is wrong. Ozai and Ursa attend their children’s training and tutor sessions, Azula gets started with Ursa’s daily tasks as Fire Lady and Zuko attends Ozai’s meeting as Fire Lord. (Can you believe that things go horribly very very fast?) Not only do Ozai and Ursa hate being the younger ones now, but they're both struggling with firebending lessons as well. Although for two different reasons. (Ozai: Ursa! Woah! Ursa: Sorry! I can’t control her fire. I don’t know how Azula does it. Ozai: Yeah, no kidding. You set half the garden on fire. Ursa: At least I’m making fire. You’ve hardly been able to do anything! Ozai: I know….maybe Zuko wasn’t as lazy as I believed. Ursa: I’ve seen our son train and lazy is hardly what I would describe him as. *Tries to simply point at Ozai and sends a blast of fire out of her finger* Ozai: And Azula has more discipline than you could ever know. Ursa:….Maybe we both need this).

4. Meanwhile, Zuko is struggling with keeping up with his father’s meetings and Azula is struggling with her mother’s list of duties. Zuko is flat out understanding nothing because he’s been so focused on his firebending that he hasn’t taken the time to really study much else. He has to find Azula after every meeting so she can explain to him what the generals said. (Zuko: Azula, councilman Raiko said we should increase funds to the-Woah! Azula, drowning in papers: Don’t say a word! Zuko: Are you okay? Azula: Everything needs the Fire Lady’s sign of approval. I have to sign off hundreds of documents, plan for our next dinner with hundreds of different councilmen and- Zuko: Do you need help? Azula: Were you not just coming in here to ask for my help, Zuzu? Zuko: Don’t call me that while you’re in our mother’s body. Azula: Don’t remind me I’m in her body. I thought mom just sat around all day. Zuko: She is Fire Lady. Why would you think that? Azula, shrugging: I don’t know. What about you? Being Fire Lord as fun as you imagined? Zuko: I don’t know how father does hit someone with a chair every day. Azula: Zuzu- Zuko: 😑 Azula: What are we supposed to do about the dinner in a week? Zuko:........ Azula: Zuko? Zuko: Panic.)

5. A week goes by with the family stuck in each others bodies. As time goes on, they do start to learn more and more about each other. It slow, but there is some progress. Azula catches Ursa struggling with bending and helps her out, Ursa notices that Azula doesn't know how to do her hair and helps her (even if she does have to stand on a stool to reach her head), Ozai gives Zuko some scrolls to help him with firebending and some points for how to deal with the councilmen and Zuko shows Ozai a couple tricks he learned from Iroh. It's certainly not easy but there are some really nice moments. As stated above, there is a dinner with the Royal Family and all the members of the noble class. The family get together before hand to talk about what they have to do to survive the night. As long as they stay silent and give simple answers they should be fine (they hope). Zuko goes in first with Azula behind him next to Ozai and Ursa. It's expected that Zuko, being in the Fire Lord's body, walks around and talks more than Ursa or Azula does. Most of the night goes on without any issues, Azula knows how to talk to members of nobility so she does a decent job in Ursa's body and, with Ozai next to him, Zuko does a good job being the Fire Lord. Then a councilman, who is very drunk, comes up to Zuko. (Councilman: Fire Lord! Ozai: Not again. Zuko: Again? Ozai: He always gets drunk at these events. Councilman: So good to see you! And Prince Zuko! Finally left mom's side, huh? Ozai: Yes, well, it was time. Councilman: I'll say. I think your old man here was worried that you'd never actually step into your prince- Ozai: I think that's good! We don't need to hear anymore. Zuko, coldly: Yeah. We don't. *Walks off.*) Zuko disappears for the rest of the night, leaving Azula to end the night and the family to go looking for him. They find him in one of the hidden rooms in the palace. The family get to have a little heart to heart where they finally talk about the past week but also how everything has changed in the last few years. It's not a full healing session but it's the most they've talked about these issues. The four fall asleep in the hidden room and wake up back to normal the next day.

[zu-is-here]

Seeing all the posts on Aim and Axel’s little family makes me SO happy, and I love following your posts in general Zu ❤️

Considering Anko has found himself wrapped up in the whole family lore and making art is time consuming, I’ll post some info for you and others to see on Anko !

Anko Info Time :

- Anko is a pretty knowledgeable child… but only on things that wouldn’t help you in every day life. He knows the exact lines of his favourite moments on his favourite show, he know a LOT about astronomy, and his interests for manga is a bit worrying.

- He definitely appears surprisingly shy to stranger , hiding behind adults he know of.

- Once you get to know him, he’s a smartass goofball !! He especially acts like one with his little sister Eve, going as far as to have one day offered her a cool rock he found that made him think of her.

- In term of personality, when he’s comfortable he’s very curious. Anko loves to learn ! But he’d get sick of learning in school.

- Anko sometimes stares into nothingness, does he see something ? Who knows. When he was a very young kid, he insisted he saw a cat following him around.

- As a last note, Anko was thought to have no powers until a certain event. ( which I’ll try drawing ! )

Thank you for reading, and check out Zu’s other post if you see this !

Anko's official appearance! (*ﾟ∀ﾟ*)☆

It's my pleasure, Groovy, I'm really happy to hear it and see you joining the fun <3

Thank you for sharing more facts about him! *^* He's a really unique boy, and it's a great fortune that he united his parents and made them a family (*´꒳`*)♡