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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x FWB!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader

Summary: Simon is getting more and more obsessed with his little friend who constantly finds herself in his bed. But when you are off on a quick mission for a few weeks, Simon begins to grow restless and this no strings attached messing around finds itself being turned on its head. What happens when you get a text from him the day you get back, in the middle of the day?

Word Count: 4.8 k

Warnings:

Part 1:

Late Night Texts

Whatever spell you had cast, whatever potion you had had the Lieutenant drink down he didn’t know, but there had to be some preternatural reason that he could not get enough of you no matter how much he had. You were in his very veins, in the marrow of his bones, in the crevasses of his brain; he was completely head over heels for you and it was only growing by the day.

Your visits to his room under the shroud of darkness were becoming almost nightly at this point, his texts popping up so frequent that no matter when your phone vibrated after dark, you knew it would be him asking if you were on your way over back to his quarters. There was no complaints, however, as you could not get enough of his very particular brand of ecstasy.

You both were in so deep that it was becoming more than just an occasional hook up now and that was only demonstrated more when one night after another round of steamy hot body parts interlocking in that specific way that led to both of you experiencing that little death, he made a request of you that you had not expected.

“What?” you asked as Ghost stared back as you, brow furrowed and mouth contorted as if he were deep in thought while he lay beside you in the bed.

That stoic man knew that what he was going to ask you was going to sound obsessive, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to deny himself just to save face; as if his nightly texts weren’t already making him look like a lust-drunk teen. Ever since he hit it that first time, he had not been the same and it only compounded each time he got it until whatever composure he had flew away.

“I… need ya to keep your phone on ya at all times,” he said.

You weren’t one to always keep your phone with you outside of your barracks, not unless you were off duty or it was after hours. It was a nuisance to constantly be drawn to look at it when you were busy and you hated being controlled by it, but the moment he told you to keep it on you there was nothing else for you to do; you had to comply.

“Keep it on vibrate,” he continued, “in case I need to reach ya.”

You smirked. “Strictly military business, correct?”

A deep roll of his eyes met your sarcasm. “Ya fuckin’ know what it’s for,” he said with an incredulous shake of his head.

“Fine…I can do that,” you played with a wink.

A large hand roughly palmed your cheek, eyes drifting over the features of your face as the need to kiss you again grew unbearable. “You did say ya wanted to be my problem, yeah? Well, now ya have to be the solution too.”

“Who said I didn’t want to?”

“Good girl,” he praised before pulling you forward into him once again. “Good girl.”

It was only a couple of days since you had strictly been carrying around that small rectangular object in your pocket at all times when the Lieutenant finally utilized it, making you meet him in the ammunition depot for a quickie during lunch. There was no time to waste as he pulled you inside and immediately got to work, having you coming faster than you thought you’d be able to, mostly from the rush of the forbidden nature of this lewd bit of sneaking around. How you were both able to get in and out in such an easy manner was astounding, but Ghost did have rank on the base so you were sure he had pulled a few strings to make such a filthy thing possible.

It seemed like you both were living on cloud fucking nine, but as life always tends to do nothing can ever be that simple.

As if to shake up your lives, a wrench got thrown into everything. A mission, close to just over a month, was assigned to your squad and there was nothing you could do but leave behind your prefect situation to go out into the field.

“Keep your phone with ya,” he reminded you and you did.

Week one of your departure wasn’t so bad; Ghost was able to distract himself enough that he was able to at least get through the day without thinking about you constantly. He took on more work, volunteered his time, anything to keep him busy until he was too tired to do anything other than head back to his quarters and pass out.

Then week two hit and he started to feel your absence. It began small, his mind would wander to his phone, trying to think up some sort of message he could send you that wouldn’t make him sound too desperate. He’d ask about how things were going, if the weather there was just as shit as back at base, just random things to hear from you. And he realized that his heart would skip a beat each time his phone vibrated, thinking it was you.

By the last week before your return, he could hardly keep still. Fuck he needed you more than he needed food or sleep, he pined for your company again as a starving man pines for food. His hand would never do to satisfy him like you did and it frustrated him that he could not focus because his cock was constantly straining against the barrier of his pants and his body craved to feel your own against it. Every day he checked to see if your squad had returned and each day there was nothing made his heart sink into his feet.

On the other end you were faring just as badly. You did your job just as you were supposed to, keeping your focus mostly on the task at hand, but when you had those moments of freedom it was spent on thinking about the countless nights you had spent in his company already and how you genuinely missed being in his presence as was what you had grown accustomed to.

Things were only made worse when he would text you, drawing attention to the fact that you were separated for the immediate future. Each day droned on and on in endless fashion until you were able to check your phone and see the scant few texts from him that had you holding on until you could be filled with him once again.

And yet it was more than that…though you didn’t know if you could admit it yet. Secret worries crept in that made your mind misfire with fears that he could possibly have moved on in your absence, those anxieties lacing themselves within your bodies need for him, and by the time you and your squad finally were able to return to base you were a wreck. The moment you stepped foot back on home turf you were acutely aware of everything and you wondered with palpating heart just where your lover was.

The team had returned around midday and that meant everyone was given a couple hours for lunch before debriefing would begin. A few of your mates had wrangled you into eating with them and though you hesitated at first, ultimately you gave in. Checking your phone and not seeing anything popping up on the screen sealed the deal; at least they would offer a distraction until you could find a second to see Ghost again.

About half an hour in, your phone buzzed in your pocket as you took another bite of your lunch. Ignoring it as to not be suspicious, you focused back on the conversation happening in front of you until it went off again and again in rapid succession, clearly trying to get your attention and fast.

Discreetly as you could under the table, you pulled the small rectangle out of your pocket and checked the lock screen as your heartbeat was in your ears. Three short texts glared back at you, simple and easy to read in a hurry.

My office.

Now.

Don’t wait.

You hadn’t even read the name of the sender, but you already knew who it was beckoning you in the middle of the day; there was only one who would be desperate enough to risk getting caught like this, but you weren’t about to deny him. It had been long enough you two had been apart that you had to see him again that instant.

Omw

You quickly sent back and in an instant there was a reply.

Got five minutes to get here.

Making up some bullshit excuse to break away from your group, you rushed out of the mess hall and towards the officer’s building that housed their private offices. Your steps were quick, but metered in such a way as not to draw any unwanted attention; no sense in causing yourself to waste time by getting caught up with someone asking where it was you were off to in such a hurry, especially when debriefing was happening so soon.

There was tightness in your chest as time seemed to slow down to an agonizing crawl. Logically you knew that you were almost there, but even with the building looming on the near horizon, it still seemed to take forever to reach it and all you desperately wanted to do was get to him as quick as you could.

The cool air of the officer’s building hit you and you could feel a shiver vibrate through your body; when had you gotten so warm? No time to analyze that as you had more important things to focus on.

You had been inside the building a few times, but never to Ghost’s office in particular and so it took you a minute to locate the room that had his nameplate on the door. Stepping up to the last barrier you both had between you, your heart leap violently in your chest as you raise a balled fist to the wood.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of knuckles tapping on wood sounded through the small office and Ghost looked up just as the door was cracked open and his breath hitched when his eyes met your face that had just appeared through to the other side.

“You needed to see me sir?” you asked, blood pressure rising and heartbeat thudding wildly inside your chest; you had to keep up appearances to anyone who might be passing by, but you wanted nothing more than to just sprint straight to him and shred his fatigues from his perfectly sculpted body.

Ghost was on his feet in an instant, his pulse now racing liquid hot through his veins at the very sight of you suddenly before him again; he was already on edge the moment he had learned you were back as he waited for a free second in his busy day to call you to him. Now seeing you here in front of him again after such a profound gap of time spent apart sent him into a tailspin.

“Come in and shut the door, private, we need to have a chat,” he ordered roughly, playing his part effortlessly, and you did so without having to be told any more than that.

As soon as he heard the door latch he was on his feet, crossing the length of the room with quick steps that matched his accelerated breathing as he ripped his balaclava up and over his head to discard it somewhere on the floor. “Lock it,” he said abruptly and you immediately followed orders.

You turned back around and Ghost was on you before you could move further, closing his eyes and leaning in with his mouth to immediately connect your lips ferociously together before any of your other parts could touch yet. You had to be quick, there was no guarantee of how much free time you would have before someone could come around, but still he had to take a moment to enjoy that initial reunion of your mouths. Face pressed snugly against the contours of your own, wet, sloppy mouths crushed together in waves of aggressively frantic kisses as if he had completely forgotten the taste of your lips and it had been torturing him to insanity.

His hand moved out from his side and searched for yours until he found it, interlocking those long digits in the empty spaces between your own. Even in the fiery desperation with which he devoured your lips embraces, his touch was still incredibly tender as his hand stayed locked in yours.

“Goddammit, I missed you, luv,” he groaned through pauses in your mouths connection. “Missed you so fuckin’ much I couldn’t stand it. The second I got wind you were back, I couldn’t wait…had to see ya now.”

Your lungs begged for air, but you couldn’t tell him to stop as his free hand locked on to the back of your neck to force your face even harder against his mouth; he was trying to drown in you and you didn’t want him to stop, even with his roughness causing your lips to swell hot and sensitive from the pressure.

“God, sweetheart, how I’ve missed these fuckin’ lips,” he grunted in hushed whispers into your open mouth as his forehead rocked on yours. His cock was straining harshly against the zipper of his pants, tenting the fabric as he ground it into the muscle of your thigh. “Can’t stand bein’ away from ya at all anymore. I was in agony waitin’ for ya to return.”

Your chest tightened while your stomach plunged into your shoes; his need was overwhelming and intense as if it could swallow you whole and fuck were you ready to let it. Rough fingers squeezed down on your hand, using it as a way to ground himself to stop from being ripped apart with the strength of his desire. Your bodies were so close you swore he was trying to fuse you both together.

“Wish I had more time, I wanna suck on those fuckin’ juicy tits of yours so fuckin’ bad,” he groaned as the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest caught his attention. “Been missin’ those too. Shit, I’ll be honest, there ain’t a part of ya I haven’t been cravin’ like crazy, baby.”

Acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, you reached towards him with your free hand and latched on to his belt, pulling at the hindrance as if you could will it off without having to use any of the fine motor skills that you currently did not have access to as you slipped into that primal state of knowing nothing else other than to satiate the throbbing between your thighs.

Your fingers grazed the tip of his cock through the fabric of his pants and he hissed, his torso contracting from the intensity of that first contact; he had become engorged so quickly that it was painfully sensitive to the touch.

Ghost released your hand to reach over to your own belt, still enough faculty available to him to go about undressing you, though that was quickly waning as your own neediness fueled even more of his desperation for you. “I need ta be inside of ya, luv,” he breathed, resting up against the side of your cheek. “Need it so fuckin’ bad I can almost taste it.”

A light jingling hit your ears as he unlocked your belt from itself and let it fall loosely to hang in the belt loops as he moved on to the button and zipper, undoing them just as easily before everything was shoved down to the floor in one swift motion. His hand moved on top of yours still clinging to the band around his waist, guiding the unsteady fingers on your hand to make you undo the buckle yourself.

The backside of your hand pressed against the soft skin of his pelvis as you slipped inside the waistband of his pants to undo them and shit was he boiling. “Take it out,” he groaned as you got the damned button to release.

A jolt like an electrical current ran through him, shivering up the length of his spine as you plunged those silky soft palms within the confines of his pants and caught his rock hard member in your grasp. Unconsciously his hips bucked into your hand as you situated him so that he was now outside the fabric.

With your hand wrapped around the girth of his cock, you could not stop the urge to stroke the length of it. It pulsed and jolted against the skin of your palm as you worked it up and down and a tiny, almost imperceptible whimper escaped his lips as Ghost unraveled at your touch. All that pent up frustration that had plagued him for the past month and some change burst at the seams and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Can’t wait; I have to make you cum, right fuckin’ now,” he said, the agony pervasive in his gravely, low tone.

Grabbing you by the hand Ghost drug you the short distance across the room to his desk, spinning you so that your back was to it. With his hand under your arms he picked you up and set you on the surface, not caring about the papers currently strewn about across the top that now lay under the padding of your bare ass.

Scooting so that you were at the very edge of the tabletop, you immediately spread your legs open wide, only wanting to feel him and not wanting to waste even a second more of time where you both were not connected. He took the invitation to move in, placing his hand on your sex to check how ready you were for him; there was moistness against his palm, but he wanted to be sure you were well lubricated.

There was no more time to wait so he would have to improvise just to be certain you were wet enough; the last thing he would ever want to do was hurt you. Gathering all the saliva he could in his mouth, he spit into his hand and quickly coated the area thoroughly. Your legs twitched from his fingers rubbing up against your sensitive clit as he went. “I fuckin’ swear we’ll do this proper later, just gotta be quick this time,” he reassured. “Tonight I’ll savor ya proper, sweetheart.”

Aligning his cock with your entrance those hardened fingers dug into your bare hips to steady himself as he thrust careful inside you. He watched closely as he slipped it in, his body shuddering as it reacted to him being wrapped fully in you down to the hilt. You whined as he stretched you to capacity, your pussy needing a minute to readjust to his size; it had been a hot minute after all since he had filled you this full.

“Goddammit, luv,” he groaned with a hiss, eyes clamping shut as he struggled to hang on to sanity, “don’t you ever leave me again. I don’t ever wanna fuckin’ miss this.”

Catching his cheek with your hand, Ghost opened his eyes to your touch and you pulled his face closer to yours. “Never if I can help it,” you breathed as you crashed your lips on his again; you needed something to make sure you stayed quiet as he began to forcefully thrust in and out of you, all that longing he had done in your absence culminating in his movements now.

It had only been a few short minutes of him pumping all he had into you, but he was already completely drunk off the feeling of your tight, wet core sucking him with voracity each time he rocked into it. His burning mouth stayed locked onto yours for a little longer, just to be sure you had a handle on the sound before he released it.

“Can’t stop… how much… I need ya…” he panted quietly between desperate thrusts. “Down so bad for ya… sweetheart.”

“Fuck, I was so miserable without you,” you admitted sheepishly. “My fingers are sore.”

The longing in your voice was palpable and Ghost could not get enough. “Missed me like fuckin’ crazy, didn’t you sweetheart?” he asked as his speed increased with new vigor at your words. “Missed what I do to this sweet little body of yours?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t good enough; he was hungry for more of your need of him to be vocalized. “Words, use them,” he demanded.

“Missed you so fucking much,” you whimpered as a twinge of pleasure shot up from your core through your body. “I am an absolute fucking mess without you.”

His lips shot to yours as you were starting to get loud again and though he hated to keep you quiet, it was a necessity in here. Half of him was of the mind to just let you be your usual vocal self, letting the whole fucking office building hear you taking him so well, and as much as his body burned for such a thing he knew in the long run it would be detrimental to your situation. The last thing he wanted was to ruin this by exposing the secret.

“Wish everyone in this fuckin’ office would just leave so I could enjoy your sweet little noises, luv,” he purred into your face as he released your mouth again. “Can’t get enough of your pretty music; my room’s been so quiet without it.”

Panting into his face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Ghost put more into his thrusts so that even the desk itself began to rock with you from the force. The strength of his pumps made you feral, relinquishing any hold you had on civility as you would do anything to get more of the way his body fit into your cunt; it felt nice to be filled out by him again… you had grown far too accustomed with being constantly overflowing with his cock on the daily.

So wet, the sound of slapping skin against skin filled the silent space within the room, Ghost’s second favorite sound that you produced. It was like a round of applause for all his efforts, that he was putting in the right amount of work, and he pulled back to watch himself pump in and out of you. He hoped that someone would take him out permanently if he ever got tired of that sight, though he wasn’t worried about it as nothing would ever look better to him.

Taking the first two fingers of one of his hands he brought it to your clit, drawing circles with the pad of the digits over that overwhelmingly sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked wildly at the extra bit of stimulation, slamming against his hand as your eyes rolled back with all that ecstasy flowing through your veins.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you begged, trying desperately to keep your volume at a reasonable level. “Gonna cum soon.”

Christ, those three words he had longed to hear for weeks now only fueled those strong thrusts and quick flicks of your clit. “That’s it, darlin’, fuckin’ come for me,” Ghost growled so desperately it made your brain numb. “I need to know your body still belongs to me.”

“Only you,” you returned without hesitation. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else baby. I can’t even get wet to anything but you.”

That beastly, towering hulk of a man shuddered at your proclamation, nearly spilling his seed inside you at such a beautiful phrase coming from your lips, but he would not allow anything to stop him from bringing about your release and so he focused everything he had left solely on you.

Keeping the pace of both his fingers and his cock at the same, precise speed Ghost watched as after a few more minutes your head finally flicked back and your thighs clamped down around his hips, a cry exploding out of you before you quickly locked your lips together to stifle the tail end of your ecstasy-filled exclamation.

Your cry is what did him in and he jerked violently as your pussy fluttered around him and he had to harshly pull out of you so that he could milk himself dry over top of your bare stomach. The sticky, hot fluid coated your skin with an amount more than you were expecting; clearly it had been a while.

Ghost looked back up at you, a contented, amused smile plastered to his lips. “Goddamn, luv,” was all he could say as he admired the beautiful flush in your cheeks and glazed look in your eyes, all a product from him.

It took him a second to find something to help clean you both up; a spare t shirt he had balled up in the bottom drawer of his desk would have to do. He took care of himself first before he moved to you, handing you the shirt while he went to gather your clothes. Waiting till you were finished cleaning off, he helped you to redress as your legs shook unsteadily.

The care he was taking with you now, it wrought to the surface just how silly you had been while you were away, thinking that he could have ever dropped you for someone else. You thought you had been slick, concealing your emotions from his discerning eye until you heard him speak.

“What’s that?” he questioned, causing you to look back up into his face.

“What’s what?” you posed curiously.

“That… look. On your face.”

You didn’t really want to say, you knew it was only an intrusive thought, but something about the way he stood gazing at you as if actively waiting for you to answer made you speak up. “It’s silly, but…” you paused; why couldn’t you just be honest with him? That man was just inside of you and yet this felt so much more intimate than that.

“Tell me,” he said, genuinely interested in the answer.

You swallowed hard. “Well, I was… worried you might have forgotten about me…moved on to someone else or something while I was gone. Wouldn’t have blamed you. I mean, needs are needs right?”

Ghost had already moved back in as you nervously laughed, both of those large hands cupping your face between them. Amber eyes stared back at you for a few seconds as if trying to read the meaning behind your words before he tilted his head to one side and leaned in to kiss you in such a way as he never done before: it was softer, but with just as much passion that you felt you might choke on it.

“I will neva forget about ya, luv,” he stated firmly as he broke the kiss, unable to hold back the string of truth that began spilling forth. “There’s no one ‘round here that could replace ya, absolutely fuckin’ no one. I don’t want some flaky tart that’s gonna get sick of my shit after a while or some dumb bimbo that talks a big game, but cannot keep up with me. I want you. Only you, understand?”

You nodded. “I only want you too, Simon.”

In all this time, you had never really used his name; perhaps it was too familiar for the type of relationship you both had together or maybe it was simple enough to stick to more formal monikers so that when not in a more intimate setting things wouldn’t get confusing. Whatever the reason was it didn’t matter anymore. Fuck did his name sound good being said in your voice; there was no going back from the shift that was happening here.

And maybe eventually you’d both be able to say it… out loud. For now, though, this was enough.

“So…” he said in hushed tones as he cleared his throat, knowing that you needed to head back soon and hating every bit of it, “you’re comin’ by later, yeah?”

You let out a small sigh and gave him a sweet, muted smile. “I believe you owe me more than just a quickie, so I guess so.”

Simon shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell,” he chuckled. “I guess off you fuckin’ go then before someone gets suspicious.”

And with another quick kiss you left him all alone in his quiet office to count down the literal seconds until he could be with you again. Hopefully, the rest of that day would go by fast, but the way his heart was beating, he didn’t hold out for a painless outcome.

Part 3:

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kquil · 3 months

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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.6

06 : SELFISH DESIRES

SUM : it's your chance to make amends and push aside your selfish desires - your heart will ache but they're worth it

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; angst ; idiots in love ; unexpected turn of events ; sirius is the main character here ; jk jk ; it's you~ hehe~ ; you'll see what i mean ; wolfstar have a heated argument ; i almost cried writing it ; i hate seeing them like that ; poor james ; james needs a hug ; regulus makes an appearance! ; dramatic sirius black ; regulus is a good brother ; sirius being an instigator ; we love him for it though ; you can't just leave them again! ; no fluff here kiddos ; but kiddos stay away! ; just cover your innocent eyes!

LENGTH : 3.7k

← PREV. : 05 | DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

“You’re disgusting,” Sirius manages an indifferent glance over at his younger brother before resuming his miserable, unmoving position on the sofa — Regulus’ sofa. The obvious detachment Sirius has to the situation only stirs his younger brother’s bubbling anger, “It’s almost been a full month! And you’re letting yourself rot away on my sofa; get a hold of yourself!” No response. Regulus shakes his head with a drawn out sigh, “you usually don’t stay around this long whenever there’s an argument… I wonder what’s happened this time…”

Deeming his older brother completely hopeless, Regulus returns to his sparse but sleek kitchen just as the kettle whistles its readiness to be poured for tea.

Sirius breaths an audible sigh and grimaces at the stench of his breath. The mix of excessive alcohol, countless cigarettes and mountains of junk food didn’t make for a good concoction on his tongue, definitely not for fresh breath. When was the last time he had brushed his teeth? He brings a hand up to push straggling strands of hair away from his view but grumbles when the curls had knotted up too much for him to comb his hair back uninterrupted. Stone grey eyes look down at his figure, stagnant and pale, weighed heavy from low spirits.

What followed the night you left their flat was the worst fight they have ever had. It was mainly between him and Remus while James remained in the background, too downhearted to contribute anything to the verbal warfare happening before him. He was spoiled with love since birth. As an only child with loving parents, who never fought in front of him, whenever Sirius and Remus argued, James was left paralysed with despair. It was always shocking to him how nasty those fights became; his parents never fought like that. Sirius could see it in his sweet hazel eyes that James wanted desperately to have peace but didn’t know how to steer things in that direction. He had tried before, many times, to defuse the situation but both Sirius and Remus were too stubborn and hot-headed from the argument as well as their suddenly stark differences in opinion to back down.

As unfortunate as it is to think about, these fights happened often, recurring in the same exact way – originating from opposing opinions, primarily between him and Remus. They would try to keep it together but it would just keep piling up until someone snaps and then there’s no dispelling their disputes. James either takes a side or none at all (usually the later) and Sirius storms out of the flat to stay with Regulus.

He should feel guilty for being such a burden to his younger brother. He should have more pride in himself than to allow Regulus to ever see him in such a depressed and unpleasant state. Lack of hygiene, self care and self maintenance manifests into something so repulsive and unsightly, Sirius would usually be back and making amends within a week or two – encouraged by his own lack of cleanliness and his commitment to run from the disease of laziness.

But it’s been more than that now. Nearly a month, Regulus says. Time just passes by, slow and tolerant, so unlike him, and yet, Sirius still managed to lose complete track of it. This is the longest they’ve ever had a dispute without reconciling.

His own stubbornness is definitely a factor. He had been right all along. If only they, mostly Remus, had listened to him. James was fully on board but Remus was stubbornly defiant and managed to convince the former otherwise.

“Do you think she’s the type of person who would embrace such an unconventional relationship with open arms?!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Moony,” Sirius grits his teeth, his inner thoughts and reasoning ached to be heard and let out coherently. In his mind, it all made sense to do things the way he suggests, so why couldn’t his boyfriend understand him?! It doesn’t even seem like he’s trying to listen to him at this point! “She won’t understand if we don’t say anything to her! We have to be forward and bold! Do it now before something happens!”

“Nothing. Is. Going. To. Happen!”

“How can you be so sure? We need to be honest with her, it’s not fair to her and it’s, frankly, deceitful to keep her in the dark about all this!”

“We can’t be too sure that she’ll accept us. If that happens then we’ll never see her again– I don’t want that, do you?!”

“We won’t know unless we say something, do something, anything!”

“Please just trust me, Siri,” Remus begs, his loud voice lowering to a soft plea, his beautiful brown eyes no longer fierce or piercing but kind and warm again, with a hint of fear. Sirius can sympathise with that creeping terror, an anxiety that wants to swallow you whole and keep you in a dark abyss for eternity, “I don’t want to frighten her…”

The first time, Sirius gave in, weak for his love and weak for the reasoning behind his proposal on the matter concerning you. The dark-haired tattooist couldn’t fault his lover for that but, in hindsight, he should have argued his side more, maybe then, you wouldn’t have disappeared like that…

“Hey, your phone won’t stop pinging,” Regulus alerts, appearing out of thin air and surprising Sirius enough to sit up and alert with wide eyes, “will you finally read their messages to you?” with some reluctance, Sirius reaches for his phone and proceeds to look through his messages while Regulus takes a seat opposite him, a steaming cup of tea in hand.

The younger Black brother was just about to begin reading another one of his classic novel favourites when a rush of air flew by him, ruffling the small strands of hair and whipping about the billowing steam from his mug of tea. Moments later, the sound of his shower turning on full blast echos through his flat and a smile graces his lips.

“It’s about time…”

Lingering guilt had plagued you all night long and you barely managed to get a wink of sleep. It, however, meant that you were able to better prepare lunch for the boys the following day. While cooking, you abandon all negative feelings to focus on only the good, not wanting any harmful emotions to diffuse into the food and saturate it with bad tastes. Your eyebags weren’t a pretty sight but it was easily fixable with a touch of makeup.

You tried to look your best for the day. Fortunately, the early summer sun inspired your motivations further. Yes, you’ve made the terrible mistake of selfishly pushing them away to nurse your own battered soul and unrequited feelings, but this was your time to make amends, to make things right… to see Sirius again.

You never felt right after you accused him of cheating on Remus and James with each other, only to find out that he was far more loving and loyal than that. You were embarrassed and ashamed to have ever thought so negatively about him, jumping to conclusions like an immature, thoughtless child. It was wonderful seeing James and Remus again, your heart was practically soaring in your chest as it disregarded all lingering feelings of misery and dejection. But now, your chest felt incredibly tight as your heart ached to catch a simple glimpse of Sirius.

You carefully pack away the lovingly prepared food and desserts into your largest, most durable shopping bag before getting dressed. It was only natural that you managed to make more than you usually made for the boys, seeing as you wanted to spoil them rotten after being so childish the last few weeks. Since the weather was pleasant, you opted for a cute mini dress with a light, flowy material that was comfortable and soft. Over top, you wore a cropped cardigan that had long sleeves, enough to reach past your fingertips. For jewellery, you wore a simple necklace and slipped into a strappy pair of mid-heeled platforms that weren’t too tall. Casual but cute.

Approaching the studio doors, your grip on the strap of your bag tightens and your breath hitches. They hadn’t taken the notice down and the bold, red letters of their ‘CLOSED’ sign glared at you angrily.

Were they inside? Should you knock? Neither Remus or James actually agreed to your sudden choice to meet for lunch the night before. Did this mean that they didn’t want you to be in their lives anymore?... But… but you wanted to make things right! You wanted to apologise! You want to be friends with them again! You’ll tell them right away – tell them how you would do anything just to remain by their side, even if it’s just as a friend, you’ll be happy for them! You won’t be selfish anymore, you won’t covet anything more than friendship with them, that’s all you want! Not that they’ve ever heard of your true desires—

“Well?” A familiar voice speaks up behind you, putting an abrupt end to your panicked inner monologue, “Aren’t you going to knock?”

Swiftly spinning in place, you smile brightly at the biker and tattooist standing before you, dressed in all black, with heavy, lace-up boots and his signature leather jacket, “Sirius!”

He doesn’t breathe a word to you, eyeing your hefty bag before briefly meeting your eyes and making his way over. His long strides made it so that he reached you in no time but he didn’t stop. With a light gasp, he had backed you up into the left of their studio’s double-door front entrance. You held your breath and kept your eyes shut tight, not knowing what to do as your heart pounded deafeningly against your eardrums.

A moment passes and you feel his hand brush against yours before your portly bag of packed food is taken from you. A wave of relief washed over your aching shoulder as the weight disappeared but such a diminutive alleviation of discomfort couldn’t swamp the trepidation in your heart. Sirius was different.

“Siri–”

“Let’s head inside,” he had opened the right hand door and easily slipped through with your bag. Alone and in the quiet, you felt like crying. You wanted to cry, desperately but you knew that it would offer little to no reassurance. So, with a heavy heart, you followed Sirius inside and closed the studio door behind you.

The air was stale but, in it, lingered a familiar scent that you had come to love, it was a clean, almost clinical smell from the regular use of disinfectant and bleach. You love this parlour so much, it was filled with so many good memories, ones of soft affection through tender words and gentle caresses. Despite the earlier interaction, you couldn’t help but smile just from the wave of romantic sentiment washing over you.

“You’re here,” Remus greets with a tired smile as James sits on the opposite end of the sofa with a shy grin directed towards you, his hazel eyes looking elsewhere.

“Sorry if I’m late,” you managed a weak smile, “I didn’t know if the door was open or not. Thankfully, Sirius was there to help me in,” Sirius didn’t sit down despite the many available seating spaces and chose to lean his back against a far wall, instead. James couldn’t meet your eyes and Remus was sneakily massaging his temple as he leaned his face against his large hand, “let’s eat, shall we? I hope you guys are hungry,”

It was never this awkward. Or quiet. Especially when sharing your homemade lunch together. James would usually be giving you endless praise through large, mid-chewed mouthfuls while Sirius laughed at the ridiculous sounds and faces he’d pull trying to speak coherently through the mouthful of food, and Remus would shake his head, his amusement by the display evident in the warm glimmer of his eyes. However, James doesn’t have as big of an appetite today and Sirius stands alone with his tupperware, barely touching his food. Remus is the only one eating a substantial amount besides you. Although, you’ve gradually slowed your own chewing.

What have you done?...

What happened to all of you?

Your shame brought your gaze down, making your head weigh heavier than usual as you give up on communicating anything with the boys. This wasn’t how it was meant to go…what should you do now? The pain in your heart was unbearable.

Shoulders slumped and confidence dried up, you struggled to think of what to do. You should have prepared a speech or something. It was naive of you to think that simply coming over with a homemade lunch would fix anything. Things are never going to be the same, no matter how much you hope and pray for them to be.

You’re hopeless… completely and utterly hopeless…

This was your worst fear come to life. You had feared rejection but seeing them unloving towards each other, barely communicating and broken apart, your stomach collapsed in on itself as your heart fell to a million pieces. You didn’t utter a single word of loving them romantically aloud and yet, you still managed to get in between their relationship. This was a sentiment of how selfish of a person you are.

How could you do this to them?! They were your friends, who saved you from the worst night of your life, and you repay them like this?! Shameful. Disgusting. You don’t think you could ever look at yourself in the mirror again.

The skirt of your mini dress blurs on your lap and you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing out loud. The tears, however, you couldn’t stop them. Hopefully, they’re all too distracted to see you silently weeping and you can gather yourself before turning tail and running out of there.

Today is a complete disaster—

“Don’t cry, angel, please!” James jumps up and rushes to your side, kneeling down at your feet as he takes your hands in his and tries to meet your gaze through the puddle of tears in your eyes. His words immediately catch Remus and Sirius’ attention and they both begin to make their way over, evident worry swimming in their eyes but you refuse to acknowledge any of that as your mind drowns in all manner of negative thought.

You shake your head, hearing the flurry of footfalls around you and wishing them away silently, “I shouldn’t have come here today…” you whisper.

“What was that?” James patiently asks, voice soft and sweet and kind, it makes you want to fall into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you speak clearer and stand abruptly, “enjoy the lunch,” the haste and sorrow in your shaking voice makes their heart drop and they’re brought back to that fateful night once more. You don’t meet their eyes as you turn and push past them to leave, almost running through the hallway of their studio just to reach the door and make a quick escape.

“THIS!” Sirius’ roaring voice suddenly cuts through the studio like a knife, making you stop in your tracks and turn around slowly. The door to the lounge room was still open, before it Sirius and Remus stood in an aggressive confrontation, both taking on a defensive stance as they faced each other, all while James remained in the background, clutching at his head as he slumped forward on the sofa, “THIS IS WHAT I MEANT! IF YOU HAD JUST LISTENED TO ME–”

“I DIDN’T SAY WHAT I SAID WITHOUT REASON SIRIUS! YOU KNOW MY EXACT THOUGHTS ABOUT ALL THIS!” Remus shouts back, the veins in his neck bulging out from his fierce anger, the blood rushing in his cheeks making him look just about ready to violently explode.

“BUT–”

“—YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR THAT!” Remus continues, not allowing Sirius to speak.

“WELL YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR MY REASONING EITHER!”

You’re horrified at the scene. Sirius and Remus look ready to tear each other apart as James looks on hopelessly, not knowing what to do or how to diffuse the situation, completely torn between supporting one or the other. Without thinking, you rush back and skid to a stop between the two hot-blooded men. Their fuming rage was like a turbulent inferno whose flames licked viciously at your skin, ready to burn you and spread the hostility.

“The both of you need to calm down!” you shout, pushing them away from each other and creating a safe distance between. Your tears had already run dry, replaced by the trembling terror shaking your limbs.

“Don’t worry about us Dove,” Remus manages to voice through gritted teeth, his glowering eyes never leaving Sirius’, “you can leave and we’ll sort this out,”

“Sort this out like usual huh?—”

“—Don’t taunt me, Sirius,”

“That won’t solve anything, you idiot!” Sirius flings his arms up and James just barely manages to pull you away from being accidentally hit. Neither of the two seem to notice and James expresses his apology in lovingly nuzzling your temple, his lips puckering to kiss your skin but refraining and stepping away abruptly. You try not to feel the heartache his actions elicit in you.

“SHUT UP!” you’ve never heard Remus sound so angry and venomous before, it makes your heart stutter in fear and worry. You can’t leave now; this disagreement can’t end well without some form of intervention and James isn’t fairing too well with that – he needs someone there for him too, just to feel, somewhat, grounded through all of this, “She doesn’t have to hear all of this!”

“We wouldn’t have to be saying ‘all of this’ if you had. Just. LISTENED. TO. ME!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?!” Sirius growls lowly, his countenance scrunching up into a foul expression —an antithesis to his elegant features, “I’ll show you!” it was then that Sirius turns to face you and approaches with purpose in his long strides, unstopping like he did earlier when outside the studio.

“SIRIUS—!”

Sirius backs you up into the wall behind you, “—Everything Could Have Been As Easy As Doing This!” you didn’t know what to prepare yourself for but Sirius firmly gripping your chin and pulling you into a deep kiss was not one of them. In your shock, you let out a surprised but muffled moan, slowly falling into the blissful embrace and reciprocating eagerly.

Did you faint earlier? Was this all a dream?...

…Dream or not, you like this very much!

James and Remus watch at the bold display, disbelief shining clear in their eyes as Sirius has his way with you. But you don’t see them, you don’t see anyone or anything, all you know is that Sirius kisses like an experienced lover from fantasy and he wasn’t shy about loving you up. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you let Sirius guide them over your head to cuff your wrists together with his large hand, his other snaking around your waist to pull you closer and deepen the kiss.

He tastes like spearmint gum and smokey cigarette smoke, his lips tinted in cherry lip balm for sweetness. What an addictive taste. You can’t get enough.

But air is a necessity and just as you were beginning to run out of breath, Sirius pulls away, panting heavily. He doesn’t wait for a single second to pass before diving his head into your neck, where he peppers feathery but fervid kisses along your sensitive skin and smiles to himself when you slip out a moan. You sound beautiful. He needs to hear more. Sirius doesn’t stop, he sucks and licks and kisses and nuzzles along your neck like the tease he is, drawing out every quivering whimper and pretty moan you were desperately trying to contain.

You keep your eyes tightly shut, too embarrassed to meet the eyes of Remus or James. Their gaze on you left behind a searing, phantom mark that developed into a displeasing itch. An itch that could only be satisfied if they kissed you too.

…So selfish. God! When will you stop?!

Ashamed of your gradually increasing volume, you seal your mouth shut in a stubborn attempt to suppress your pleasure. How did his lips and tongue feel so good on your skin? His touch made your knees weak and your legs shake, without his support, you don’t think you would stay standing for long.

Just as you were able to swallow every embarrassing sound that tried to escape, James was beside you, his warm breath on your cheek as he silently urged Sirius to give way, “you need help staying quiet, angel?” he whispers and doesn’t wait for an answer, briefly meeting your eyes before he’s closing them to kiss you sweetly. It started off sweet. Sweet and loving like James before suddenly becoming very dominating and overwhelming. You were being devoured and the thought was undeniably arousing. They were both on you, Sirius kissing away at your neck as James savoured the taste of your lips before bullying his way into your awaiting mouth. He swallowed your moans for you as Sirius defiantly persisted, urging you with seductive lips to make more.

Overwhelmed but so content.

You were drowning in bliss and you never wanted to break away from it.

“DIDN’T I SAY!” Remus shouts, stopping all activity and leaving you strung up high as the boys slowly pull away, not too far but enough for all of you to meet Remus’ unreadable stare. The boys look over their shoulder to observe their commanding lover, their large frames tense before moving their eyes down and slowly smirking, the tension evaporating off their figures as you’re left to rebuild another tower of anxiety from your lower stomach, “Didn’t. I. Say. We. Were. Going. To. Savour. Her?”

What?

Your shocked, wide-eyed stare meets Remus’ cool and, almost, unfeeling gaze. Once again, your knees buckled under you and you were caught by Sirius and James. Held in place by their hot, firm hands and the press of their toned physiques.

What did he just say?

Unable to keep his stare, your eyes slowly fall down the tall brunette’s figure. Capturing his beautiful, full lips; taking in the delicious column on his neck; observing the wide expanse of his shoulders and chest; drifting down to gulp at his veiny arms and hands before landing on...

Oh~

A/N : no fluff, but something better right? a little sneak peak on how i write spicy things but it's readable hehe~

NEXT. | 07 : APOLOGISE AND COMFORT →

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST

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#poly marauders x reader #marauders x reader #poly marauders x you #poly marauders #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #remus x reader #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #the marauders #marauders #wolfstar #heroes in tattoos series #HIT : series

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bimbobaggins69 · 9 months

Text

first time for everything…

virgin eddie munson x experienced best friend reader

summary: Eddie has been in love with you since middle school. But he’d never admit it, no way, he’d never ruin what you two have… once he turns 18 he’s unwillingly drafted into the war while you go off to college in New York. Once the war is over Eddie is sent back to his mundane life in Hawkins and you move back when your grandmother gets sick. As fate has it, you and Eddie find your way back to each other.

warnings: smut ahead, mdni 18+, angst, late 60s—mid 70s au, fem reader, no y/n, pet names (princess, sweetheart etc.), mentions of slut shaming, reader is looking for love in all the wrong places, jealous!eddie, mentions of war, mentions of dying, Eddie has ptsd, mentions of a loved one having only months to live, loss of a family member, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie, fluff fluff fluff.

authors note: thank you so much to the nonnie that requested this, I’m sure it’s so different from what you had in mind but I got very inspired after watching Forrest Gump. (this has a happy ending) Also, the timeline here vs the actual Vietnam war barely coincide… so ignore that please. Thank you to my loves @take-everything-you-can & @corrodedcorpses for beta reading! <3

wc: 8.1k

1966

“Hey, what are you doing sitting over here all alone?” A boyish voice calls out from behind where you’re seated; up against an old oak tree with just enough shade to allow you to read the words in your book.

Middle school was rough and you kept to yourself, being the new kid and all. Making friends in Bumsville, Indiana turns out was way harder than making friends in Phoenix. This town was far too small and with the way you’d dress and carry yourself, well… that was clarification enough that you didn’t belong. But that was okay, you didn’t want to belong in a place like this, anyway.

“Just reading.” Your small bashful voice is such a stark contrast to how you are at home, in a place of comfortability.

“Yeah, I see that… whatcha reading?” The mystery voice now no longer a mystery as he steps out from behind the tree, his worn and tattered converse step closer, causing you to look up, meeting a familiar set of brown doe eyes.

He wasn’t in your class but you had seen him a bunch, throughout the halls and at lunch.

He seemed to be the only interesting person in this hick town.

You pick your pink book up, allowing him to read the title, which he does out loud to himself.

“Valley of the dolls.” He says curiously. “What’s that about?”

The book looked far too girly for his taste, but as long as it gave him more reason to stand here and talk to you, he’d indulge.

“Wait, let me guess… something about dolls?” He smirks, while taking a seat on the fluffy grass, beside you.

“No actually, it’s about three best friends who live in New York, they’re struggling to get by so they decide to make their mark in show business, but shit just kind of spirals for them and well it’s not a very happy ending.” You fix your bookmark in place before closing it and placing it into your backpack.

“Oh, also ‘dolls’ is just another word for drugs.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders.

Eddie stays silent for a moment, before he looks over to you, hands nervously picking at the grass below him.

“Mmm, sounds interesting… guess it’s true what they say, not to judge a book by its cover.” He says with a shy smile.

1968

“Would you scoot over!” You screech, while shoving your elbow into the frizzy haired boy, practically sitting in your lap.

You and Eddie had been inseparable best friends, since that very interaction under the big oak tree. You were both immediately drawn to each other like a moth to a flame. He agreed, you seemed to be the only interesting thing in this hick town.

“It’s my couch, woman!” He screeches back, playfully pushing your head out of the way.

“Fine, I’ll just sit on the floor.” you scoff before scooting your butt down from the couch, plopping onto the scratchy brown carpet. You roll your eyes when Eddie decides to dramatically fling himself across the whole couch, as if he’s been waiting for you to move your ass this whole time, the jerk.

“Hey, did I tell you Billy asked me to go to the drive-in with him?” You say as your eyes remain on the television set, hand mindlessly grabbing for the popcorn bowl placed on the coffee table.

You miss the way Eddie visibly swallows, and the way his fists tighten on the material of his jeans.

“Um, no you didn’t.” He mumbles, as his longing eyes burn holes into the back of your head.

“Yeah, well he did.” You take a sip of your Pepsi, washing down the kernels of popcorn stuck to your tongue. “Do you think he’ll wanna go all the way?” You ask Eddie before taking another sip.

His eyes widen into saucers before he begins wiping his clammy palms against his clothed thighs.

You’d never talked about sex with Eddie, maybe about some girls he thought were cute and vice versa, but never sex.

Ahem, he clears his throat before he speaks. “I don’t know, but he’s a guy so I wouldn’t put it past him.” His doe eyes, usually so full of light now droop like one of those precious moments dolls.

He begs the universe for you not to look back at him, he knows as soon as you do you’ll be able to read him like a book.

You’ll know you’re breaking his heart.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m ready though.” You say, before grabbing another handful of buttery popcorn.

“Then you shouldn’t do something you’re not ready for.” Eddie says with a deep breath of relief.

“But I mean, I kind of want to just get it over with, I don’t buy into the bullshit of ‘waiting for the right one’ it’s such horse shit, and is only a thing because of the patriarchy.”

Eddie so badly wants to say: I’m the right one, lose it to me.

But he could never put his heart out there like that, to inevitably be stomped on. He knows you’d never purposely break his heart, but he also knows he’s in love with someone that couldn’t possibly feel the same way for him, and that’s just something he has to live with.

Even if that means sitting on the sidelines while boys come and go. He knows he’ll always be your number one…well until you fall for some douchebag after high school and realize Eddie’s just your friend, and is eventually replaced when you decide to get married and have said douchebags, douchebag offspring.

But he’ll place that in a box in his mind to deal with later.

1970

You lost your virginity to Billy the night he took you to the drive in.

Those feelings of being wanted and loved, although just for that night sent you on a high you thought you’d never come down from.

Your freshman year, you went on lots of dates, slept with lots of undeserving guys and although those feelings never followed you home, you felt as though it was worth it to just feel them if even for 5 minutes.

You were playing a dangerous game, especially in a small town where word of your promiscuity would travel faster than a forest fire.

And although Eddie had begrudgingly heard the rumors in the locker room and in some of his classes, he never looked at you differently, never judged you.

He’d stick up for you every time, although that led to plenty instances of him getting the shit kicked out of him. He already had a target on his back, being the freak and all, but he didn’t care, no one was going to disrespect you, not in his presence, anyway.

His feelings never seemed to fade, his heart still beat for you no matter who you gave yourself to.

Of course Eddie wanted to be your first, but you were right, it is a social construct in order to make women more subservient to men, Eddie was a feminist afterall.

“Aw, did you wait here for me?” You ask as your hands clutch your trapper keeper to your chest.

Eddie was leant up against the brick wall of the school, the right sole of his shoe was flush against it, knee bent as his skin protruded from the hole in his jeans. A lit cigarette dangled from between his lips, a habit he had just picked up from an older boy that lived in the trailer across from him.

“Well duh, now that that asshole you were seeing isn’t driving you anymore, I thought we could walk together.” He mumbles before taking a puff of his spliff.

“You’re so sweet to me.” You smile before snatching the cigarette that now blazed between his ringed fingers, you take a quick inexperienced puff before passing it back.

He smirks while taking one last hit of his cigarette before tossing it to the floor and stomping it out for good measure under his beaten and written on converse. He’s glad the action has given him a chance to get a good look at you as you walk ahead of him, it was his favorite thing to do when you’d both go on mindless strolls.

“You look pretty today.” The compliment slipped so easily from his lips.

You turn around to meet his eye, walking backwards rather uncoordinatedly.

“You look pretty, too.” You say with a wink, before turning back around.

Eddie was none the wiser that day, when your face flushed for him the very first time.

1971

“Eddie! Put me down!” You shriek as you kick and flail, the water from the pool splashing around and creating tiny waves for the other swimmers.

“Never!” He says ironically before throwing you into the far end, his maniacal laugh can be heard from under water.

“You’re such a dick sometimes, Munson.” You say as you swim to the steps, hoisting yourself up and out of the community pool.

You’re in a little red bikini and the way your hips sway has Eddie mesmerized.

You sit on one of the lawn chairs, drying off under the beaming sun.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” Your eyes shoot open, falling on two round pools of honey.

“Um no, not at all.” You say as you give the boy a shy smile.

“I’m Steve.” He says as he takes a seat in the chair closest to you.

“Hi, Steve.” His name felt like sex on your tongue.

Eddie watched from the pool as you and Steve got acquainted, he wanted to punch himself for practically pushing you into the arms of another guy.

He couldn’t sit here and watch you laugh at this asshole's jokes, he had to get out of here.

1972

“Why am I so hard to love?” You cry out, mascara running down your face, as your head is placed in your best friend's lap.

“You’re not hard to love!” He says before tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear, and thumbing a tear off the side of your cheek. “You just keep picking the worst douche canoes available.” He says with a small chuckle.

“I thought Steve was different, he really acted like he cared about me, ya know?” You sniffle as your manicured fingers play with the fringe of Eddie’s jeans.

“Yeah well, those jock assholes will tell you anything to get in your pants.” Eddie says with a tick of his jaw.

“You’re right, I should become celibate or something… I’m just so tired of letting these assholes take from me, without getting anything in return.” You murmur with another sniffle.

Eddie liked that idea, you being celibate.

For your own good, of course.

1973

“Oh my god! Can you believe we’ll be out of this shithole soon?” You eagerly say, as you walk up to your best friend's locker.

The glum look in his eyes does not go unnoticed by you.

“Hey Eddie, what's wrong?” Your eyes examine the slump of his shoulders and the bloodshot red in his eyes, although that could be from him smoking during lunch, but the puffiness underneath tells you otherwise.

He slammed his locker before making his way towards the double door exit, not even stopping to take a second look at your stunned face.

You run after him, launching yourself between Eddie and the door of his van.

“Eddie, talk to me, what happened?” The urgency in your voice makes his eyes begin to water, again.

“I got my draft letter yesterday after school, they’re sending me to fucking Vietnam.” His eyes don’t meet yours, they can’t or it’ll make this all so much worse.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry.” Your lip begins to quiver at the thought of Eddie in a foreign place, getting bombed and shot at. “Ed’s, I-I…” you’re not even sure what to say, how to make him feel better, you couldn’t even if you tried. For the first time since you’ve known him, you were unable to comfort him.

“I gotta go.” He says before smoothly stepping around you and getting into his van, his wheels peel off leaving tire tracks on the tarmac.

You knew Eddie wasn’t mad at you specifically, he was mad at the situation. You and him had talked about running off together and getting out of this podunk town so much it had become a common topic when you two would hang out. You had agreed to get an apartment, you’d go to college while he got a good paying job with his diploma. But that dream quickly went down the drain when he got his draft letter in the mail.

All he wanted was to be with you, wherever you both decided to fuck off to, but now you’d be going alone, and he’d be sent off to a war he could potentially die in.

Class of 73’

“Give it up for the class of 73’!” Principle Higgins shouted into the mic, sat on top of the wooden podium.

You and Eddie's eyes had met a handful of times during the ceremony and every time they did, a lump would form in your throat at the idea of this being it for you two.

Everyone clapped and whistled as you threw your green tasseled hat into the air with Eddie and the rest of your classmates.

You make your way into the crowd of parents and friends ready to congratulate their new graduates.

“Congratulations sweetheart.” Uncle Wayne says, while wrapping you up into a grizzly bear of a hug.

“Thanks Wayne.” You say with a bashful smile. “Where’s eddie?” Your eyes scan the crowd as you look for your favorite curly headed freak.

“Oh he’s around here somewhere.” Wayne softly smiles as he gives your back a small pat. “I'm gonna go talk to Ms. Duvall right over there. I’ll see you later, kid.” He says with one last heartfelt smile.

You nod your head in understanding before you go right back to scanning over the herd of people.

“Hey you.” The same voice from that day under the oak tree, calls out from behind you, well you had to admit it was a little more manly now.

You turn around quickly on your heel, eyes meeting your favorite pair.

“Hey.” You say with a bright smile, your heart begins beating a mile a minute, with feelings settling into your stomach that you weren’t quite ready to assess.

“We did it!” Eddie says before grabbing the back of your head, fingers sliding through your hair as he pulls you into a warm hug. The side of your face resting on his chest makes your stomach flutter so hard you think you might puke from the nervousness he’s is stirring within you.

These feelings were too new and they scared the shit out of you.

“So you ready for New York?” He asks with a melancholy smile.

“Honestly? No, not really.” You say muffled into his chest before you pull away to look at him.

You weren’t ready to start a life without your best friend.

“When do you leave?” His hand continues to slide through your hair, making your stomach flip upside down.

“In a couple days.” You murmur before swallowing hard, now unable to meet his eyes.

“You’ll have a good time, meet some cool people.” He’s trying to pretend his heart isn’t breaking but the look in his eyes is not lost on you, your heart is breaking too.

“I couldn’t ever meet anyone as cool as you.” You whisper as your glassy eyes now meet his.

He smiles albeit a weak one, but he wishes those words were true.

“You staying celibate through college?” He joked, giving your arm a little nudge.

“That’s the plan, but who knows.”

The implications set Eddie’s stomach ablaze in the most painful way.

If I don’t find someone, fall in love and replace you.

Fuck the government for choosing him to fight in a war he didn’t even believe in. He could’ve been getting ready to leave with you, maybe even get the chance to finally tell you how much he’s been in love with you ever since he sparked up a conversation under that big oak tree.

There was no way he could tell you that now, he’d hate himself forever if he knew there was any chance you could’ve been his for all these years. It’s too late for him now.

You had stayed with Eddie that night, your stomach was in absolute knots just thinking about leaving him, you needed one more night with him, if this was the last chance you’d get to ever see each other again, you needed it. Just for tonight.

You spent most of it in each other's arms, crying and replaying your favorite memories and then crying some more.

He had confided in you, told you that if he died while overseas he’d die a virgin.

Eddie was never open with you about girls that he was seeing, you had assumed he’d had sex with at least one. The shock on your face was enough to make him want to cower away in embarrassment.

You’d both thought about making love to each other that night. You so badly wanted to be his first, get to have him in that way before life ran its course, but you just couldn’t. You knew it would make leaving each other that much harder, and fuck was it already so hard.

1974

College in New York was chaotic to say the least, life was so fast paced, it had taken so long to get accustomed.

And with your new fast paced, busy life, it left it close to impossible to sit down and write letters.

You and Eddie hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

Then there was Brendon, a guy you had met in your economics class. He was nice, he treated you better than you’d ever been treated but it just never felt right. It was almost as if there was a wedge, something in between you two making it impossible for you to fall in love. Someone.

August of 75’

You had gotten a rather urgent call from your grandpa, glumly notifying you that your grandma was sick and only had months to live.

You’d taken the first flight out back to Hawkins.

Your grandparents were all you had, you couldn’t stay in New York knowing you’d never get to see your gram gram again.

You had worked so hard these past two years, but in the end you had decided family came first. You would take a year off from college if it was required, just to help your papa after gram passed.

Walking out of the airport and into the warm summer sun of Hawkins was bittersweet.

This is the first time you’d be here while Eddie wasn’t. There wasn’t a moment that passed where you didn’t think about him. You questioned whether he’d be mad that he didn’t hear from you after all this time, or even care at all.

More than anything you hoped he was okay.

You never kept up with the news and what was going on over there. It was too much, too real.

September of 75’

Your gram had passed three weeks after your arrival back in Hawkins, you had done your best to stay by her bedside as your papa got things arranged for her eventual funeral.

You were numb for the first couple days until you had eventually broken down and sobbed for a good hour and a half.

The thought of losing Eddie made the tears fall even harder. You loved your gram but you were in love with Eddie, you knew that now. If he didn’t make it, you didn’t know how you’d handle it. How you’d ever move on.

You could kick yourself for not writing to him, at least to ask if he was okay.

What if he thinks you don’t care about him now? You’d hope he’d understand that college was so busy for you.

21st of September 1975

Grams funeral had been lovely, a celebration of her life with her closest friends and loved ones.

The funeral house was a quaint little tudor style home. Her pictures had been displayed beautifully among a table of red roses.

You cried when the funeral director had closed her casket for good.

25th of September 1975

You had spent your morning and afternoon cleaning your grandparents house. Your papa left on a fishing trip, said he couldn’t be in this house any longer.

You understood how he must be feeling, stuck in a place that holds so many memories of you and the love of your life, that would be hard for anyone.

You decide to order a pizza and watch a movie after your warm shower.

You slip into a pink nightgown that sat just above your knees before making your way towards the bathroom to brush your hair and teeth. Just as you were flipping the light switch off and walking out into the hall the doorbell echoed throughout the house.

They sure do deliver pizza fast

You thought to yourself as you counted the money in your purse that had been sitting on the entry table.

“Wow, I just placed my order ten minutes—” the words die on your tongue as you swing the door open. Standing there on the front porch in a Black Sabbath shirt, blue jeans and shorter hair than you were used to, was Eddie.

Your Eddie.

He looked almost as stunned to see you, as you were to see him.

“Hey, I thought you’d be back in New York by now.” Eddie assumed as his eyes took in the expanse of your body.

“No, I uh I decided to stay.” You utter as you nervously play with the hem of your pink gown.

Your action pulls the dress up higher on your leg, exposing more of your upper thigh.

Eddie’s eyes shoot down to the area before looking back up at you.

“I came by to give my condolences to your grandfather.” He says with a sad smile.

“Oh yeah, he won’t be back for a couple days.” You respond, finally dropping your gown before smoothing it out with nervous hands.

“Well, my condolences to you.” He says with a far off look in his eyes.

This man standing here is so different from the Eddie you once knew. His posture is immaculate, his arm and legs stiff as stone and the brightness of his eyes now dull and almost nonexistent.

“Do you wanna come in? I ordered pizza and I was gonna watch a film.” You say with a hint of desperation.

“I uh, I shouldn’t. I should go.” Eddie says before he begins to walk away, he stops in his tracks and shoots a glance back at you.

“Why didn’t you write to me?” Eddie’s face is so stoic you can’t tell if he’s sad or just curious.

“I wanted to, Eddie. I was just so busy—” you begin but Eddie doesn’t want to hear anymore.

His black boots carry him back to his van. He can’t stand there and listen to how you’ve moved on, or had the time of your life in college and forgot about him.

2 days later

You had been beating yourself up for what felt like days.

He had every right to feel the way he did, to be mad and angry. You couldn’t blame him for that.

But you’d be damned if he didn’t at least know these feelings you’d been harboring for him.

You were both home now, nothing was holding you back from finally confessing to Eddie that he’s who you want.

You decide to bake a cherry pie, before getting ready and heading over to forest hills.

You would get on your knees and grovel if it meant Eddie would forgive you. Just because you didn’t write to him didn’t mean you didn’t think about him everyday. You couldn’t count how many nights you’d lay in bed touching yourself to thoughts of him, you hadn’t even gone all the way with Brendan, you couldn’t. Not with Eddie at the forefront of every thought you had.

You pull up to the familiar trailer, not much has changed aside from far less beer cans littering the ground.

You walk up the steps, pie in hand as you knock one, two, three times on the dingy white door.

“One sec.” A familiar voice calls out from the other side.

The door swings open, Eddie is standing there shirtless. The only article of clothing on his very toned and muscular body were his old Hawkins high gym shorts. You were pretty sure he’d never actually worn them in high school.

His face looks even more stunned than when he showed up on your doorstep a couple days ago.

“What are you doing here?” The look on his face was hard and impossible to read.

“Eddie, please just let me explain myself. Can I please come in and talk?” You held the pie out to him as if some kind of peace offering.

“Is it cherry?” He says with absolutely no emotion.

“It is.” You confirm

There’s a long pause before his voice gruffly retorts

“Fine.” He moves out of the doorway allowing you to walk through, your bodies barely rub together as you pass but shockwaves are sent throughout, you could feel them all the way down to your toes.

You set the pie down on the yellowing countertop.

Eddie digs in the cabinets for a knife, two plates and two forks.

The gesture makes you smile to yourself as you sit in the little two seater kitchenette.

Eddie cuts the pie, setting your plate in front of you, while he takes the seat closest to the telephone hanging on the wall.

“So go ahead…” Eddie says with a mouthful of your cherry pie.

“I’m so sorry Ed… I had almost no time for anything, New York is so fast paced and chaotic, I really had no time… but I thought about you constantly.” You admit as you lightly stab your pie with your fork.

“I thought about you, too.” Eddie whispers, your eyes find eachothers before he looks away, taking another bite of the pie. “This is really good, thank you.” He says with another mouthful.

Usually you would be disgusted by a man talking with his mouth full of food, but with Eddie you couldn’t help but find it endearing and cute.

“Yeah, it’s the least I could do.” You say before finally taking a bite of your own.

“So how have you been?” You were almost afraid to ask such a question, after everything he’s gone through, everything he’s had to see.

“I’ve been good, just getting back into the groove of being home, ya know.” He says with a smile that has yet to reach his eyes.

“Yeah, I do.” You murmur before standing up and walking to the sink to wash your crumb filled dish.

Once it’s dried and put away and you’ve repeatedly gone over the spiel in your head about how you want to confess your undying love to the man seated a couple feet away, you turn around, eyes meeting him as you realize his chocolate browns have been on you this whole time.

“Eddie, I need to tell you something…”

He stands from his seat, bringing his plate to the sink, carelessly dropping it in before he turns back to face you.

It’s like he’d grown a whole foot, he was towering over you now, looking down at you with those doe eyes you’d so often thought about.

“What do you need to tell me?” He whispers as he steps closer to you, his black boots kissing your brown wooden clogs.

The words almost die in your throat at his close proximity and how fast your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if it could be heard from his place in front of you, surely if he stepped any closer it would be.

“I’m in love with you, Eddie.” Your eyes dart across his handsome face meanwhile biting at your lip out of nervousness as you wait for him to say something, anything.

He exhales a deep breath as his shoulders drop into a relaxed state.

“Fuck,” he huffs before pulling you into a tight hug. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you, sweetheart.” His voice is muffled by your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder.

You pull away, grabbing his face with your small hands. You look him in the eyes before you begin speaking—

“I’m so sorry Eddie, I’m so sorry for everything. I should’ve known that you were it for me. It just took me a little longer, but I promise I’m here now.” Your foreheads meet as tears run down your cheek, “I’m here now.” You repeat.

“I love you so much, princess.” He whispers before he’s pulling you into a tender kiss, that soon grows more and more needy.

He slips his tongue into your mouth and they simultaneously glide together. You can taste the salt from the tears that have fallen onto both of your lips. It makes the kiss that more meaningful.

“You still celibate?” Eddie asks after breaking the kiss. His smirk tells you he’s joking, but you don’t care, you need him. You’ve waited too long for this.

“I didn’t have sex in college, not even once.” You admitted before kissing his lips again, “I’ve been waiting for you.” The longing look in Eddie’s eyes flash to something that could only be described as hunger.

Without another word, he’s picking you up by the back of your thighs, your legs instinctively wrap around his muscular hips. He’s so strong, the throbbing between your legs gets even worst at the thought of him fucking you just like this.

Eddie made his way down the hall to his old room, you took a glance around noticing most of his things in boxes meanwhile more of Wayne’s things have moved in.

“Are you moving?” You ask curiously.

“Yeah, I got my own place. I’m moving in tomorrow.” He says before softly throwing you on his mattress. “Wayne sorted it out for me while I was…away.” You notice the stiffening of his body immediately, as if even thinking about where he’d been causes such inner turmoil.

“C’mere baby.” You murmur with a saccharine grin, his eyes light up at the pet name, causing your insides to flutter.

He slots himself between your legs, his muscular arms now fisting the bed while your head lays caged between them.

You can feel the way his body slightly trembles.

“It’s okay Ed’s, it’s just me.” You whisper into his ear sending shivers down his spine.

“Just you is a big deal to me, sweetheart.” He smiles before rubbing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I want you to make love to me, Eddie.” You say as you push his shorter hair back to get a better look at the face you've missed for far too long.

He groans before dropping his head to your shoulder.

“Fuck, I want to baby, I really do. But I-I have no idea what I’m doing and you’re you, ya know? I’m gonna make a fool out of myself, and I just can’t do that, not with you.” He lifts his head up to study your face before he begins gently rubbing his nose on your cheek, he places light kisses to the area before he places a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I don’t care, I want you… you don’t even have to do anything, I’ll do it all.” You say before placing kisses of your own across his face. “I need you, Eddie… I’m so wet for you, baby.”

“Jesus, you tryna kill me, woman?” He playfully snarks before blowing a raspberry into the side of your neck making you giggle and squirm away. “Okay yeah, I'm ready.” He admits as his beautiful doe eyes meet yours, he holds your chin between two fingers before sweetly kissing you, again. “I’m so glad it’s with you, sweet girl.” He whispers into your lips.

“I love you.” You whisper back

“I love you.” He feels like he’s in a dream, like one wrong move and you’ll slip through his finger, again.

“Lay on your back.” You bashfully demand, you weren’t used to being the one in charge when having sex, but for Eddie you’d do anything.

Eddie gives you a pointed look as his eyebrows raise high on his half concealed forehead.

Your feet hit the brown scratchy carpet before you’re turning around to give Eddie a little show.

Maybe stripping for him will give him a little more confidence, or it’ll probably just make him really horny… either way was fine with you.

Eddie continues gawking at you in wonder, still a little clueless as to what you were doing.

Such an innocent boy.

You begin to remove your blue jean button up vest, slowly unhooking each one by one.

Eddie catches on after the first button, a devious smirk slowly forms onto his face as he lays back with his head on the pillow. He dramatically swings his hands behind his head and crosses his legs as he enjoys the show.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, sweetheart.” He beams with a wink.

You finally get down to the fifth button before slowly opening it and exposing your bare breast to him.

His eyes widen with shock and his body stiffens along with the member in his gym shorts.

“Holy shit.” He whispers before sitting up to get a better view. “You weren’t wearing a bra this whole time?” His cheeks burn with excitement and nervousness. He flicks his tongue out to wet his pink plump lips before beckoning you closer to him.

You step between his spread legs and look down as Eddie is now eye level with your tits.

He’s only seen boobs in magazines and movies but yours are by far the best. He had a feeling when he used to watch you in that red bikini when you both would hit the community pool during the scorching summers that they were nice. He remembers the way your nipples would poke through the fabric and the way they’d bounce when you’d run away from him.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks as if you didn’t just beg him to fuck you.

“Of course.” You purr back.

Eddie quickly brings both hands to your tits gently massaging them before running a calloused thumb over the hardening bud. The action forces a moan from between your lips making Eddie’s eyes shoot up to yours. He wants to pull that noise from you as much as he can.

“That feel good?” He breathily asks as if he can’t believe you’re letting him touch you like this.

“Feels really good, ed.” you whimper before he’s grazing his other thumb across your peaked nipple making an even more erotic moan leave you.

Your body slightly jerks when you feel Eddie’s wet lips encapsulate your nipple, you look down to see he is already looking at you, looking at your reaction to the way he’s making you feel.

Your eyebrows furrow as you vigorously bite at your lip. The sight in front of you is a scene straight out of your wet dreams, the wet dreams that would play on an instant loop in your twin size bed in your muggy dorm room across from your god fearing roommate.

Eddie continues to lick and suck as his confidence grows, every thrash of his tongue sends a searing shock of electricity to your cunt.

You need him now.

“Lay back for me Eddie baby, let me finish the show.” You whisper as your nails softly scrape against his scalp making him groan with his mouth full, he pulls off with a pop leaving your nipples peaked and cold from the wetness.

“Yes ma’am.” He snickers before scooting back to lay in his previous position.

You completely remove the vest from your body, throwing it towards the end of the bed but it slips off and onto the floor.

You’ll worry about that later.

You begin making work at removing your matching blue jean bell bottoms, slowly inching them down your legs as teasingly as possible for the flustered man who lays just inches from you.

Once your jeans are around your ankles, you make hasty work at removing them before kicking them off somewhere to be dealt with later.

You stand there in your pink cotton panties as Eddie’s eyes travel along your body. He adjusts himself in his shorts before his eyes fall to your last garment of clothing and then back up to meet yours. You know exactly what he’s asking.

So you shove your thumbs in the cotton fabric and remove them albeit much faster than your jeans.

You stand upright before kicking your panties towards where your jeans haphazardly lay.

Once you’re fully exposed to Eddie he darts up on his elbows as his eyes take in every inch; from the patch of hair between your thighs to the soft skin of your legs to the way your hips curve. His aloof disposition is such a stark contrast to the way he’s losing his fucking mind on the inside; he’s on cloud nine, he’s thanking a god he doesn’t even believe in for allowing him to be here and alive for this moment, a moment he’s thought about way too often.

You slowly saunter up to the foot of the bed, ready to straddle Eddie’s lap before he’s placing his hand out to stop you. “There’s no fucking way I’m lasting more than thirty second if you’re on top.” He huffs with a self deprecating smile.

“That’s okay, we can go again later…you’ll eventually learn how to hold it, it’s really not a big deal plus this is about you anyway.” You smile reassuringly before he nods his head for you to continue.

The way you said ‘we can go again later’ alone almost made him cum, so he knows he doesn’t have a fighting chance in hell to last while you're bouncing all pretty on his cock.

Nevertheless, you straddle his waist, the hardness in his shorts already hitting your exposed clit so nicely, you couldn’t help but whine.

“Fuck, this is almost too much.” Eddie whispers before his hands shoot down to your waist as you give his lap an experimental drag of your core, along the soft cotton of his shorts.

“Are you sure about that?” You smirk before your hands fall to his painfully hard cock that is far too clothed for your liking.

You sit back on his thighs, dragging the material down his legs. He begins thrashing around trying to kick them off so desperately, you can’t help but to giggle.

“Oh is that funny?” He says in a stern voice that has you clenching around nothing. You definitely want to dive into that Eddie in the future.

Or right now.

“No, sir. I’m sorry.” You pout with a swift bat of your lashes.

Eddie’s jaw tightens at your words, he doesn’t know why that is turning him on so much but Jesus Christ, is it.

Finally, you look down to where Eddie’s cock lays against his lower stomach. He’s way bigger than you expected and so pretty, the prettiest one you’ve ever seen.

It twitches before your hand slowly moves in to grab it.

“Do you think you could last if I got a little taste of this perfect cock?” You whisper into Eddie’s ear, making the skin there tinge a reddish pink.

“I can barely last with your hand wrapped around me, baby.” He groans in pleasure.

“Okay, we’ll save that for later, too.” You wink, before you spit in the palm of your hand bringing the glob to Eddie’s cock as you stroke him, getting him nice and wet to easily slip inside of you.

“Oh my fuck-” Eddie grits before his eyes snap shut, the skin around them wrinkling as he tries to think of anything but your spit on his dick, as you rub him so expertly.

“I’m gonna put it in now, Ed…you ready?” You ask before he’s rapidly nodding his head, his eyes still held tightly shut.

You lift up, rubbing his wet tip against your already soaked pussy before it begins to breach your hole.

“Oooh fuck.” Eddie whimpers.

You begin to inch your way down slowly so as not to overwhelm him. You’re trying not to go too fast, too soon.

Eddie brings the back of his hand to his mouth and begins biting on the skin as a distraction to what’s going on in his lap. He still can’t look down, or it’ll all be over before it begins.

You finally sink all the way down to the hilt, which has Eddie whimpering and cursing below you.

You study his face and how in pain he looks.

“Hey, do you need me to stop?” His eyes shoot open at your question.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” Eddie huffs as if he’s out of breath. “Please baby, please keep going…you just feel so fucking amazing and I’m trying here, I’m really fucking trying.” His eyes quickly shut, again.

“Ed’s, open your eyes for me…you’re doing so good, just look at me please?” You murmur as you move closer to his face, rubbing at his scalp like you know he likes.

“I can’t.” He whispers.

“Yes, you can.. just look at me, wanna see you when you cum.” That pulls a growl from the back of his throat.

His eyes slowly open as he takes in the sight of you stuffed full of his cock. You begin to move, slowly grinding before you’re bouncing your hips up and down on him. Your tits jiggle with every move and now it’s like he can’t take his eyes off of you.

Your movements get even faster as you lean down to capture his lips with yours. It’s so sloppy and spit filled, making you clench around him. He gasps into the kiss before his hands are moving down to grab at the soft flesh of your ass.

He begins snapping his hips up to meet your movements, making him hit that spot so perfectly.

“Oh my god…right there.” You moan as your face falls in between his neck and jaw.

You begin to whimper as your unexpected orgasm washes over your body. Eddie doesn’t quite know what’s happening but he physically cannot hold on any longer.

“Oh shit, shit- I’m gonna cum.” His head falls back into his stain filled pillow, he bites his lip so hard he’s almost positive he’s breaking skin, before a groan so deep it almost scares him, leaves his mouth. He wonders if he should feel embarrassed but the proud look in your eyes tells him otherwise.

He didn’t even get a chance to ask you where he could cum, he just filled you up without even thinking. That thought made his dick twitch even though it was beginning to soften.

“You did so good, baby.” You coo before allowing him to slowly slide out of you.

Some of his cum falls out of you and onto his spent cock, making his cheeks redden in what you could only assume is embarrassment.

“It’s okay, I’m doing this new trial of this birth control pill that just came out. It's supposed to lessen cramps during that time of the month but it also helps to prevent pregnancy… so we should be good.” You say before giving him a peck on his bruised lips.

You make your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up before bringing a wet washcloth to clean Eddie, too.

His hips jerk when the rag touches him, making you giggle as he tries and fails to hide his bashful face from you.

You find it so cute how shy he’s being. You’ve never seen shy Eddie before, so this is a nice contrast.

He scoots over, making room for you to lay next to him, which you do after setting the cum filled rag on his night stand to be disposed of later.

“You’re fucking incredible, did you know that?” He asks before scooping you up in his arms and moving you closer to him. His arms wrap around your waist as his head burrows into your chest.

“Are you sure you're okay, Eddie?” You softly ask, not sure you want to breach the topic after you two have finally consummated your relationship.

“Of course I’m okay, why do you ask?” He looks up at you curiously, as if he’s surprised you’ve been able to read him so well. Although you always have been good at that.

“You just seem…different.” You whisper the last part before you feel him slightly tense.

“I’m-I just seen some shit, ya know? And it’s kind of hard to go back to your everyday life after witnessing some of the most horrific shit imaginable.” He can’t look you in your eyes when he speaks, he doesn’t want to see the pity that so often lies beneath the sympathy people have recently given him.

“I get that baby, I do…and I’m here, every step of the way, okay? Whatever you need, we'll do it.” You purr as your nails gently graze his back.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper into his hair before you’re both falling into a post sex sleep haze.

October 1977

“Eddie, slow down.” You snort as your boyfriend eagerly speeds down Cherry lane, too excited to get to his mystery destination.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, studying his face for any clues.

“You’ll see, just have some patience, baby.” He knowingly smirks, amused by your uncertainty.

Soon enough, you're pulling up to a light yellow single story house. It’s quite cute, with pink trim on the windows and flower boxes that sit on each window seal.

The grass looks like it’s been very taken care of, it’s almost too green.

Eddie flies to your side, opening your door for you.

You hesitantly step out, your black flats crunching on the orange and brown leaf riddled sidewalk. You’re still wondering where the hell he’s taking you or to who?

“Do you like it?” He asks with a beaming smile as his hand runs through his freshly grown out mane.

“I mean yeah… it’s nice.” You scoff, “who lives here?” You study the house again before looking over to Eddie for an answer.

“We do, sweetheart.” He gleams as he dangles a set of keys in his right hand, a huge satisfied smile adorns his face at your shocked expression.

“This is ours?” You blink at him as if maybe you’ve misunderstood. “Like, you bought it?” Eddie’s face just gets more and more excited with every fleeting moment you stand there in shock.

“Yes, we bought it.” He laughs before throwing the keys towards you. “Go check it out, baby.” You quickly catch the keys and make your way inside, body moving on autopilot as you’re still in shock.

As you look around you notice it’s a charming 1960’s styled, three bedroom house.

You stand in the doorway of the smallest room.

‘It’s perfect’ you whisper to yourself.

“That’ll be the nursery for babygirl.” Eddie says, sauntering up behind you to rub at your growing belly. “Do you like it?” He asks with a proud smile.

“I love it Ed’s, you did so good.” You fervidly muse.

“Let’s check out the backyard, I have another surprise for you out there.” He says before intertwining his fingers with yours and walking you through the house to the beautiful twin doors that lead you to an even more beautiful backyard.

Your eyes take in everything as you stand on the deck, this place is almost too perfect. You’re ready to pinch yourself cause you’re so sure you’re dreaming.

You look around and see a vegetable garden, next to that are gorgeous flower bushes. Whoever lived here before really loved this place as it was treated with the utmost care.

Your eyes continue to scan the yard before it catches on something that causes your eyes to water and your breath to hitch, it’s a big oak tree identical to the one you and Eddie met under.

But that’s not all, Eddie is underneath it on one knee, with a red box in his hand. The tears fall as you walk closer. Yes, this has to be a dream, there is no way this is my life, it’s too perfect.

Once you’re standing in front of your weeping future husband, you realize the ring he’s holding was your gram’s, a beautiful vintage opal.

You remember holding her hand as a kid and playing with it. You’d tell her how much you wanted one just like it, so you could be twins. You sob into your hand at the memory.

“Will you marry me, sweetheart?”

#divider by @v6que #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you

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Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer

Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!

Check out our interview with Clara below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?

The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!

Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #chaaistheanswer

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smileysuh · 11 months

Text

Blood Moon

🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “You know,” Cheol’s lips are feverish against your skin, and he kisses from your collarbone to your breasts, his hot breath driving you wild, “in some cultures, the blood moon is a sign that the moon needs to be worshiped.” His hand moves between your legs, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties while he lets out another groan of need. “Werewolves worship the moon,” he continues. “It’s what makes us who we are, but after I met you…” his other hand tears the front of your dress down, and his teeth graze by your nipple, “let’s just say, you’re all that matters to me now. And I’m going to worship you as if you were the moon.”

tw/cw. blood/claim biting, a/b/o, alpha cheol, big dick cheol, pussy worship, pussy eating, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, sex where his pack can hear it, praise, multiple positions, breeding kink, size kink, overstim, slight dacryphilia, sex on a car & the ground & under the blood moon, wet pussy kink, knotting, rough sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) alpha.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5k

🍭 aus.a/b/o, alpha!Cheol, omega!reader, jealousy, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. when I tell you I need this man to ruin me

Seungcheol’s never been the type of alpha to question his subordinates, but on blood moons, his control goes out the window. When he’d announced during the formation of his pack that he’d be taking on two lesser alphas, and their preexisting betas, some elder wolves had called him crazy. They’d said it was just a matter of time till Jihoon or Soonyoung made an act to overthrow him, but in the eight years since then, Seungcheol’s never truly had any cause to suspect insurrection of any sort.

However this year, things are different. This year, he’s made another risky move that’s been questioned by wolves in and outside of his own pack.

This year, he’d fallen for a human, someone outside any of the strong wolf bloodlines, and he’d taken you as his own. His bite had transformed you into the beta you are now, and he can tell, as you approach him with eyes following your every move, that some of his pack members are still not very happy about it.

Soonyoung, in particular, makes no move to hide his gaze. He looks you up and down, and Seungcheol can even see a flash of his tongue darting out to wet his lips, a hungry spark in his eyes.

“You look upset,” you note, finally making it to your alpha’s side by the bonfire, its flames licking the night sky and casting pretty shadows across your features.

“Is it that obvious?” Seungcheol groans, wrapping an arm around your body while he adjusts the red solo cup in his hand.

“You always wear your heart on your sleeve, Cheol,” you muse, leaning closer to him. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

The alpha lets out a sigh, giving one last warning look to Soonyoung before his gaze dips to focus on you. “Can I tell you something about blood moons?”

“Please,” you nod. “I'd love to hear more, especially from you.”

He’s always enjoyed how eager you are to learn about the ways of the wolves, it’s one of the things that had drawn him to you, and he loves teaching you his culture even more.

“Ancient peoples believed the blood moon was a sort of omen, something that predicted the death or overthrow of a king.”

“I see,” you smile, leaning up to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. “You’re worried someone might have a stupid idea tonight about taking you on as alpha.”

“Others thought that blood moons were a time to explore your dark side. To dive deeper into hidden emotions like rage,” he explains further. “I think we both know that some members of my pack are still harbouring a grudge against me for my actions this year.”

“They’ll get over it,” you assure him. “And if they don’t, what’s anyone going to do about it? No one here can best you, they’d be stupid to try.”

Seungcheol knows that. Aside from being a force to be reckoned with all by himself, Seungcheol’s inner circle includes Mingyu, one of the biggest wolves he’s ever seen. Even if Soonyoung was to pick a fight with Seungcheol, backed up by Minghao, Dino and Jun, they’d never be able to overtake both him and Mingyu.

Regardless of these facts, your calming words do nothing on his restless mind. Blood moons have always been a time of heightened emotional energy, especially for the wolves so connected to the lunar force.

Instead of saying anything else, Cheol simply pulls you closer, hoping that your presence in his arms is enough to stop him from doing anything rash.

When you realize Seungcheol’s cup is empty, you break away from his side, giving the alpha a kiss that lingers before you head off to get more liquor. You’ve been feeling how tense your mate is all night, and you hope that another drink might soothe what you’re unable to.

As you walk up the beach, you notice the sound of someone following you. While you’re still getting used to heightened wolf senses, you’re conscious enough to note that the footfalls are lighter than your lumbering alphas, and you don’t dare look behind you to check who your new shadow is.

You’re safe enough on this beach with the pack around you, and despite Seungcheol’s obvious agitation and paranoia, you’d meant it when you’d told him people would be stupid to try anything tonight.

When you reach the camping table housing all the booze, you move calmly, reaching for the aged bottle of bourbon that Seungcheol loves. Your shadow takes the opportunity to make himself known, stepping next to you and reaching for his own can of beer.

“You look good tonight,” Soonyoung says, opening his drink and turning to look at you.

“Thank you,” you smile, trying to be respectful to the alpha. “I know it’s a blood moon, but it still felt fitting to wear white, besides, Seungcheol loves this dress.”

“I can see why.” Soonyoung’s eyes move down and then back up, focusing on your breasts for a few seconds while you continue to prepare your mate’s bourbon. “You know, when we heard Cheol had found himself a human to dote on, lots of us wondered why he didn’t just go for some juicy omega. But, seeing you tonight, I can see you might be even tastier than the other girls that used to fawn over him.”

You take a breath, screwing the lid back onto the bottle of bourbon before setting it down and turning to look at Soonyoung. You know he’s trying to get a rise out of you, but you won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Do you have something else to say to me, Soonyoung?”

“Just that…” he licks his lips, leaning closer to you. “I know you don’t come from our world, so it’s not like you had your pick of alphas, and I just figured, maybe there might be a better match for you than him.”

“A better match,” you repeat his words. “Like you?”

Soonyoung shrugs, flashing a grin. “You’d never know till you give me a chance to prove myself.”

“All things considered, I think you’re pretty lucky I was born human.”

“Really?” His grin widens. “And why’s that, gorgeous?”

“Because if I was an omega, I’d run off and tell Cheol about this and he’d kill you tonight.”

The smirk drops from Soonyoung’s face, and he stares you down. “Cheol wouldn’t choose you over me.”

You sigh. “If you’re willing to bet your life on that, I can always go ask him right now.” Soonyoung stays quiet and you nod. “That’s what I thought. I’d say it’s been nice talking with you, but we both know that would be a lie. Have a good night, Soonyoung.”

You pick up your drink and walk away.

This time, the alpha doesn’t follow.

No matter how safe you feel amongst the pack, it’s still something of a relief when you make it to Seungcheol’s side again.

He looks at you with concern, taking the cup from your hands so he can wrap a protective arm around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “You were gone a while,” he notes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod. It’s a small white lie, but you truly believe Seungcheol would tear Soonyoung in two if you tell him what just took place, so you avoid disclosure. What Seungcheol doesn’t know can’t hurt him… or Soonyoung. “I was just thinking…” you continue, tracing a finger up the front of your mate’s black v-neck, “I know I’m not generally someone who’s too fond of public displays of aggression and ownership, but… if there was ever a night to prove I belong to you, it would be tonight.”

Seungcheol blinks at you, swallowing thickly while he considers your proposition. His gaze dips to where your breasts are pressed against his chest, and you can feel his cock beginning to harden where it’s trapped in his pants between your bodies. “So you want me to take you right here?” he asks. “On the beach? In front of everyone?”

“Cheol,” you laugh, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “that’s a bit much. I was thinking… we could go to the parking lot where your car is. It’s close enough that people will be able to hear, but far enough that I’d still be comfortable. After all, if I’m yours and only yours, my body should be for your eyes only.”

“I’m not sure where this came from,” Seungcheol admits. “But you know I could never say no to you. Let’s get out of here, princess, because if we don’t, I am going to fuck you on this beach where everyone can see.”

You tug out of his embrace, flashing him a mischievous smile. “Okay alpha, then you better chase me.”

You turn on your heel in the sand, bolting towards the grassy parking lot while other members of his pack watch you. It feels like freedom to be running through the cool night air under the blood moon, and you can hear your alpha’s footfalls as he chases you.

He could catch you in a second, you both know that, but he’s purposefully moving slower than you, letting you be exhilarated by the idea of a chase. You know it turns him on as much as you, and you giggle to yourself at the naughtiness of it all.

Cheol has always brought out your wild side, even when you were human, and now, you get to revel in the primal attraction, the push and pull with the alpha that’s shown you the world, and now, the blood moon.

You marvel at the new strength of your body, the way you can make it to the parking lot, which is a couple hundred meters down the beach, without even being very winded.

The moment you reach the vehicle, Seungcheol’s hot body is pressing against your back, boxing you against his large, black truck with both hands on either side of you. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he groans, rubbing his cock against your ass.

“I could say the same about you,” you gasp, turning so you can face him. “My big sexy alpha-”

He’s kissing you the moment the words leave you, and you tangle your hands through his dark hair tugging him closer while his mouth works against your own. He tastes like bourbon, and something about it turns you on even more. Your mate’s teeth drag across your lower lip and you let out a groan, lifting your thigh to wrap around his waist.

“Cheol,” you whimper, taking a breather as he moves his mouth to your neck, finding your sweet spot and making you moan again. “I need you-”

With a growl, the alpha picks you up, fingers digging into your ass as he moves around to the back of his truck. You begin to kiss his throat as he gets the front panel open, and then he hoists you up to rest you on it.

His hands find your thighs, pushing your white dress up and grabbing at your flesh.

“Just fuck me-” you plead, knowing your panties are already soaked. Cheol just does things to you, and you wish he’d do more.

“You know,” Cheol’s lips are feverish against your skin, and he kisses from your collar bone to your breasts, his hot breath driving you wild, “in some cultures, the blood moon is a sign that the moon needs to be worshiped.”

His hand moves between your legs, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties while he lets out another groan of need.

“Werewolves worship the moon,” he continues. “It’s what makes us who we are, but after I met you…” his other hand tears the front of your dress down, and his teeth graze by your nipple, “let’s just say, you’re all that matters to me now. And I’m going to worship you as if you were the moon.”

“Fuck, alpha-” you whimper, throwing your head back while he begins to suck on your nipple, applying more pressure to your clit with the hands you adore so much.

“That’s right,” Cheol growls, “I’m your alpha. Your only alpha. And I’m going to take care of you, like you deserve.”

“Please, I need it-”

“You need it?” His hair brushes by your chest, and then he pulls back just enough to look up at you, pushing your panties to the side so two of his large fingers can slip into your soaked core. “Tell me what you need, princess, alpha will give it to you.”

“You know what I need,” you whine.

“I want to hear you say it.”

You let out a sound of frustration, tangling your hands in Seungcheol’s hair. Then you push his head down, and your mate begins to laugh at you, his fingers picking up speed as they work to open your core.

“I said use your words,” he tuts, “not push me around.”

“I need you to worship me,” you tell him, “the way only you can.”

“That’s more like it,” he hums, satisfied as his hot kisses begin to move down your body.

He pulls his fingers out of your pussy and you whine loudly at the loss, but he needs his hands to push your dress up. He uses his teeth to tear your panties down, and you whimper at the feeling of him, watching him while unmatched lust burns through you.

“I’m going to keep these for myself,” he says, pocketing your panties before he spreads your legs, forcing you to fall backward against the bed of his truck, your elbows cushioning your fall and propping you up.

“Alpha,” you moan, a shiver running through you when he begins to kiss your thigh, working closer and closer to where you need him most.

“Fuck,” he groans, placing a kiss on your pussy that has you squealing with delight. “I love the sounds you make.” Your mate looks up at you with dark, dilated pupils. “You really do want everyone to hear this, don’t you, princess?”

The thought excites you more than it ever has before, and Seungcheol grins while watching you. “That’s what I thought. Who’s my dirty girl?”

“I am,” you gasp when his thumb comes up to play with your clit.

“You’re dripping, princess,” Cheol notes. “Just the way I like it.”

He’s forcing his head between your thighs a moment later, tongue lapping the length of your pussy and making you cry out into the night air. Your hands fly down to grab onto his hair, and your alpha growls, the vibration running through your clit and causing you to pant while his tongue invades your wet hole.

“Oh my god-” you whimper, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get more-

His palm lands on your lower abdomen and he forces you down. It’s crazy how much strength he has in just one hand, and you find yourself completely pinned to the bed of his truck while he eats you out like he’s a starving man.

The sounds coming from between your legs are absolutely lewd, not only can you hear your soaked pussy and his wet tongue, but he’s moaning loudly, thoroughly enjoying working you up the way only he knows how.

“Alpha,” you whimper desperately, already aching from how close you are.

Cheol lets out another groan, the vibrations making your legs twitch as you teeter on the edge of pleasure. “I’m gonna cum-” you gasp, tightening your grip on his hair so he can’t pull away.

But Seungcheol has no intention of pulling away. In fact, he presses his face even deeper into your pussy, lapping at you and licking- then his lips suction around your clit and you’re a complete gonner.

A scream leaves your mouth, your eyes clenching shut as your orgasm overtakes you.

Seungcheol has given you great orgasms before, mind altering, earth shattering orgasms- but nothing has ever been like this. Your brain goes completely blank as the feeling of absolute ecstasy overwhelms your body, bringing tears to your eyes while he continues to worship your core with an expert tongue.

“Alpha,” you whimper, overstimulated by his mouth alone.

Cheol finally lets up, pulling away from your pussy and taking a deep breath. You can feel him exhale against you, and it causes you to twitch from stimulation. You go to close your legs while Seungcheol straightens and looks down at you, but his hands are quick to pry them open.

“You think I’m done with you?” he laughs. “Nice try princess, but I’m not anywhere near being done yet.”

His thumb finds your clit again and your whole body jolts at the contact, your thighs threatening to close-

Seungcheol pushes them open again, letting out a growl. “You better keep these legs wide for me, princess, and take what your alpha is giving you.”

You mewl in response, whimpering when two of his digits enter your core again. “I had you on my tongue, and now I’m going to give you my fingers before I split you open with my cock. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven,” you whisper, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his large fingers moving in and out of you slowly.

“That’s my girl,” Seungcheol grins, eyes focusing between your legs. “You have no fucking clue how sexy you are.”

You groan at the praise. You’ve always loved how Seungcheol takes his time with you, verbalizing his attraction and always making you feel like the only girl in the entire universe.

When you’d been a part of the human world, you’d heard stories about alpha wolves with harems of girls, omegas, that are even shared amongst packs. Cheol had changed your entire perception of his kind, and he’d even talked you into joining him, although… it hadn’t taken much persuasion on his part.

“Look at you, clenching on my fingers when I talk nice,” Cheol lets out a laugh. “You really are my little praise princess, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, alpha,” you nod, moaning as his fingers pick up their pace inside of you.

“I want to watch you cum again,” he tells you. “I love watching you lose control.”

“Then make me cum,” you whisper. “Make me scream.”

Seungcheol grins. “You’ve got it, princess.”

He strokes his fingers up, finding the spot inside of you that always makes your toes curl. His other hand finds your lower abdomen, pinning you down, and you know exactly what he’s going to do next.

Your alpha mate has always had a thing for making your pussy soaked, and he’s an expert at getting you there with his fingers. No man has ever made you squirt like Seungcheol has, and no man ever will again.

“Alpha,” you whimper as his digits begin to apply more pressure to your g-spot, and you grab at the strong forearm of the hand pinned to your abdomen, needing an anchor, any anchor, so you don’t simply fly away off the bed of his truck to float through cloud nine.

“That’s it,” Seungcheol groans. “Listen to how wet your pretty pussy is.”

You love how you can hear yourself, love how you can already feel wetness between your legs as Seungcheol’s fingers work their magic. You’re a moaning mess now, and when your mate commands, “rub your clit for me,” you can hardly refuse.

Your shaky digits find your most sensitive spot, and now you can feel even more fluid gushing out of you as pleasure erupts through your form.

“Just like that, pretty girl,” Seungcheol praises you. “You’re always so fucking good for me.”

Squirting isn’t like regular orgasms, it’s a slow pressure in the pit of your stomach that builds as his fingers continue roughly inside of you, until you’re twitching and gasping and crying out. You can’t carry on with your clit, all you can do is grab at Cheol’s forearm again, taking what he gives you until he’s satisfied.

“Look at you fucking cum,” Seungcheol groans, watching you writhe on the bed of his truck while you gush around his fingers.

You’re crying again, and you can feel wet hot tears rolling down your cheeks, but you’d never tell him to stop. Not when you know you’ll be rewarded as soon as he’s had enough, as soon as he loses his own control and has to fuck you.

“Shit, princess,” Seungcheol growls, pulling his digits out of your core. “My turn.”

He grabs you with both hands, and you can feel your wetness on your skin from the fingers that had just been inside of you. In one rough motion, he pulls you off the bed of the truck, and a small scream or surprise escapes you.

Your legs feel like jelly, but your mate is quick to turn you around, forcing your upper body to lay over the front panel and bed of his truck. You hear the clink of his belt as he undoes it with expert fingers, and then he lifts up your dress. In one solid motion, he slides his whole cock into you, taking your breath away as you gasp and claw your hands against the cool metal truck frame.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Seungcheol groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds still for a moment, letting you feel his massive cock stretching you out. “So wet and perfect.”

At this point, you can hardly think, let alone respond with words. The most you can do is moan loudly, pushing your ass back in an attempt to get him deeper-

“That’s right, princess,” the alpha laughs. “You’re so desperate to be fucked, aren’t you?”

“Yes, alpha-”

“Then I guess I better deliver.” He pulls almost all the way out of you before slamming back in, his hips making an audible slap against your ass while your whine of pleasure rings through the night.

“Alpha?” you whimper, a dirty, sinful, wonderful thought popping into your mind.

“Yes, princess?” He ruts into you harder, finding a brutal pace that has the entire truck rocking with each powerful thrust.

“Do you-” you choke back a moan, “Do you think… if you bred me during a blood moon… do you think it would make our pups strong alphas like you?”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans loudly, fingers digging harder against your hips as his motions get even wilder. “You want me to breed you, princess?”

“God, yes!” you cry, pussy fluttering at the mere idea of it.

Your mate lets out a growl, fucking you so hard and deep you can feel him everywhere. He’s all consuming. You’ve practically forgotten that he’s fucking you on a car with his pack so closeby- all that matters is him right now, and what he can give you.

“Want me to fill you up until you’re practically bursting with my cum?”

“Yes, alpha-” you moan desperately, closing your eyes as you press your cheek against the cool metal truck bed.

“Want me to knot you? Spread you open so you’re ruined for anyone else?”

You’re already ruined for anyone else, and you both know it. Although you’ve been with Seungcheol for five months, you’ve never helped him through a rut, as having babies has never been something either of you particularly wanted-

But now? Now you want him, you want his knot. You want it so desperately you feel the need from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes.

“God, yes, please- make me yours forever,” you cry. “I’m yours alpha, forever yours-”

“Fuck, princess,” Seungcheol groans. “I need to see you.”

He pulls his cock from your aching core and you whine at the loss, only for him to grab you and throw you on the grassy ground next to the truck. He’s never been this rough before, and you’re slightly winded, but then he’s on top of you, sliding back into your core while his lips find yours.

You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders and your legs around his hips, anchoring him to you while he fucks you into the ground.

You don’t care about the grass, or even the bits of sand you feel against your back. You’re so completely focused on Cheol-

“I’m going to mark you again,” Seungcheol tells you, voice low as his lips move to your neck.

The first time he’d bitten you, claimed you as his own, and turned you into a wolf like him, it had been a euphoric sensation, and your toes curl in anticipation. He’d marked you on your left side, but tonight, he goes for the right, and you realize he’s intent on there being no mistake who you belong to. That you’re taken.

“Fuck, you want me to bite you, don’t you, princess?” He groans, breath hot against your skin. “You’re squeezing me like a fucking vice-”

“Alpha, please-” you whimper, needing him more than you’ve ever needed anything in your entire life.

You don’t have to beg again, because you feel his sharp teeth grazing your throat a moment later. You hold tightly onto his broad shoulders, bracing yourself for the pleasured pain that shoots through you as he digs his fangs into your flesh.

“Alpha-” you cry desperately, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he bites deeper, ensuring a scar that will last a lifetime.

You can feel the base of his cock swelling inside of you, and the feeling is foreign, wonderful. It’s a new kind of stretch, and it leaves you gasping, opening your eyes to look up at the blood moon.

This is right. You know that.

“Alpha, I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, holding him tightly as your orgasm builds and builds, spurred on by the teeth still digging into your skin. It’s a perfect kind of pain, a pain only he can provide, and it leaves you breathless as you tip over the edge.

Your aching core clamps down on Seungcheol’s length, and you cry out at the feeling of his knot now fully grown inside of you-

Your mate lets out a growl, and a moment later you feel his cum coating your insides, filling you up like you’ve never been filled before. He can hardly thrust anymore, his knot too big to move inside of you, but you don’t mind. You think if he fucks you any longer, you might truly pass out from the pleasure.

Seungcheol releases your throat, pulling back to look down at you. You can see your blood on his mouth. When you’d been human, blood had been something scary, something dirty, but now that you’re a wolf, it’s inviting, and you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to your own.

He groans, tongue dancing across yours while the metallic taste of your own blood washes over you.

With him buried balls deep in your pussy in the grass next to his truck with his pack nearby, his knot keeping him locked inside of you, and the taste of your own blood on his tongue- you think this might be the dirtiest, most sinful thing the two of you have ever done, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

There’s no shame, only acceptance, and an understanding in the back of your mind that you’ve reached your most primal peak. That this is how things are meant to be for wolves, and you are now truly a part of that.

You feel certain that after tonight, no one will ever question you as his mate again, and the thought fills you with an indescribable warmth.

“Cheol,” you whisper, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. “I love you, so, so much.”

Your mate laughs softly, pushing some hair out of your face while he looks down at you. “I love you too, princess. More than you can even imagine.”

The two of you catch your breath, holding each other close like the young lovers you are, and you slowly feel the knot inside of you begin to die down.

When Cheol is finally able to pull out of you, he sits up on his knees, tucking his cock back into his jeans before running a hand through his hair.

He’s silhouetted against the night sky and the moon, and you think it’s possible he’s never been sexier.

“As much as I want to keep these panties,” he says, pulling them out of his pocket, “I also want to make sure my cum stays in you longer. You don’t mind if I put these back on you, do you, princess?”

You shake your head, smiling at him as he gently lifts your foot, then the other, pressing a kiss to your calf as he slides your panties back on.

“I bit you pretty bad,” your mate confesses. “Let me get you up, get you seated on my truck, and I’ll grab the first aid kid to bandage your neck.”

There’s not one word of protest from you, and you marvel at how easy it is for him to lift you off the ground, setting you on the front panel.

“Wait here,” he says softly, giving you one last chaste kiss before he heads to fumble in the front cabin. He comes back a minute later holding a red first aid kit, and you watch him in a daze as he gets out the gauze and bandages.

“You might be a beta,” Seungcheol tells you, as he begins to gently wrap your neck, “but you have the sex drive of an omega, don’t you, princess?”

“Only for you, alpha.” You flash him a dopey smile, completely brain-dead after the best sex of your life. “Only for you.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Alpha cheol has me in an entire brain rot- I'll never be the same after him - Mingyu now has a part in this series too, read more about the Blood Moon pack here

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🔮 preview. Seungcheol releases your hip, and he reaches down to grab your torso, wrapping one hand around your breast as he hauls you to your knees, your back now pressed firmly to his chest. “Look around,” he says in your ear, and you force your lids open to gaze out at the dark treeline. You notice multiple eyes staring back at you, lit by the reflection of the moon. You can’t see which members of the pack are watching, can’t make out any faces, but your pussy throbs knowing they’re all focused on you. Seungcheol’s free hand slips down to rub at your clit, and you whimper, wiggling in his grasp. He holds you tighter against his strong torso, licking your throat. “I can’t believe how much this turns you on. Filthy little princess.”

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, fucking outside in a field, voyeurism, his pack watching you get fucked, blow job, deep throating, hand job, unprotected sex, dirty talk, overstim, multiple positions/orgasms, praise, semi public nudity, possessive cheol, size kink, big dick cheol, breast worship, sex marks, choking/neck grabbing, rough sex, primal doggy style, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) alpha.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!reader

bonus

Seungcheol wakes up as the sunlight begins to creep through the blinds and illuminate your room. He lets out a groan, instinctively reaching out to grab you, pulling you tight to his body.

“Morning, alpha,” you whisper, fingers threading through his hair and massaging his scalp.

He’d woken up with a stiffie, and the feeling of your hands has him releasing a moan of pleasure, his cock throbbing in the confines of his breifs.

He takes a deep breath, wanting to be engulfed by you, by your scent-

And that’s when he notices a sweeter note to your usual smell.

His eyes open, and he blinks at you, the fogginess of sleep slowly dissipating as he gets his bearings.

“What?” you question, having picked up on the shift in his energy. “Is something wrong?”

“You just-” he swallows thickly, “you smell so good.”

“Really?”

“More than normal,” he confirms, sitting up suddenly to look at you. His eyes take in your body, and he moves the covers to get a better view of your form. His fingers reach out to trace your skin, smoothing over your collarbone and down to your breasts. When he reaches your belly button, he circles it, and you let out a giggle.

Seungcheol can’t help but smile, gaze flashing to meet yours. He has his suspicions about why your scent may have changed, he’s heard stories about this, but he’s never experienced it for himself-

“I think the blood moon blessed us, princess.”

“Hmm?” Your brows furrow in confusion, and you reach down to guide his hand lower-

His fingers find your core through your panties, and he lets out a groan at how wet you already are. As he moves lower, shimmying down the bed to get between your thighs, the smell grows, confirming his suspicions.

“You’re pregnant,” he says softly. “I can smell it on you.”

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auecho · 1 month

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THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY ೀ kafka & blade ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‘oh girl, don’t hold back - let it out!’

𝓦ARNINGS ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ fem!reader - threesome - drug use - dubcon [themes] - slowburn - ft. jing yuan - overstimulation - blade has a crush on the reader - cunnilingus - reader is a bit of a pushover - roommate!kafka - ex-stepsister!kafka - sexting - cum eating [?] - creampie - asphyxiation && gagging - praise - grinding - making out - spit - dumbification - kafka is . . kafka - masturbation [f. & m.] - orgasm control - squirting - creampie - mating press - everybody is slightly ooc - not proofread - minors & dark content antis do not interact ! ! !

𝓐UTHOR’S 𝓝OTE ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ hihii first full fic ^3^ n first post ! ! so welcome 2 my acc,, m name is echo n i’m pleased to meet u 🫡 eek ‘m so excited, i’ve been sittin n workin on this idea for a while so i hope u enjoy it ! i listened to kiss land by the weeknd writing this and i think it fits rly well sooo >_o this is dark content so viewer discretion advised ! please don’t read if not ur taste T_T im posting this later than expected m soo sry :c reblogs n feedback very appreciated cuz the guidelines r gna get mi < / 3 ! !

𝓔CHOES ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ kiss land , the weeknd - valentina , daniel caesar - fill the void , the weeknd - sdp interlude , travis scott - the worst guys , childish gambino & chance the rapper .

𝓦ORD 𝓒OUNT ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ 20.7k+

SHE CARRIES A distinct scent with her: cinnamon, champagne…and a twinge of mischief. It flurries in the air and infects your brain like the plague. She had this certain cadence about her: an aura drawn up in a slick figure and even slicker tongue, characterized by a sultry red color. That was Kafka. She's a bombshell, delivering a traumatic shock that you can only hope to forget. You tried to forget — tried to cloud that era of your life to no avail. She kicked down the rock blockade you'd built, welcoming herself into your life again with an impressive amount of effort.

“Elio said she has nowhere to go! She can't stay with him because he moved into a one-bedroom after the divorce! She's about to be couch-hopping at 22 — it’s sad!!” your mother whined. Her emphasis lay on certain words, pathetic tones emanating from the manipulation of her words. You're weak, standing hunched with a backbone made of cotton candy. “But, mom—” “And she begged Elio not to bother us—bother you—but he did it anyway because we’re always family. Family needs each other, family depends on one another.”

She'd pestered a yes out of you, and since the syllable passed through your lips, you've been counting your blessings.

After all, Kafka was an all-devouring curse: blessings were her kryptonite.

Exactly one week later, you bit your nails anxiously and breathed deeply so much so that you got lightheaded. It's been years, she may have changed, you comforted yourself. Your mind worked on its splintering tooth and nail to soothe your wild imagination. Kafka was always going to be Kafka — it was just a matter of whether she developed or if she enabled perversion.

When she engulfed you in a hug you almost passed out smelling her again. Hearing her was another thing, seeing her was even worse. Smelling her — that warm, spicy scent that burns but entices was the pinch to reality you needed. In the flesh, Kafka stood. In all of her menacing glory - ready to flip your world upside down.

“Missed you, little mouse. Ugh, how’ve you been?” you fought the urge to shiver. The nickname and her ever-tickling tone — God, you weren't prepared.

“Good,” is all you muttered. ‘Way better before.’ you wanted to add.

“Mmm, good, I'm glad. I got nervous when Mom said my baby moved out all alone.”

My baby. You could really just…die. She was just as charismatic as before. Possibly even more, given her blatant maturity. You would think it was a play on your age, but truly it was endearment from her: her form of caring for you.

“Who would've thought we’d be living together again? We’re gonna have so much fun!” In the giggle that slipped from her throat, lies mischief. She picks up a box out of the trunk, turning on her heels with the biggest, most Kafka smile ever. She was always…unique in her definitions of fun. One could only imagine the roller coaster you were riding.

When you make your way to your apartment, you just breathe. Breathing is the only thing that can stabilize you. The jumble of nerves that bounce around inside of you relaxes at your exhales. You're not shaking anymore, or feeling your skin heat and clam up, making it easy to lead Kafka into her room.

“Oh, wow. All this space, all alone? You've really grown up, little mouse.” She compliments with a sigh. The box in her hands now sits on the ground. You flush, dusting your hands on your shirt, “Oh, thanks. Mom helps from time to time.” Even though you would much rather have your independence.

She looks around at the space, the room occupied by nothing except a naked bed and an empty dresser. It's an awkward 30-second silence before she breaks it, “Thank you, again. You're really saving my ass,”

And again, you're wrapped in Kafka’s arms, forced to awkwardly pat her back and stare at the wall across from you as if it were to save you. “No problem…again,”

The hug you share births goosebumps on your skin. Her hands glide across the small of your back, nimble fingers dancing lightly across the surface. The tickle is the least of your worries — the blooms of heat that surge in her wake are what blows your eyes wide open. Kafka’s hugs are tight and warm. Almost comforting if it wasn't for the way she ghosted her lips over your ear just right, making you tense. You hate it because it's something you've grown used to. You like it a lot more than you probably should, actively leaning into her touch after a few seconds.

“We should probably get the rest of your boxes…” You mutter. Kafka sighs, pulling off of you slowly. It's almost as if she's savoring the feeling of you in her hands. “I’ll get them. I shouldn't inconvenience you more—”

“—It’s fine. I don't mind helping,” She laughs and squishes your cheeks between her fingers, “You're too cute.” booping your nose for emphasis.

And she couldn't stop saying it. It almost felt condescending the way “You're so cute,” fell from her lips every time you did something. Your out-of-breath huffs or triumphant sighs elicited the remark again and again as you hauled her luggage up to your apartment. You gave up by the last box and stretched out on her floor, and Kafka only laughs harder as she begins to unpack.

“Do you want me to help you?” You groggily breathe out. Moving is exhausting, and you're not even the one moving.

Tucking the sleeves of the shirt as she folds, Kafka shakes her head no with a chuckle. “You can help me by showering. I'll finish up and order some food, ‘kay? Consider it my thanks.”

“But you've already thanked me—” “—And I'm doing it again.” She cuts you off. Your eyes meet and she cracks a smile, “C’mon, up you go. The longer you take, the longer you have to wait to sleep.”

Kafka is someone impossible to argue with. You swipe your tongue over your teeth to fight off a smile…but her gaze is warm. It makes you nervous in the weirdest way, and your lips stretch wide. Defeatedly, you nod, “If you say so.”

ೀ

The sun retired for the night and in an hour, you'd showered, dressed, met Kafka in the living room, caught up with a shot or two slipped in the mix, and dug into the XL pizza she ordered. It was your favorite toppings—you were shocked, to say the least, that she remembered.

“Enough about me,” She grabs hold of the conversation, placing her plate down on the coffee table—and you hide the cringing your face defaults to with a crooked smile and nod. “What about you? How was finishing high school? Starting university? Is Mom still…Mom?”

You awkwardly giggle, placing the plate in your lap. “The answer to the last question is yes. She's never changing, I fear.”

“But…I've been good, really. I keep saying it but it's true; grades are good, friends are good, and Mom is as good as she could get—” more laughter, “—but, yeah. I'm not traveling like you, Kafka. I barely leave my apartment unless it's to go to class. I'm stable, and I'm good. Nothing to tell.”

Kafka eyes you critically as if she's trying to read you. There's nothing to find because as you said, there's nothing to tell. You've always been the stickler goody-two-shoes type: abiding by rules and expectations and never deviating from your white-picket-lined path. It wasn't perfect, and never always good, but it was enough. Enough that you could say with your whole chest that you're okay with being boring…because, well—it’s all you've really known.

She walked into your life as your sister at eleven and walked right back out at fifteen. In four years, you'd been enlightened to a dark side of the world, but you were always too timid. Kafka was a playful cat, ready to paw at her sheepish little mouse until you played back.

Back then, you were too young, and under the palm of your mother to enter rebellion. Now, you're free…somewhat. Kafka was determined to help you spread your wings. She was going to plant the seed in your ear and let it sprout: “It’s your world,” She says. “isn't it about time you live? The way you want to? You're a big girl now — you deserve a story to tell.”

She can tell by the widening of your eyes that the conversation is bordering on too much. “Uhh, I don't know. I'm happy right now—”

“Happiness is temporary. Memories are forever.”

And while she makes a good point…what exactly would you do? How?

Her head tilts and her eyebrow lifts tentatively. She wants to ask how far are you willing to go, but the conversation is far too premature. “It all depends on you, little mouse,” is what she settles on instead. “I’ll be ready to lend a helping hand when you need me.”

The conversation takes a thoughtful pause. Your head seems to fill with thoughts and returning to her now chilled pizza, Kafka pats herself on the back. You're going to spread your wings and flourish, and she prides herself on giving you the route. It's only a matter of time, she thinks. A matter of time before the real fun emerges.

“Oh, by the way,” she interrupts the silence, “do you mind if I have a few friends over tomorrow? They wanna throw me a housewarming party.”

“Um, no, it's fine. My study group is coming over tomorrow after my classes so try maybe before? Or after that—we won't take long.” You miss the deviousness in her smirk.

With a final bite of her pizza, she nods. “Of course.”

ೀ

Jing Yuan is so charming.

He flashes you a Cheshire smile and you find yourself stumbling over your sentences. You palm your face, embarrassed, and let out a shy giggle. His deep chuckle follows and you almost don't want to look at him again.

Fu Xuan kisses her teeth and rolls her eyes. “Lay off the flirting, would you? Can't leave you two alone for a second...”

She joins the pair of you at the end of the courtyard, golden eyes narrowing. There's an awkwardness that creeps up, and you smile nervously while Jing Yuan scratches his neck. He displays a coy smirk that you avoid looking at — opting to rock on your heels and check in the distance for Yukong.

You and Jing Yuan are classmates; friends, even, if he were to agree with that sentiment. Though your crowds don't particularly mix, you find some comfort in one another. Albeit, most of your time is spent tutoring him. It's nice, nonetheless.

You're not opposed to liking him—in fact, you're smitten with him—but you doubt the feeling is mutual. He's Jing Yuan and you're…you.

His question reaches your ears, breaching your train of thought: “Is Yukong still joining us?”

The way he turns to you makes you shy, and you shrug in place of your words. “Umm, ‘dunno. She said so, but something must’ve come up.”

“Well, in any case, let’s just head to yours. She has the address.” Fu Xuan replies exasperatedly. Jing Yuan shrugs, “If that’s okay with you?”

You perk up at his kindness, and Fu Xuan groans, rolling her eyes. “Uh, yeah! Sure!” With your eyes glued to Jing Yuan’s pleased smile, you miss how Fu Xuan mocks you.

“Can we go now?!”

The three of you quickly commute back to your apartment. It's a nice fifteen-minute walk—even nicer when Jing Yuan let you talk his ear off the entire way. Fu Xuan was paces ahead of the two of you, grumbling under her breath about how she should've said no and cursing to Yukong for leaving her with you.

You've been studying together for a while, but you've never brought them over. Your sessions usually take place at the campus library or the local cafe, so to say you're a bit nervous is an understatement.

Not only have they never been over, but you have Kafka. She’s a wildcard and you can only pray that she's on her best behavior.

Your key spins in the hole and you push the door open. Over your shoulder, you mutter, “I think my…sister’s home so she might come and say hi.”

You hope that's the most that she’ll do.

Upon entry, there's a potent, herbal smell floating around the air. It's slightly smoky, and your throat tightens up. You turn around at your guests and cringe at their upturned noses and scrutinizing gazes. “Uhh…”

“Wait right here…um…” you murmur. You don't wait for their responses before speeding toward Kafka’s room.

The stench is stronger in the hallway and her music is even louder. The bass jumps through the floorboards and you doubt she’ll even hear your knocks — but you do it anyway. Knock knock knock.

No response.

You bounce on your heels nervously, peeking out and seeing Jing Yuan and Fu Xuan talking awkwardly by the door. Your nerves overcome you and you hurriedly knock again. “Kafka! I need to talk to you — Kafka!!”

You keep knocking on the door until the music stops and the door swings open. A cloud of smoke hits you immediately and you fall into a coughing fit, waving the smoke out of your face. “Good God…”

“Oh—my bad!” She laughs at you, turning over her shoulder to her friends and sharing the amusement. Her heavy-lidded eyes fall back onto you, and she leans on the door for support. “What do you need, little mouse?”

“Um…” you look over her shoulder and see her guests in her room. A silver-haired girl rests on her bed and types away on her phone, and a black-haired guy sits on the floor - his low eyes on you as he breathes out a cloud of smoke. You didn't know what to expect but you aren't surprised. You're more…uncomfortable. “Um, yeah — my study group is over and it smells like…yeah.”

Her eyes widen and she slaps a hand over her mouth. “That's right now?! Oh, I'm sorry—Silvie and Bladie came over early and I didn't know you’d be back so soon.”

Silvie and Bladie…interesting names.

You nod to her response. “…Yeah…I don't mind you…smoking or whatever but please open a window? It's very strong and it travels and I don't want the landlord to throw a fit.”

“Yeah, of course. Bladie!” She calls out over her shoulder. The guy—Bladie—doesn’t respond, but only perks up. “Crack open the window, yeah?”

And he just…complies. You're almost amazed at how he just listened and pushed the glass open, the cool evening breeze drafting into the bedroom instantly.

Kafka turns around as though it is normal. “There we go,” She giggles.

“Thanks.” You mutter, nodding your head. She winks at you as she shuts the door. You hear her shutting down a remark made by…Silvie and a barrage of laughter.

You make your way to the door where, thankfully, Jing Yuan and Fu Xuan still stand.

“Everything alright?” Jing Yuan asked. He immediately turns to face you, and suddenly your good mood sparks back up. You nod, “Mhm. She has a few friends over too but…I’m sure it won't be too bad.”

You welcome them in, all piling into your living room and crowding around the dining table.

Jing Yuan pulls his laptop out of his bag and sets it on the table. “I did awful on the last test…” he informs, presumably going back to the gradebook. “55%…”

Fu Xuan bursts into laughter. “No wonder you need both of us to help you study! Good lord!!”

You ignore her teasing and pull out your books. “What do you need help with?”

She's quick to cut him off, “Clearly everything if that grade is anything to go by…!”

“Xuan, stop!!”

Her laughter continues, and Jing Yuan waves her off. “The musings of a jealous nobody don't affect me,” and now it's your turn to laugh. “I'm here to get help so I don't mind going through everything. If you're okay with that, of course.”

“It’s fine, yeah—I’m fine with that! Um, let me just get my…” You trail off, sifting through your bundles of papers in your folders. You try to ignore the burn his gaze lays on your skin. He props his head on his fist as he leans on your table and God, does it make you feel special.

Fu Xuan bites back at his remark, “I'm not jealous and I'm definitely not a nobody! Watch your mouth, Jing Yuan!!”

And now it's your turn to internally curse Yukong.

“Here we go!” You pull out the review packets you made yourself — something you pride yourself on. You lay them on the table for him, eliciting a difference in reactions from your guests.

Fu Xuan sees the packets and rolls her eyes, “Only you would make your own review packets.”

And Jing Yuan instead muses at the sight, “No—it’s cool. Resourceful. I like that.”

And I like you, you want to say. You decide to keep that to yourself and only smile in response to play coy.

“This one is from the first couple of lessons, these two were for the quizzes, and the rest are for a few lessons in between.” You inform, pointing at each packet. “I also have some flashcards and some annotations; let me find them…”

“Look, all you need to do is read the textbooks. All the information is in there.” Fu Xuan argues, taking one of your packets for herself and flipping through it. “Do you read, Jing Yuan?”

“I read, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, so do I — but that doesn't help everyone, Xuan.” You snatch the packet out of her hand, laying it on the table. “But whatever. Do you think this will help you?”

Jing Yuan nods, gratefully. He takes a packet for himself, flipping through it. “You mind showing me how you use them?”

And with a flustered smile, you nod, immediately scooting closer to direct him.

You show Yuan your method: using his notebook to write down what he remembers, going back and adding things he didn't remember, and working out everything in between with what's in the packet. Your mother taught you the method during your eighth-grade year after your grades slipped and since then, you've sworn by it.

Fu Xuan uses this time to tease and ridicule him, occasionally aiding with her…aggressive technique whenever he stumbles over a particular concept.

You share some laughs and rambles along the way, and you’re given a side of Jing Yuan you never thought you’d get. He's surprisingly easy to talk to, and you don't know if he's actually that funny or if you're just that into him — but either way, you enjoy it. He makes your cheeks hot and your smile wider.

He’s always been your campus crush — but he’s everybody’s. You're not special but the way he's looking at you makes you feel as such. You hope that maybe he’ll ask you to tutor him again and maybe it’ll just be the two of you. Without Fu Xuan’s teasing and complaints.

After about an hour, he starts to get the hang of it. He’s focused and his attentiveness leaves you and Fu Xuan the time to talk.

You drown out her complaints about the sorority not allowing her in to focus on the presence of Kafka’s friend in your kitchen. She stands on her tippy-toes to rummage through your cabinets, groaning and slamming her palms on the countertop. “Uhh…do you need something?”

The girl turns around, “Food! Where the hell are all of your snacks?!”

“Um…” You don't get to respond. She stomps into your living room, shoving her hand into the bag of pretzels Fu Xuan brought. “Excuse me!!!”

She shoves the handful in her mouth, crunching obnoxiously. “Those are so fucking dry…” She complains, turning back into your kitchen and rummaging through your fridge.

Your last Kombucha is taken, popped open, and gulped down right before your eyes. You were going to drink that.

With an unabashed burp, the girl sets the bottle down and turns to you. “Hey, little mouse!”

“That's not my name—”

“Can you order some food, please? I feel like I'm being fucking punished.” And she continues to ramble, “Was I a bad girl? Do bad girls not get to eat?” And she falls into a fit of laughter.

You're uncomfortable. You know Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan must be too. This is just awkward, and embarrassing on your behalf.

“Can you get some pizza? Ooh, no, better yet, chili oil beef stew. Do they deliver that?” No. The answer is no. “Hold on, I’ll get the money.”

She scurries back into Kafka’s room with a heavy slam of the door. The three of you turn to each other, and you nervously laugh. How embarrassing.

“Is that your sister?” Jing Yuan asks. Oh God, he probably feels so uncomfortable.

“No! That's her friend…sorry about that.”

“She needs to pay me for a new bag of pretzels! I don't know where her hands have been and I'm definitely not eating that.” Fu Xuan huffs, crossing her arms and crumpling up the bag. You laugh at how she lightens the mood, but turn your gaze to Jing Yuan who's now focused back on his work. Great. You blew it.

Out comes Kafka’s friend, stomping toward you and shoving some bills into your chest. “Here you go! Keep the change,”

You don't want her change. But you don't protest — instead, you call up Delicacy Pavillion. “Hi, can I place an order?”

ೀ

The walk back to your apartment from Delicacy Pavillion feels like a walk of shame. You're even more ashamed because Jing Yuan decided to tag along and Fu Xuan decided to take her cue and leave. Now you're alone. With him. In the middle of the evening. Picking up delicious food for your ex-step-sister and her friends.

He offered to walk with you—“I don't mind. Besides, what kind of guy would I be if I let a pretty girl like you go out all by yourself?” You're not strong enough to deny his flattery, and so here you are.

Now that Xuan is gone, you don't know what to talk to him about. Or how to talk to him. You opt to keep your mum, humming a song you’d heard in passing lowly to yourself. Five minutes away and this day will finally be over.

“Are you and your sister close?” He breaks the silence.

You turn to him, “Ah, well — she’s not really my sister. Our parents were married for a while but they divorced now. A while ago, actually. We aren't close but…yeah.”

“Interesting…” He comments. “Yeah…”

“I don't mean interesting in a bad way—I’m interested…in you.”

Oh.

“You're interested…in me?” Your heart is practically jumping out of your chest. You can't hide the flattered smile that curls your lips.

He chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets and throwing his head back. “Ha, yeah. Of course — how couldn't I be? You're sweet, very smart…” He turns to look at you. Your eyes lock, “…very cute, too.”

It's like he wants you dead.

You immediately avert your gaze, nudging him in the side. “You're just messing with me.”

“If that's what you believe.” He shrugs, a playful grin resting on his face.

Now you don't know what to believe. But you're going to choose to believe that he means it.

“I'm interested in you too.” You sweetly proclaim, unable to wipe the big grin off of your face. His cheeks flush a pretty rose color, and his smile turns coy. The quiet you two fall into is much more comfortable and much lighter, and now you wish that your time with him won't end.

The pair of you make it to your apartment building, and when you stand in the elevator, you avoid his gaze. He watches you through the reflection of the elevator doors, and his smirk grows as he watches you try not to look at him.

He takes a step closer to you and when his hand swings your fingers brush and you almost drop the bag full of food. He knows how to make you flustered and how to make you smiley.

“Cute,” He mutters. He's not the only one who thinks that.

Jing Yuan does the gentlemanly thing and walks you to your door. As soon as you fish your keys out of your pocket, he pulls you into a hug. His arms are big and muscular and so warm — you immediately hug him back and wrap your arms around his waist.

“See you,” He says, rubbing the small of your back. You timidly respond, “See you.”

The smile on your face is prominent even as he walks away. Even as you walk into your apartment, coming face to face with a ruckus you never thought you’d have the displeasure of walking into.

Kafka and her guy friend are planted on the couch, the strong smoke smell clearly following them into the living room. And the girl…she lay on the floor still swiping away — but as soon as you closed the door behind you, she hopped up. “Yes—fucking finally!”

She bolts over to you and steals the bag out of your hand, “Thank fuck!! I'm so damn hungry!!!”

Kafka gets up, her guy friend immediately following. She smiles at you, coming to wrap you in a hug. “Ohhh, thank you, babe.” And she plants a firm kiss on your cheek. You feel the stain of her lipgloss on your skin, and cringe at it, only nodding and smiling as if to say “You're welcome.”

“I’m going to shower and go to bed…so uh, can you keep it down some?” You say, walking in the direction of the bathroom.

They barely hear you and focus on digging into their food. With a defeated sigh, you stalk away.

And with your back turned, the strict gaze on your disappearing frame is missed.

He’ll see you again, though.

ೀ

“I want you to formally meet my friends,” Not even a greeting as you entered the door. A hi, hello, or how was your day? would have been nice.

“Hello to you too, Kafka.” You quip, taking off your shoes and stretching your aching toes.

“Hi, little mouse,” she sarcastically chirps. She places her drink on the coffee table and you try to ignore the lack of a coaster - instead bracing yourself for the embrace she pulls you in. “Mm, you seem tense; your day went okay?”

You nod. Not quite, is the answer you hold on your tongue, swallowing it down and hiding a grimace beneath your smile.

Jing Yuan hadn't spoken to you all day. He didn't even look at you — his attention was focused on Tingyun. Pretty, brown-haired Tingyun with the charming smile and warmest aura…she’s now your competition, and from what you saw today, she’s leagues ahead of you. Hanging off of his arm like it's her lifeline and encapsulating his gaze in the palm of her hand. You almost stormed out of the lecture when her hands brushed his cheeks, her thumb swiping over his beauty mark.

He's just trying to make you jealous. That thought was supposed to comfort you but it made you even more upset. As soon as your professor shut his mouth you were out of there, leaving dust in your wake as you sped toward the library.

You needed to decompress and distract yourself. You were buried in a book when a touch you remembered too well landed on your shoulder. “I was looking for you.” He says.

Looking for me my ass, you think. But the sentiment warms you, nonetheless, and a smile pulls across your lips. “Here I am.”

“Here you are,” The tone of his voice makes you want to rip the hair off of your scalp. He's so sweetly condescending, so sultry and you can just get lost in his melody. He's like Kafka that way—wait. Nevermind…

“Can I take you out tomorrow night?” The suddenness of his question has you jostled, and the substance of the question has you flustered. Jing Yuan wants to take you out???

You're mad at him, though. He can just take Tingyun for all you ca—“Of course—er, I mean, sure. Why not?”

Fuck.

He chuckles at your stumbling, burying his hands in his pockets. His forearms scream at you as they clearly come into your line of sight — the image to be cherished and forever forefronted in your memory. Why is every part of him so attractive? “Great. I’ll text you later.”

And he squeezes your shoulder as he walks in the opposite direction. Fucking hell.

You're just pissed off. At yourself, at Tingyun, at Jing Yuan — you hate that he made you giddy and excited and you couldn't stop smiling to yourself even as you walked home alone.

He asked you, not Tingyun. Surely, if he wanted her, he’d be taking her out tomorrow, not you.

“So, tomorrow at…5? Is that cool?”

What? “Huh? Sorry,”

Kafka sighs, “I want you to meet my friends. It’ll be like…totally chill and just cool so don't freak out and think some type of formal meet-the-parents shit.”

“Is tomorrow at 5 good for you?” You’d be wrong if you said no. Kafka is trying. “Yeah, um, I guess,”

“Yay! This wasn't my idea, by the way — they want to meet you,” They do? “Really?”

She walks back over to the couch and plops down, downing a gulp of her pink Monster Energy. “Mhm. Silver wants to know how we could ever be sisters, and Bladie…” She takes a pause, having a short laugh to herself, “Let’s just say he’s taken a liking to you.”

You're confused by her statement but you don't press further. You're not sure you want to know.

“Um…I’m going out tomorrow, so,” “We won’t keep you long,” She shrugs.

Your subtly doesn’t work well—you mean to decline the offer. “Okay then,”

You begin to awkwardly walk to your bedroom, Kafka’s voice following you down the hall. “Hey, are you hungry?”

“I’m good.” You answer back. As good as you could be.

┄┄

With the nth layer of lip gloss slathered across your lips, you break into a smile at your reflection.

You’re pretty.

All dolled up: not a single fly-away or stray, cheek-housed eyelash, flawless base, and a perfectly ironed outfit describe your appearance. You spent the better half of your afternoon in the bathroom shaving, plucking, exfoliating, and giggling to yourself about your date with Jing Yuan.

You’ve never looked better. You don't think you’ve smiled this much in your life.

“You look so pretty, babe!” Yukong chimes. Her eyes gleam over the pixelated image on your phone. “So, what type of date is it? …It is a date, right?”

“Well, he didn't say it was a date—but he asked to take me out. What does that mean if not a date?” It's all semantics. Date schmate; at the end of the day it's you and him together. Alone. “He didn't…discuss the details. All I know is that he’s coming at 5:30 to get me.”

Interesting…

“It’s kinda…sexy. Like ooh, surprise me.” You add, giggling.

Right…

“If you say so…” Yukong sighs out. You laugh, missing the sarcasm thick in her tone.

“Well, anyway, I should get going.” You check the time: the digital numbers read 5:05. You're early, but, hey— better safe than sorry. “Call you later, love you!”

Yukong smiles and throws up a peace sign and ends the Facetime.

The hefty laughter from the other side of your door bulldozes through your silence, reminding you. Damn it.

Another small smile in the mirror and you get up from your vanity. You grab your clutch and walk out and into an atmosphere of laughter and…blueberries?

You wave the scent out of your face, and as if it were perfectly timed, the chatter died down and heads turned to you. Your hand fell to your side and you immediately made eye contact with her.

“Ohh, little mouse!!!” Kafka squeals, dragging out the nickname sing-songily. She skips to you, a hand nudging your shoulder. “Look at you!! Look at her guys!” She turns to her friends, grinning wide.

The pair raise their heads, faces morphing in opposite ways of one another in response. The silver-haired girl takes a brief puff from her seemingly blueberry-scented e-cigarette, “Woww, would you look at that?”

She turns to the guy beside her with an escaping smile, “You clean up nice, little mouse.” She compliments.

You cringe at the nickname leaving her lips, nodding. “Thanks…”

“What do you think, Bladie?” Kafka calls out, one arm pulling you close to her and the other swiping down in a showcasing movement. He perks up instantly and looks completely uncomfortable. He avoids looking into your eyes at all costs.

You feel bad. You tuck your clutch under your arm and raise your hands in defense, “No, no, it's okay. Kafka…you shouldn't…”

“Nope—it’s only right I tease you like this,” She rebuts. Her grin shortens to a smirk and her hand squeezes your arm, pulling you closer. “Mom’s not here; somebody’s gotta be the one to nag,”

It's a good thing your mother is not here. You moved out to get away from her. You only awkwardly laugh in response, shooting an awkwardly apologetic face toward Bladie.

“Uh…pretty,” He comments. “You look nice.”

It's only now that you realize you haven't heard his voice yet. And, woah. Wow.

“U-um, thank you. Ha…” You stumble out, growing flustered at your stuttering.

Kafka laughs, sending a look towards him that you miss. “Anyway,” she diverts, “these are my two companions: Silver and Blade.” She points at the pair respectively and they each emote.

“The two most important people in my life. After you, of course,” She informs, fingers nipping at the fat of your cheek teasingly. “What about Elio?”

She shrugs. “Oh, yeah. Him too,” and she and Silver burst into laughter.

Kafka introduces you to them after the laughter dies down, making sure to include “My little sister,”

“Ex-step-sister-now-roommate,” you correct. Silver chortles at your sass and Kafka sends you a narrowed stare. “You're right. My favorite ex-step-sister-now-roommate: my little mouse,”

“Wait, you mean to tell me you have other ex-step-sisters-now-roommates?” Silver jokes, laughing at her own joke. She slaps Blade on his arm to urge him to laugh along — to which he maintains his rigid posture and awkwardly avoids the scene.

Kafka walks the pair of you into the room, toward the couch opposite Silver and Blade. You sense an immediate switch; almost as if you’d changed realities. The air was suffocating in a way you couldn't understand. It was something deeper than awkwardness, something less juvenile than embarrassment. It was palpable: it hurt to swallow when you gulped nervously.

Silver blows another cloud of smoke toward your face, and when the fog dissipates you're met with the mischief on her face, “Sooo,” she drags, “what do you do for a living? This is a nice apartment you got,”

Small talk. You can do small talk. “Um, thanks! I mostly do tutoring and babysitting. But sometimes my mom helps out.”

Her face crinkles up in confusion. “Tutoring pays for all this???”

You laugh, “You’d be surprised at how much people are willing to pay for good grades. I mainly work with middle schoolers who aren't doing too well and their parents are so desperate. They’ll pay just about anything.” You slightly exaggerate the circumstances of your job. There's only one kid you tutor regularly and you've already begun discounting him because of his relation to Jing Yuan. It's a good thing Kafka moved in — the rent was beginning to look a bit dangerous.

“Ohh, interesting. What a hustler,” Silver jokes. Kafka laughs right alongside her, nudging your side with her elbow. “Fitting right in with us.”

The group bursts into a fit of laughter — even Blade spits out a few chuckles — and all you can do is awkwardly laugh along. You feel like a sore thumb: dolled up in your pretty blue outfit while your roommate and her friends are dressed in sweats and assortments of band tees. They laugh at a joke you don't quite understand and share glances that speak an entirely different language from you.

You want the time to speed up. You're waiting for Jing Yuan to save you from this awkward tension like the knight in shining armor he is and whisk you off to the date he planned.

Getting out of here would be so nice. You won't have to hear them poke and prod and tease and you wouldn't be scared to look left. Blade’s gaze is so intense. Goosebumps have risen on your skin from the sheer atmosphere it induces — is he doing this on purpose? He has to be. Kafka must have put him up to it.

It eases you to think that she’s just being herself: her playful, mischievous, dangerous self. In a week she’ll get bored, they’ll stop messing with you, and they’ll find something else to do. That's the way it's always been with Kafka and it helps you to relax.

But it's his stare. The way his eyes shyly rake you up and down again and again. He drinks in the sight of you and doesn't react — he’s committing you to memory and every time he takes a reprieve, his eyes thirst for more and wander right back to you. Kafka notices it. Silver notices it. You notice it. Everybody but Blade can see the way he looks at you: as though he could eat you whole.

He watches your face light up when your phone buzzes and you pull it out of your clutch. Thank the heavens; it’s Jing Yuan.

‘be there in 10. ;)’ He texts. ‘okayyyy <3 see you!’ You text back. Too flirty? Too excited? Oh, God. He hearts your message and your smile grows wider.

Blade wants to say how he wants to be the one to make you smile like that, but it's too early for that. He’ll opt for admiring you, instead, thinking to himself about how pretty you look grinning so wide and how pretty you probably look with his c—

Knock knock knock. That was fast.

You nearly jump off of the couch to answer the door, skirt flaring in the air as you skip to the door. Kafka watches with amusement thick on her face. You're so cute, a guy like Jing Yuan doesn't deserve you.

The door swings open and there he stands. His hair is pushed into a high ponytail and he’s clad in a simple outfit—but God, does he make it look good. “Hey there, pretty girl.”

His greeting awakens butterflies in your stomach. “Hi…” You reply shyly. He smiles at your nervousness and holds his hand out for you to grab, “You ready to go?” You nod almost immediately.

Before Kafka can open her mouth and trap the two of you there, you announce your departure and leave with a wave, slamming the door behind you. The group all share looks, and her smile can't help but get wider. “She’s so cute,”

“Wouldn't you agree, Blade?” Silver teases. Growing embarrassed, he lowers his head. “Oh my God!” She laughs, hitting the couch cushion. “You totally wanna fuck her!”

Blade doesn't respond. Silver turns to Kafka mouth wide, eyes blown, “He wants to fuck your sister, Kaf!” Don't we all?

Kafka sits in between her two friends, placing a warm hand on Blade’s shoulder. He immediately relaxes but keeps his gaze tied to the ground. “It’s okay, Bladie,”

“It happens to the best of us.”

┄┄

“I’m not going to lie,” Jing Yuan breaks the silence, “I didn't have a clue on what to plan. I just knew I wanted to see you again.”

His flattery is out of this world. He has you feeling so special, so wanted—you turn to look at him and just stare in disbelief. The Jing Yuan is driving you in his nice-ass BMW to a date that he asked you out on. Lucky girl syndrome is so real. “It’s okay, I’m not picky.”

“I like that.” He laughs out. “I like you.” His right hand abandons the steering wheel, traveling to your exposed thigh. His touch is light, tempting. He’s testing the waters, and only does he let his hand rest wholly on your thigh when your breath hitches but you don't stop him. He spares you a glance, a smirk drawn on his face when you briefly lock eyes.

“I think you said that before,” You lighten the mood. Your words sound breathless, clambering out of your throat nervously. “Oh, have I?” His hand creeps upward, now sheathing itself beneath your skirt. His fingers tap on your thighs — he’s teasing, waiting for a reaction.

You hum in response, now gluing your eyes to the dashboard because if you look down, you're going to explode.

“Guess I really have to let you know, then.”

“Guess so,” You respond. His hand only lies on your leg, not traveling any further. He pulls into the parking lot of the movie theater. Not your idea of the perfect first date, but maybe he has more planned.

You get out, immediately locking hands and walking side by side into the theater. He opens the door for you, leads you to the ticket stand, and the hold on your hand never falters. He uses it to pull you closer, letting his arm drape around your waist and his fingers tap along your skin. He’s setting you ablaze, burning you with every gesture he does.

You don't even care about the movie—Sky-Faring Commission 8, you think—you’re too focused on Jing Yuan. He drapes you in his jacket and wraps his arm around your shoulder when you get seated. He whispers a joke to you about the previews and laughs into your hair to not disturb others around you. And when the movie gets to a particularly boring part, he finds himself leaning on your shoulder.

His lips are featherlight as he ghosts over your skin. You act as though you don't feel it — gluing your eyes to the movie screen. You couldn't care less about the melodramatic climax on the screen. It didn't matter to you, it didn't register in your mind as important. He was so close, breathing in your sweet perfume and brushing his lips against your skin when he smiled. Oh God, you subconsciously lean towards him, letting out a sigh when puckered lips connect with your neck.

He places another kiss, and then another - readjusting his position to lead a trail upwards. The kisses grow larger distances as he eagerly travels to your lips. His hand reaches over and grabs the side of your face. You couldn't turn to look at him on your own: filled with too much anxiety and nerves to bear the connection.

Your eyes lock - a desire in his juxtaposing with the shyness in yours. He needed you, leaning in swiftly and collecting a kiss.

His tongue abrasively weaves its way into your mouth, sloppily licking around and tangling with yours. He was so powerful: overwhelming and all-consuming. You could only sit there weakly, trying your best to keep up with him.

Yuan is no dummy. He can tell you're not all into it. You sit rigidly and lack any eagerness to kiss him back.

“You nervous?” He whispers against your lips. His hand on your face slips down to your waist with a comforting squeeze in tow. You crack a smile nervously, “Never done this before. Well, like, in this way…”

He's quick to recover from the twinge of annoyance that surges within him. “‘Ts okay. I got you,”

He leans in, hand slipping to your thigh. It's almost cinematic — the movie flickers in deep reds and blacks as an action sequence plays and your silhouettes form on the wall behind you. He's so close, so tempting that you can't help but take in his words. “I’ll take care of you.” He says. And you fall for it.

And he kisses you even slower, more sultry. There's an enthusiastic flame in his kiss — he just wants you to give it up. Let him take you, let him have you. It's not like you don't want it.

As he kisses go deeper, hungrier with teeth sinking into your lip and lips sucking around your tongue, his hand slinks up your skirt. He plays with the band of your panties, feeling the soft material. His fingers roll and entangle in the fabric, feeling the slight jolt of your hips when his touch caresses your skin.

He shoves his tongue down your throat to keep you silent, pushing his hand further onward and cupping your cunt.

Your thighs immediately crush around his wrist. He’s trapped in your heat, feeling the throb of your clit against him. He bites your bottom lip with a smile as he presses his palm flat against you. The applied pressure to your clit has the bud stiffening.

God, you want him. You want him so bad.

You have to stop yourself from moaning and squirming. You’ll literally die if you get caught.

“I want you so bad, baby,” he whispers, pulling away. He kisses your jawline and rubs his hand against your pussy. The feeling is beyond mutual, you think. You can't do this, though. Not here.

You hum in response to him, fearing that any other response may be too loud. Feeling a premature knot gnarl in your stomach makes you panic and grab his arm. You can't cum yet—and definitely not here.

“Too much?” He laughs against your lips. He tries to sink his arm deeper between your thighs and your hips run away. “‘M sorry. How about we get outta here?

Locking eyes with him has you shyly saying yes. You don't have sex on the first date—Jing Yuan or not.

But your body seems to crave him. To want him and in this circumstance, you can be able to bend your rules. “Okay,”

You quickly exit the theater hand in hand with an unimportant amount of time left in the movie. There was a strange feeling swarming in your gut: akin to a thrill with a tickle of unsureness. You chalk it up to butterflies. It's just nervousness because the dream you've held onto ever since you first laid eyes on him is coming to fruition. You've always wanted Jing Yuan. You always wanted to be his.

He drives the car shortly to the parking lot of a shut-down arcade, parking his car and immediately clambering to the backseat with you. It was like he couldn't wait - like he was going to die without you. It's hot.

His hands immediately grab your hips and his lips overtake yours. He slowly lays you against the leather seats, wasting no time. He's making quick and agile movements: hands slipping under your shirt and cupping your breasts and lips wrapping around nips of skin.

You gasp, arching your back into him. “You're so sexy,” He moans, fondling you messily, needily.

“T-thank you…” You stutter out.

He kisses down to the neckline of your shirt, pushing the fabric up and going under to kiss around your chest. His lips replace his hands, the latter rehoming on your thighs and pushing your skirt up. His lips attach and suck around the top of your boob as his hands pry your legs apart, fingers dancing up toward your core.

You moan out softly. His tongue swipes across your flesh and his middle finger walks through your slit. “You’re so wet,” he comments, pressing your clit down with intense pressure.

A weak whimper dances from your lips and he laughs contently.

He continues to rub your clit while kissing your skin, turning your flames up so high that your body burns to the touch. A sticky sound resonates off of the interior of the car, sloshing grossly as your airy moans attempt to compete with it. Your pussy drips, your hole spasming as he teases you further and further.

You never thought you’d be in Jing Yuan’s backseat about to get finger fucked—and as much as you want to, you just - you can't.

His finger circles your entrance, ever so teasingly and you tense up. You pull away almost immediately, snapping your legs tightly shut and beginning to sit up. “Sorry, I’m sorry,”

Yuan takes a seat opposite from you, brushing his fallen hair out of his face with a huff. He gives you time to adjust your clothes, staring out of the front windshield. He looks…bummed, dissatisfied and you feel terrible. “Trust me, it's not a you thing. I just…I dunno. I'm not comfortable with what I don't know,”

“Nah, it's good. You're good.” He sends you a short smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

And you don't want to worry about it, but you can't not. There's an obvious tent in his pants and a frustration hidden beneath his appearance — you blue-balled him beyond measure and made it awkward. He’s probably never asking you out again.

In an attempt to ease the tension, you offer an alternative: “Wanna get something to eat? My treat.”

Taking a look at you breaks a smile on his face, and he nods. “Why not?”

┄┄

The date could have gone worse.

That's what you tell yourself as you ride the elevator up to your apartment, alone.

He had to go, he told you. “Text me before you go to bed, alright?” And that made you feel better, somewhat. He could have told you to delete his number and never go anywhere with him again, so you count this as a win.

You can't shake the tension, though. It's better than whatever the hell you, Kafka, and her friends had floating around, however, it's just as uncomfortable. The elephant in the room is humongous, but neither of you dare step on its toes. You don't blame him for feeling some type of way, but he shouldn't blame you either, right?

“Welcome back! How was your date?” Kafka questions as you walk in the door. Silver and Blade are still here, the latter on his phone and the former focusing on her strawberry crunch ice cream bar. You wave at Kafka, removing your shoes and remembering you still have Yuan’s jacket. You won't leave it out for it to get dirty with the Three Musketeers running around your apartment.

“It was good,” you reveal softly. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. I’m really tired so I’m just gonna go shower and go to bed.”

Kafka nods, waving you off, “Alright; good night, little mouse!”

You get into your bedroom and don't even think twice. Your clothes are stripped off and strewn across your floor but you make sure to place Yuan’s jacket on your vanity. Your hair goes up and your body wraps in your towel, a quick commute to the bathroom across the hall to wash today off of your body.

Warm water splashes over your skin, soapy clouds run down your body as you scrub. You still feel embarrassed — the scene of you quitting on Yuan replays every time you close your eyes. You're mad at yourself because you know you want him, you always have, and you fumbled your opportunity badly. It's embarrassing for you and him. You fear it's an event you can never forget.

Twenty minutes of pouring the stress and dirt and Jing Yuan down the drain and you're finally ready to sleep. Body clean, pajamas on, makeup off, and skin care on, you climb into bed and immediately grab your phone.

‘just heading to bed c:’ You text. You twiddle your thumbs for half a second before you start typing again: ‘i did enjoy our date today btw…hope u don’t get the wrong impression cause i’d love to go out w u again <3’

That’s good. He knows how you feel, you've said your peace and lifted the weight off of your chest. You turn your phone off and rollover. Off to dreamland you go—

Ding!

Your eyes shoot open. Ding! And now you're rolling back over, grabbing your phone, and squinting at the initial brightness.

‘don’t worry abt it haha’ He texts back. ‘it’s my fault, I should’ve asked’

Your fingers press and heart his message, quick to move to the keyboard and begin typing. But before you finish, another text from him rolls in: ‘i’m glad you enjoyed it. it’d be my honor to take you out again’

You silently cheer, kicking your feet under your duvet. ‘i’ll be holding u to that’

no need already planning our next one

whatre u thinking?

that takes the fun out of it if i tell you dw i won’t make you wait long

He's flirting. You're flirting. Even through text, he has you running in circles looking for a response. What do you say? What do you say?!!

good c; don't wanna wait to see u again

‘me neither’ He starts typing, then stops. Is it over already?

The typing bubble pops up again, and in seconds, his blue message fills your eyes: ‘u mind sending a pic?’

Suspicion doesn't address you—instead a feeling of confusion. Where is this conversation going…?

im in my pajamas lol so not sexy

doesn't have to be, you make something sexy plus the kind of pjs a girl wears tells you all abt her

does it?

mhm

Damn it. You crawl out of bed, turn your lamp on, and step in front of your full-length mirror. A loose-fitting shirt and small house shorts. Nothing extravagant or appealing — just extremely comfortable.

Five attempts at a flattering mirror selfie later, you finally land a picture that satisfies you enough. Immediately to Jing Yuan, it goes, paired with the message ‘what do mine say about me?’

You sit back on your bed, criss–cross applesauce as you wait for his response. Three minutes later he likes your message, ‘says you're cute’

that’s it?

He responds quickly. ‘not sure if you wanna take it there haha’

You're not sure either. ‘try me’

It takes him a minute to start typing again — presumably needing to take the time to make a conscious decision before he embarrasses himself…again.

‘Attachment: 1 Image’ You immediately click on the image, zooming in only to be met with his bulge. Black boxers stretched around a fat tent in his pants with his big hand resting on top of his lap.

His next message comes in seconds later, ‘says you drive me crazy and need me there to make you feel good’

And the next one…‘it's hard for me to control myself lol’

i just get so turned on by you

Oh. He's taking it there.

‘me too’ You have to send the text with your head facing the other direction, nearly jumping out of your skin with the confirmation swoosh sound.

‘i don't usually get that wet btw…’ You inform. It's a bit of a half-truth; you haven't slept with that many people to gauge how wet you can truly get but you're almost positive you've never soiled your panties like you have today.

He hearts your message and immediately starts typing.

oh rly? what abt now? still wet?’

If the way your thighs are pressing together is anything to go by, the answer is a very enthusiastic yes.

yeah want u so bad

You don't sext — you've never done it before and you are awful with your words. You're nervous despite the wave of boldness that's overcoming you. This is escalating fast, bordering territory you've never crossed.

You should've just gone to bed and texted him the following morning. You should have kept it innocent and not pushed him further. You've opened a can of worms and now it's time to reap the consequences. Fuck.

let me see

Double fuck. Maybe triple. Possibly quadruple.

How the hell are you supposed to show him???

You immediately hop up and move your mirror, repositioning it to stand parallel to your bed. Should you turn the light off? Maybe you should.

You jump onto the bed in the darkness, slithering off your shorts slowly, giving yourself time to stop and preserve your dignity. God, you can't believe you're doing this, you think, setting yourself in the most awkward position to show the wet spot painted on your fresh pink panties.

Flash on and legs in the air, the camera shutters three times. If you weren't embarrassed before, you definitely are now.

You send two of the three photos, tossing your phone into your pillows.

The ding is still audible, followed by two more that make your heart jump.

shit you're so hot baby Attachment: 1 Video

A shaky thumb presses play on the video, immediately adjusting the volume when wispy curses spill from the device. The video shows his unclothed abdomen and his hand in his boxers, rubbing his dick slowly.

You watch with peeled eyes how his stomach rises and falls, abs gnarling as he bucks into his own hand. Twelve-second video. It's a twelve-second video and it seemed to last for an hour.

He sends more texts:

wish it was you are you touching yourself?

No.

yeah doesn't feel as good as when u did it, tho

You ignore the way your cunt clenches around the air and your panties grow increasingly uncomfortable with the slick pooling and seeping.

pretend it is me Attachment: 1 Voice Message

Oh fuck. You lay down, bringing the phone to your ear and dancing your fingers across your stomach in hopes of soothing your nerves. This is a lot. This is probably worse than letting him feel you up and almost finger you in his car.

“‘M gonna help you feel good, okay?” He starts the voice message. You nod as if he can see you, and close your eyes to take in the full experience.

“Start rubbing your clit—go slowly, tight circles, okay,” he pauses, presumably to let you complete the action. The quiet is filled with an airy gasp from you, sensitivity extremely prevalent between your legs. You part your folds and hear how sticky it is, and it's even worse when you let your finger slip in between your labia and press your clit. You moan so loudly you have to bite your lip.

With your thighs instinctively closing on your wrist you roll to your side, burying your face in the pillow as you start to do as he says: slow, tight circles around your sensitive bud. You can hear him spit—presumably in his hand—and faint slick sounds in the background. He starts speaking, overpowering the background noise, “Feels good, huh?”

“Keep doing that, okay? Keep going until you're about to cum—” He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath, “—fuuuck, baby. I want to fuck you so bad; bet you sound so pretty when you moan…”

He just turns you on more, leaving you to whimper and further push your face into your pillow, attempting to quiet yourself.

It's been a while since you've had any sexual time — oftentimes too tired or uninterested in tending to your needs even though your body screams at you for a release. You're overly sensitive, clit throbbing angrily and hole spasming thirstily. You need to feel good, to reach nirvana — you needed to let Yuan fuck you and satiate the thirst.

He sounds so good talking to you, moaning for you, working you up to your climax, “Put a finger in, baby. I wanna hear you, too,”

You're just horny at this point. You almost waste no time in recording a voice memo, pushing your middle finger into your cunt with a breathy whine, “Oh, God,”

You start at a slow rhythm, really edging yourself. You huff and whine and whimper all into the speaker, letting him hear every voice crack and deep breath. It feels so good, but it's not enough.

“I wanna be filled,” you manage to say. “‘S not enough…need you, Yuanie.”

Send.

You stop your ministrations as you wait for him to respond, letting yourself come down from the impending climax.

Ding!

fuck

Is all he sends, and then your phone starts ringing. Your reflection in the FaceTime camera has you adjusting your position and putting the phone in a flattering angle, answering the phone with knitted eyebrows and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. What a performer you are.

When the call connects you're met with his dick. His hand traverses the length eagerly, an angry tip leaking milky white down the shaft and glistening as he jerks himself off. You see him behind his big cock: hair disheveled and face red.

“Let me see your pussy,” his voice is gritty, deeper than usual. His tone is almost demanding—you clearly don't have the luxury of being shy at the moment.

You lower the camera slowly, pushing your panties to the side and letting the radiance of your phone screen show the glistening mess to him. “Oh fuck,” he comments, throwing his head back.

“So pretty, so perfect. I bet you're tight as fuck,” You decide to show him: slipping your index finger in first with a sweet moan, then following up with your middle finger after a few pumps.

You're definitely fuller, but it's not enough.

Your cunt squeezes around your fingers tightly, spilling out a waterfall of arousal. Your ministrations are easy with how wet you are: fingers slipping in and out with little to no resistance, just narrowly missing your sweet spot.

It gets harder to hold back your moans—sounds now coming out as broken cries as you bite intensely on your lip. “I wanna cum,” you sniffle.

“Yeah? Cum for me—show me how that pussy creams,” So obscene but so, so incredibly hot.

Your hips buck into your hands and your hold on your phone gets weak. You have to change position: set the device up between your pillows, and put yourself on display

Normally, you would never do something this risky. Maybe it's because of Jing Yuan—or a different potential point of interest just mere feet down the hall—but you feel inclined to jump out of your shell now.

So many years in Kafka’s shadow and even more in your mother's palm. You're grown up now, independent and you want to be taken seriously. It's the least you deserve and the most you want. He's going to take you seriously; he's going to see how badly you want him and the lengths you’ll go to to show up for him.

You've made a big leap in your behavior and you're prepared to deal with the consequences. No more little mouse, you're not a baby anymore.

It's time to take the world in your palm and bask in the mature gleam. You let the spotlight burn your skin as you work yourself to an orgasm, moaning so carelessly you're probably the center of conversation among Kafka and her friends. And you’d be right; partially, anyway.

Kafka having dozed off with Silver ages ago left Blade up alone, amusing himself with an average social media feed and remnants of a joint. He tried to ignore your soft moans coming from down the hall, but hey, he has keen ears.

He knows it's probably that douchebag you went out with making you sound like that and he can't even get mad about it. He's almost thankful — it's not every day you get to hear the melodies of an angel.

Neediness and curiosity reach all-time highs and urge him to do something he's 100 percent going to regret.

Blade takes light-footed steps toward your bedroom, the moans, and whimpers of you getting louder as he approaches the source. You sound so pretty; he can only imagine the way your face is knitted up and how wet you must be.

He hates himself for doing this, but he eavesdrops: letting an ear rest on the wood of your bedroom door and taking in the sounds you spew out.

He wishes he was on the other side of this door making you sound like that. He'd probably make you wake the entire apartment building up—

“I’m about to cum—! Ngh, oh my—” A sharp whine cuts you off. He wonders: do you squirt? Can you? Can he make you? There's no way possible that dickhead can do it.

“Me too—oh, shit, baby.” Comes out muffled to Blade, and his eyes roll immediately. Cornball shit, he thinks.

He hadn't pictured you as the phone-sex kind of girl, but with the way that jackass is egging you on, it's no wonder. You're so much better than this, than that guy and all he wants to do is let you know that. Blade is probably no better, but he can try. He can change for you and do right by you—in every aspect.

Your whimpers grow pitchier and you're puffing out deep breaths. You sound…overstimulated. He can imagine your toes curling and thighs trembling as you fuck yourself, squeezing your eyes shut with swollen lips. Your pussy is probably leaking a river, covering your ass, and staining your (probably) dainty white sheets. What he would give to make you feel good, let alone look at you.

“Yuan—!! I'mcummingImcummingImcumming!!!” You squeal, muffling yourself with a hard slap over your mouth.

Blade doesn't even realize he's begun to palm his cock and roll his hips into his hand. “Oh…” he quietly moans, letting his head fall onto your door.

Shit. He has to leave now, hearing you yelp at the sound and shuffle around. No use trying to hide, so he makes an escape: walking fast out of the front door without a second thought. Great—now he has to drive home with a rock-hard dick.

And you gather yourself. Hanging up the phone with Jing Yuan and walking to your door awkwardly due to the mess between your legs.

Cleaning yourself up in the bathroom and avoiding your reflection in the mirror, you think back to that sound. It was a knock, right?

Kafka and Silver lay on opposite ends of the same couch, curled under your throw blanket which is much too small for them. Blade is nowhere to be found…huh. Weird.

“Hey, Kaf,” you shake your roommate awake over the back of the couch. She moans and rolls over, slowly peeling her sleepy eyes open, “hmm?”

“Were you at my door just now?” The red-head shakes her head no, pulling the blanket over her shoulders and away from Silver.

If it wasn't her…“Where’s Bladie?” She questions, noticing his absence.

You shrug. “He probably left earlier.”

Even half-asleep, Kafka has double the brain you do. You can't see what's right in front of you.

She smiles, shuffling again and closing her eyes. “Alright, then. Good night.”

“Night,”

ೀ

With a week left until spring break, you cherish the time you've spent this last month or so living.

It feels like the first time, in all of your nineteen years of living, that you are living. Your smiles are brighter, your days are happier, and you're living every second to its fullest extent in absolute bliss.

Almost every week you're on a date with Jing Yuan. He's practically your boyfriend, but there's no official label so you keep that thought process to yourself.

Lowkey dates with him that slightly escalate have become your norm. You're still holding off on full-blown sex, and you wish you weren't. It causes some tension every time you restrict him from fucking you - but he tells you he's waiting, he's more than happy to wait. That's more than most men are willing to do and you're happy that you're fortunate to have landed yourself someone like you. Spending the tail end of your dates getting your neck marked up and fingered while you jerk him off is as much scandal as you can handle. Nerves are what's stopping you from going all the way. Definitely not Kafka’s hot friend who you can't stop thinking about.

There's synergy in your apartment now. You're not walking into a room with a tight chest and bated breath, just waiting to see what's waiting for you anymore. It's normal now—all of it. From Silver ransacking your kitchen to an obnoxiously loud-smelling blunt, you're used to it. It's not nearly as bad as you feared when Kafka initially moved in.

You sit in the dining hall with Fu Xuan, listening to her angry rambling about her statistics class. She never backs down, always eager to let a piece of her mind fly whether you like it or not.

“Stupidest fucking class ever. And, like, I shouldn't even be in there in the first place because I am wayyy too smart—”

“Hey guys,” thank God. Yukong shows up and sits next to Xuan, saving you from a monologue about how smart and wonderful she is. You love her, but man does she know how to talk.

“Nice of you to join us,” Xuan says snappily. Yukong pays her attitude no mind, sipping her coffee and turning to you with a knowing look.

She shifts the conversation, “Anyway…I came to let you guys know that there's going to be a party on Friday at the sorority. Tingyun said it’s to celebrate the beginning of spring break.”

You can't even remember the last time you went to a party. The smile growing on your face is too strong to fight. “What time?”

“Umm…I’ll have to check. Probably late though, so…”

This can be your first outing with Jing Yuan. Just the two of you with all eyes on you. Right before spring break as well…it could be your first time together—the thoughts alone make your head spin and a flurry of images swarm.

“Hm. Well, I won't be there.” Xuan states, crossing her arms and looking off elsewhere.

Amused, Yukong questions her why. “‘Cause. I'm gonna be busy with burning this stupid campus down!”

┄┄

hii <3 didn’t see u today so i hope ur feeling alright! also did u hear about the party this friday? r u thinking about going? miss u

You send your trilogy of texts to Jing Yuan, drowning out the conversation Kafka and Silver are having in your living room. “Can you back me up here?!”

Silver looks at you for backup, to which you're dumbfounded. What were they talking about again? “Sorry, what were you saying?” You ask, setting down your phone.

“Ugh!” The gamer groans, falling back onto the couch. “Please tell your sister that a Nintendo DS and a Nintendo Switch are not the same thing!”

“They do the same thing, though!” Kafka defends. “Barely! Kaf, I’m on that thing like, twenty-four-seven and you mean to tell me you think I’m playing Cooking Mama?”

“I don't know what you play. You never let anyone try and join you.”

“Because you all suck! Every single last one of you is dead weight and it makes me look bad.” Kafka scoffs, turning around and looking at you with an exasperated look. You lock eyes and share a similar smile — as much as you claim you and Kafka are total opposites, you get each other in ways not understood.

She turns back around and shuts Silver’s yapping down and at the same time, Blade emerges from the hallway. He looks good. Really good.

His long, dark hair is disheveled and tossed into a low bun, making you gain a newfound appreciation for man buns. His black “wife-beater” tank snugs onto his frame tightly—every ridge and curve of his solid abdomen pressing through the fabric and leaving little to the imagination. Staple gray sweats make you immediately avert your gaze, awkwardly making eye contact with you.

He caught you staring, and you caught him.

As if it were divine intervention, your phone buzzed on the counter behind you and you went straight for it, hiding the flustered look on your face behind your phone. You don't do a good job, though. Kafka notices.

hey baby accidentally slept in this morning but I’m alright heard abt the party but idk if I’m gonna go. not rly feeling it

A frown stretches across your lips as you disappointedly text back.

ohh okay feel better <3

Read.

It's fine—you're fine! You’ll just go with your friends and have a great time and you can see him after break.

You want that to be comforting but your gut tastes the bitter truth. It's not time to have that conversation with yourself so you table it, leaving your phone on the table and joining Blade on the second couch. Kafka and Silver monopolized the other one and you had to fight the urge to wiggle your way between them.

“So, what are we watching?” You make conversation, hiding the shake in your voice by focusing on the TV. Some random show plays, something so stupid you’d never waste your time on this.

“Dunno. Blade picked it.” Silver shrugs, slamming buttons on her Switch.

He turns to you. “Uh, it's the adaptation of the book ‘Verdict’. About Imbibitor Lunae.” He informs shyly. His voice is so gritty and deep—every time you hear it you swear you feel the depth reverberating in your bones.

Blade makes you so nervous. With his intense stare and even more intense aura, he's overwhelming and nerve-wracking. While you've grown to be comfortable with Silver and Kafka, Blade is the only one you walk on eggshells around.

And he feels the same way. He wants to breach the wall and get to know you. He wants to sit on this couch with you with his arms wrapped around your frame and you in his lap and relax. He's so tense around you, so stiff out of pure fear that if he makes the wrong move or says the wrong thing, he’ll scare you off. Blade likes you. And when it comes to girls like you and guys like him, it doesn't take much for things to go wrong.

You like that he reads though. “Ooh, interesting. I’ve never read that book,”

“It's pretty old and short. Most people of our generation haven't heard of it, I bet.”

“Yeah, 'cause you act fifty years old!” Silver sneers, earning a slap on the leg from Kafka. He pays her no mind, instead watching how you laugh at her teasing.

Your eyes get so bright when you smile: full of joy, full of light. It's so cute.

“What episode is this?” You ask him. Clearing his throat, he checks with the remote, “Episode four.”

“Mind catching me up?” Are you doing this on purpose? You’ve got to know what you're doing to him.

Heat drives up his neck and he has to create distance, sitting all the way back on the couch and replying to you with a nod.

You gulp, watching the way his legs naturally spread and how his arms flex. Insanely attractive, almost criminally so.

“So, it’s basically about that guy,” he points at the screen, a graceful-looking man with horns displayed, “called the Sinner—”

“That guy’s a sinner? He looks like an angel,” You comment. You take another look at the screen and Blade fights a smile.

If only you knew.

He continues to break down the lore of Verdict to you, going very in-depth and getting seemingly passionate as he goes on. Kafka scrolls on her phone and takes it in with pride—Blade should thank her. Never in all of her years of friendship with him does she think she's ever heard him talk this much, let alone to someone he’s interested in. It's pure proof of what you do: the best sides of people come out because of you.

You listen to him intently, chiming in with reactions and questions every now and then and completely abandoning the show you're supposed to be learning about. You just like to hear him talk. His rough voice softens up as he continues explaining the story to you and in turn, your body language softens. You can relax and lie on the couch, keeping your eyes on his face as you lean your head down on your wrists.

Details you hadn't noticed before on his face stand out to you — like how clear and supple his milky skin is and how his chapped lips are tinted ever-so-slightly red. You notice how his thick eyebrows wiggle and knit together when he’s thinking, and his awkward, canine-heavy smile when you make a comment. Blade is dorky and surprisingly, a history enthusiast.

He goes from detailing the fabled betrayal of Imbibitor Lunae to the Ambrosial Arbor to everything before, after, and during. From the unusual silence exuding from Kafka and Silver, he realizes just how much he's been talking. Even you have started to drift off, your eyes are heavy as you listen to old Xianzhou tales.

Upon realizing that he’s effectively talked everybody to sleep, he takes the blanket draped on the armchair and covers you, making sure to be as cautious as possible. He doesn't know what he’d do if you woke up and caught him.

As weird as it sounds, he likes seeing you sleep. You look so peaceful like your dreams are full of cotton candy and rainbows. Knowing you, they probably are.

“You’re staring, Bladie.” He turns around to see Kafka, her smirk overtaking her groggy expression. He doesn't even try to refute the claim or defend himself. If there's anyone other than himself that knows him well, it's Kafka. She probably knows him more than he does himself at this point.

“You’re cute, making moves on her and stuff,” He naturally follows her as she makes her way to the kitchen. The blush on his cheeks dusts lightly, and his eyes find comfort in staring at the floor. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” She reaches into the fridge, pulling out the last can of Mung Bean Soda.

She pops the can open and takes a short swig, “so what's your plan?”

Blade shrugs. Kafka sighs, placing the can on the counter. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”

ೀ

If Jing Yuan wasn’t going to come to the party tonight, you were going to make him regret it.

You dressed in the shortest, tightest dress you owned: an off-the-shoulder white mini-dress with the prettiest shine to it. You bought it impulsively after your mid-term breakdown freshman year, thinking retail therapy would make you feel better. (It didn't–another breakdown ensued when you realized you just wasted money on shit you didn't need.)

You did your makeup the best you ever have. Perfect highlight, sharp and even eyeliner wings, balanced lip combo—cosmetology school should have been your first choice with this type of beat.

Yukong told you to come at 9; the time on your phone reads 8:58. A little late, but fashionably so.

The jacket Yuan had given you still resides in your room due to your forgetfulness. If you're going to this party, why not make a statement?

You slip on the bomber jacket, the bulkiness of the fit aiding the aesthetics of your outfit. It gave off comfy but cute—“in my boyfriend’s closet” vibes. Surely, Tingyun or whoever the hell else competing with you will take the hint with this. Nobody will have to guess whose jacket it is when there's a white lion embroidered on the right arm. If this isn't a soft launch, you don't know what is.

Grabbing your essentials you walk out to the usual scene in your living room: Kafka, Blade, and Silver seated on different couches engaged in a conversation. Their heads turn to you, and you immediately let your gaze fall to Blade. He almost looks away instantly — too much. You're too much and he knows that it's for that guy. The one who doesn't deserve you but gets to see you cum and receive your attention…unfair.

“Wowww look at you! Little mouse is stealing someone’s man tonight!” Silver whoops, snapping her fingers. You roll your eyes at her, brushing stray strands of hair back.

You walk to the door, “Don’t wait up!!!”

Oh, but they will. Some more than others.

┄┄

Yukong’s sorority house is huge but it feels so small with this many people present. The invitation was extended to the entire campus, presumably, and sure enough, they showed up and showed out.

Pulling up was a nightmare — cars and people backed up for what seemed like miles. Your Uber driver huffed and puffed the entire time trying to find somewhere to let you out, and you could only extend apologetic woes and smiles. Walking up to the house was better, but you suddenly woke up from your dream world and realized that people could see you. They could perceive you and form preconceived notions about you just from how you carried yourself. You became conscious of what the hell you had on—immediately regretting the short dress when you had to squeeze between some randoms smoking on the stairs, your bare thighs rubbing against their bodies. Ugh.

The music was loud, seemingly traveling through the floorboards and it felt incredibly unstable to walk in your heels. You searched for Yukong, spotting your best friend off to the side with Hanya.

“Woaahh, look at you!” She exclaims. You give her a spin and laugh. Through your joy, you miss the way her face crinkles up when she eyes the jacket you sport. “Do you want a drink?”

You nod, “Only like, one or two. I'm trying to stay sober; I want to remember tonight.” You send her a look that means only one thing: you have something planned for tonight. What that thing is…well, Yukong isn't sure she wants to know.

She asks Hanya to fetch you a drink, taking up a conversation with you in her place. “How’s the sister situation?”

You hadn't updated Yukong on the status of things in a while. Should you tell her about Blade?

Wait. Tell her what?

As if there's anything to tell…

“It’s actually good. Surprisingly. I thought I’d be begging my mom to take her by now,” you joke. Hanya returns with a red solo cup, handing it to you. “It’s something tame.”

You're not a fan of the taste of alcohol. You can't understand how people willingly get shitfaced—this shit is nasty. You cringe and shudder at the taste. Whatever juice base is added does not aid the taste one bit.

“Her friends are around often. Like…every day. I wonder if they have jobs but I haven't asked,” Yukong takes a sip of her drink as well.

“Did they help this transformation occur?”

And suddenly, the reality of how you look hits you again. “Ha ha, very funny. I wanted to try something new, something sexy.”

“It worked!!” A random girl replies as she and her friends walk toward the kitchen. The face you give Yukong says I told you so, and she rolls her eyes.

“Let’s dance!” You exclaim, grabbing onto your friend with the sudden shift in the music.

Reluctantly, she follows you to the sea of gyrating bodies. Everybody dancing and talking forms a cocoon of heat—you’re encapsulated the moment you breach the area.

Sip, dance, laugh. Sip, dance, laugh. Sip, dance, laugh. You keep this up for a good twenty minutes, breaking on the couch every now and then. It may be only you and Yukong — and the occasional appearance of Hanya — but you're having fun. Fun like you said you would with or without Yuan—

He’s here???

You spot Jing Yuan out of the corner of your eye. He daps partygoers up at the door, making his way through the jumbles of people clearly in search. Of you?

You almost call his name and wave but he walks straight toward Tingyun. His hands slide around her waist instinctively and her arms wrap around his neck tightly. She giggles as he lifts her up, and she gives him her cup when she's put back down. They don't break eye contact the entire time he downs the remainder of her cup, and as soon as he's finished, the cup is replaced with her hand and she's guiding him up the stairs.

Did he think you wouldn't be here? Or did he not give enough of a fuck regardless?

Whatever the case—it hurts. You take the jacket off and toss it to the ground, not realizing the stray tear that streaks down your face.

Tingyun is going to give him something that you couldn't. He’s going to give her something you can't have. You feel slighted like the rug has been torn from beneath your feet and you’re doomed to a fate forever on your ass. You look stupid. So so so stupid, but you have enough dignity to wait until you leave to bawl your eyes out.

Ignoring Yukong calling your name, you walk outside and begin calling yourself an Uber. The early spring chills make you even madder. Fuck this stupid dress, this stupid party, that stupid Jing Yuan—“Hey!!! You didn't hear me calling you?”

Yukong comes following after you, her face concerned as she comes into view. Seeing your tears, her eyebrows furrow, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

A sad laugh escapes your throat and you look up at the sky, attempting to hold back the sudden rush of tears. “Yuan is sleeping with Tingyun,”

Her face is full of indescribable expressions. She has many things she wants to say, but she chooses the safe option. “Huh?! How do you know?”

“His lying ass just showed up and threw himself all over her. Then they went upstairs and you and I both know they aren't up there talking.”

You poor, poor girl. “I shouldn't be sad…what was I thinking? I should've known that he was an asshole.” You should have, but Yukong won't blame you.

The last romantic attention you had was from Dan Heng: your kinda-sorta-ex-boyfriend who took your virginity senior year and broke up with you a month later because you were going to different schools. You crave a change in the way people perceive you. Jing Yuan was the closest thing to a fever dream you had in university, and he turned it into a nightmare. What was supposed to be your rebranding - an age of confidence and maturity was overtaken by his pushiness and exclusivity.

“It doesn't matter, I don't care. I just wanna go home,” You hope Kafka and her friends are on their best behavior tonight. You're not in the mood for any shit.

“Are you sure?” Yukong doesn't know how to comfort you. Anything she has to say will make it worse, she's sure of it.

You nod, wiping the string of tears off of your cheeks. The buzzing of your phone lets you know that your Uber is approaching shortly, so you give Yukong a smile that’s meant to comfort her - but it only worries her. She won't push you because the only way this’ll end is messy if so.

She offers you a comforting smile of her own, pulling you into a soft hug. “Call me later, okay?”

She reluctantly pulls away and heads back into the party, head swiveling over her shoulder to make sure you don't jump in front of a car. You're not going to — if anyone needs to, it's that asshole, Jing Yuan.

Your Uber pulls up and saves the day, the warmth in the car settling goosebumps on your skin from the juxtaposition. “Long night?” The driver asks, peering at you through the mirror.

Is it that obvious?

With a sad smile, you nod, “It's only gonna get longer.” You laugh. Imagining the annoying amount of questions and pep talks Kafka is going to give you when you step through the door irritates you. You lay your head against your seat, and then your phone buzzes.

Flipping the device over, you see three notifications from ‘Yuan <3’. Ugh.

Looking at it is going to make you do or say something you’ll completely regret. You regain composure through a deep breath; placing your phone face down on your lap and watching the world blur through the window.

You're trying not to feel humiliated. There's a burn in your chest because every time you close your eyes, there's a scene of you and him together. You're stupid to think he actually liked you. His longing gazes and lingering touches and sweet words were tactics to get into your pants — and it almost worked. There's a reason your mother treats you like a baby: you are one and can't handle the real world. You hate that you had to come to this conclusion like this, but you're not ready.

Thanking the driver, you pull yourself out of the car, trudging begrudgingly into the building and in the elevator. And you can't stop fucking crying.

Stray tears keep escaping and no matter how many times you wipe them away or vigorously blink, it doesn't stop the flow. Why are your feelings hurt this badly? Why did you like him so much?

These same questions cycle as you open your front door, being hit with the same atmosphere you just escaped.

You’ve got to be kidding me, you think. Of all nights, tonight Kafka decides to throw a damn party???

Not wanting to spend another second in this atmosphere, you weave your way through the partygoers — an exceptional amount of people, given the space of your apartment, if you may add.

Trying to escape to your room gets you caught by your roommate, and your name gets called across the party as a result. She maneuvers her way to you, “What’re you doing back here so early, little mouse? I thought we shouldn't wait up?”

The sadness you wear is so prominent. Your face is dropped and your lips quiver when she asks her questions. You stare at the floor to not let the tears fall. “Hey…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I'm just gonna go to sleep, so can you keep the noise down?” You try to brush her off. Kafka doesn't let you slip away, grabbing your arm and keeping you in place.

The rim of her cup nudges at your chin in place of her hand, forcing you to look up at her. A black headband pushes her plum-colored locks out of her face, straight strands flowing down her back. When she tilts her head pitifully at you, her hair swings to the side, falling over her shoulder and at this moment she looks so approachable. “What’s wrong?” She poses the question again, her tone softer than before.

You almost break down in front of her and she immediately extends her arm around your shoulders, pulling the side of you into her chest. She hands you her cup and you immediately down the liquid with no second thought. Her hand rubs your arm comfortingly and she guides you toward the kitchen, “C’mon, let's talk in here.”

The kitchen is surprisingly unoccupied save for a few hungry stragglers, leaving the two of you to sit on the stools. She refreshes your cup, getting a new one of her own and finishing off another bottle of tequila.

Kafka can tell by looking at you that this upset is caused by heartbreak. No words have to be spoken for her to understand, and now it's her job to take care of you. The way you deserve.

“What’d he do?”

The look on her face is all-knowing. You can't help but break a small smile at her intuitiveness. “I’m sure you can imagine…”

Of course she can. It was clear as day that he wanted only one thing. Everybody but you could see that a mile away.

“How’d you find out?”

“The asshole definitely wasn't trying to hide it.” You state, taking a big sip of your drink and cringing at the bitterness. Yuck. “He told me he wasn't going to come to the party, but I'm there, dancing, and here he comes. With a big wide-ass smile he walks straight to Tingyun and they waste no time in going upstairs.”

You don't normally swear, but you're so irritated that the words just soar from your lips. It’s almost amusing to watch your angry rambling. “Not even accounting for the fact that I was there and somebody could have told me. It was right in my face—right there and it was like I was invisible!!!”

Her eyes travel up and down your body. You're definitely not invisible. Jing Yuan just doesn't know what to do with you.

“He didn't deserve you; I hope you know that.” She comments, sipping her drink slowly. You finish off yours with bigger gulps, immediately hopping off of the stool and searching for a new bottle. Pouring another full cup, you nod, “I do now.”

“And then—he had the audacity to text me!” You sit down, taking off your heels. You're ready to get comfortable and let everything rip. Kafka’s eyes widen, “Oh, really?”

You hum to confirm, picking up your phone and checking the notifications. A few texts from Yukong and Xuan join his messages, but those don't matter. You hand the phone to Kafka, “I didn't even read them. I should block him, right?”

hey baby, i’m at the party wya

just talked to Yukong…can we talk? I wanna explain don’t be like this. at least let me explain?

Double yuck. You absolutely should block him…after this, though.

“He wants to explain himself to you. Classic,” She sneers. You laugh through your sipping, sitting the cup down. “He must take me for an idiot.”

There's a short silence that breaks with you changing the subject. “What’s the occasion?” You question.

She shrugs, placing her cup down. “Just felt like partying.”

Kafka tells a bit of a half-truth. While she did feel like having fun — her idea extends beyond getting sloppy drunk and into territory thus far unexplored. There's one objective she has tonight and it can't be completed unless her two moving pieces are pliable and cooperative. In terms of a checklist, she's halfway there.

Low-lidded eyes narrow at you, as if to tell you her intent wordlessly. You don't pick up what she's putting down, instead feeling heavily nervous under her gaze. “Anyway. Why don't we…”

She trails off, her finger tapping her chin exaggeratedly. “Wanna dance?”

You suck in a breath, holding up your hands. “I think I'm gonna call it a night, actually. It’s kind of late and all that crying made my head hurt…” You laugh. That’s partly true—you just want to escape whatever trap she’s set, if you're being honest. And frankly, after tonight, you have slight trauma from dancing.

“It’ll make you feel better.” She sings, wiggling a finger at you. “Come on; just one dance!”

Your face crinkles. You're not convinced. “Silver’s on the aux, we can ask her to play whatever you want.” She tries to bribe. “No sad-girl depressed shit, though.”

She keeps asking, offering deals and propositions that sound all the more appetizing as she continues. After a series of unabashed begging, you finally agree. “One song,” you sternly declare, hopping off the stool and grabbing ahold of your cup.

Her hands are in the air defensively, a cheshire smile stretching across her lips. “You lead the way,”

You've never partied with Kafka before. Your time spent as step-sisters consisted of you mostly lurking and watching, earning your nickname ‘little mouse’ because you were quiet, swift, and moved at night. You saw her sneak people into the house while your parents slept, throw parties while they were out, smoke in your backyard, and do other wild activities — but she never let you join. Your age was your main roadblock, being deemed too young and too cute to join her and her friends. Dancing with her now, smelling the strong mix of scents in the air and the bass of the music jumping in your bones, you understand why now.

Maybe it's the alcohol or the fact that your heart is broken, but the atmosphere is heavy. There's a lingering feeling that seeps through your pores. It has you dancing with her, letting her hands lie on your waist and your hips sway together.

Your bodies generate a fountain of heat that consumes you. You can't help but just dance: feeling the beat in your very core. Mixed with your surplus of liquid courage, your body sways and gyrates, lighting a flame you won't be able to put out in Kafka. Her smile is wide and her eyes flicker toward the couch, meeting an intense amber gaze.

Blade is entertained…more so intrigued with how you can live freely even after your heart weighs you down. The smile on your face doesn't falter — it only grows and gleams and he can't stop watching you dance.

Should he take Kafka’s place? He wants to take Kafka’s place.

It should be his hands on your waist, his lips on your ears, his words making you laugh—“Ah, I’m exhausted,”

You plop down beside him with an exasperated groan. He almost jumps out of his skin when you appear, and looking up at Kafka who towers over the pair of you, he can tell this is only the beginning. Her smile is warm but all-telling: whatever idea she has brewing in her head is coming to fruition tonight.

“I’ll be back. Take care of her for me, Bladie,” she shoots him a wink. He almost doesn't know what to do. Should he talk to you? Take you to bed?

“Blade?” Your voice is so small, so cute. You're quiet beneath the jumble of sounds crammed in your apartment but he can pick you out amongst the masses. He's never heard you address him before and the way his name leaves your mouth…he’s always going to replay it in his head forever. “…Y-yeah?”

He doesn't stutter but fuck, you make him nervous.

Breathing out airily, you turn your head to him. “…Do you and Kafka date?”

“No.” His answer is straight and immediate. Must be a sore subject…

“Oh…” “Why do you ask?” He knows why you ask. The same reason everybody else does. “Dunno. You guys just seem…close.”

“She’s not my type of girl.”

“Oh?” You perk up, now intrigued. “Then, what is your type of girl?”

You. He picks at his nails and almost avoids your eyes. How does he answer this question without freaking you out? Ah…fuck it.

“…You.” He’s dying on the inside but at least you're drunk—you’re not going to remember this so it won't be that bad. “Really?”

Your tone pitches up as you adjust your position. You lean your head against your hand now, opting to look him in his eyes. His attention feels nice and hearing that somebody insanely attractive wants you. You make him nervous, making him twiddle his fingers, and his cheeks dust rosy. That's a type of flattery that you can't make up.

“Yeah,” he says matter-of-factly. As if it's so obvious that he likes girls like you.

“What about me do you like?”

“Oh, uh, I don't know…” he trails off. He suddenly remembers the solo cup he abandoned earlier in the night and picks it up off the floor. He’s going to need a serious buzz to bear his dirty laundry to the wind. “…everything?” He poses it like a question — as though your reaction would gauge the validity.

Your face was brighter and painted in a flustered manner. “Thank you,” is all you can say without word-vomiting.

“What are you two talking about?” Kafka breaks up your tension, handing you another full cup and weaving her way onto the couch. She takes a seat right behind you, effectively spooning you. She takes a look at Blade over your shoulder, noticing the blush that paints his cheeks and the refusal to look in your direction.

Downing big swigs of your mystery drink, you shake your head. “Oh, nothing…” You sing, giving Blade an obvious reassuring wink that Kafka laughs at. “Guess I should leave you two to it, huh?”

“To what?” You ask coyly. You giggle bubbly, hiding your grin behind your cup. Kafka gives you a look, “I’m interrupting, aren't I? It’s okay to push me away.”

“We didn't do anything yet!!”

“Yet?” Kafka and Blade exchange glances - a series of looks that only mean one thing.

You slap a hand over your mouth, laughing into your palm drunkenly. Your mind is hazy and covered in static. That's not what you meant to say— “Well, I mean…”

She quirks an eyebrow at you, cocking her head to the side. “What do you mean? You playing to run off with Bladie later?”

While that would be great and you aren't completely unopposed…“We were just talking.”

Kafka shrugs, dropping the topic. You’re determined to preserve the privacy of your conversation until the very end. Well, anyway, there are other methods of getting the show on the road.

Her brief time away from the pair of you was spent curating a queue of songs on Silver’s phone — songs she knows you like, songs she knows Blade likes, and songs she knows your inebriated bodies will like. Full of bass, full of sensuality, full of dirty innuendos that get your core filled with butterflies and your head filled with fantasies. She took it upon herself to mix up a concoction strong enough to wipe out a village of Pilgrims and your inhibitions.

From the moment your mother mentioned staying with you, Kafka thought of you. You’re a staple goody-two-shoes, held down to Earth with a strict upbringing and a perfectionist mindset. You were always eager for more, wide eyes watching as she and her friends explored all types of realms unbeknownst to you.

It’s her way of setting you free and paying you back. All those times you covered for her, all those times you took care of her after a long night out, and even now, taking her in when you have no reason to — it’s her way of saying thank you. Giving you the release you’ve been clawing for since she met you; giving you the release you deserve.

Blade is perfect for you. He's the type of guy to send your mother into cardiac arrest but the type of guy to love you right. He's not a man of many words but of many actions — a crafter, a creator, a provider, a carer. What you need is stability, something in scarce supply ever since your parents split up; but you also need someone to fix. That can't be Kafka, it won't be her.

She's going to hand you the tools to set you free, but it's up to you to forge your way out.

This box of safety you guard yourself in is coming down tonight. The burden of finding the perfect, golden guy, being the perfect, golden girl, and living a perfect, golden life is shriveling by the minute, each alcoholic sip you take singeing its weight.

The sultry beat of the next song punches through the atmosphere. The vibe of the party seems to slow down: the chatter lowers itself to background noise, bodies move longingly and languidly, and the lights seem dimmer. Your body feels heavier too, slumping forward on the couch to where your forehead collides with Blade’s knee.

His hands are quick to slip under your arms, helping you sit up straight. Kafka rubs a supportive hand in circles on your back, “You alright, little mouse?”

You look at the man in front of you, his silhouette slowly coming into focus. With his hair freed down his back and toned body dressed in his usual comfortable loungewear, he looks good. So fucking good with the worried look on his face.

“Hey, I got you,” he states.

In a second your strength is replenished and you muster the courage to lean in, stealing a kiss from him. It’s unexpected, sloppy, and tastes a whole hell of a lot like liquor…but, fuck, does it feel good.

He doesn't know what to do with his hands, choosing to remove them from beneath your arms and rehome them on your waist. The initial shock dissipates and his body naturally leads into your kiss, his eyes closing after taking in the image of an amused Kafka.

You whimper into his mouth, eager to climb onto his lap. Your hands roughly tangle in his hair, pulling his face unimaginably closer as if you were trying to consume him whole. The feeling of his slightly chapped lips against your glossed ones is like heaven - even better as he gets to re-slick them with his tongue.

It’s like the world around you doesn't exist anymore. Time could cease to exist and it wouldn't faze you because you have everything you need beneath you. The warmth of another person, the kisses of pure desire, the hands of desperation…it all rests in Blade and he delivers it unto you. It's all that matters right now, all you could ever wish for — forget Jing Yuan, your mother, whatever stressors have been weighing you down. It's insignificant, it doesn't matter, not when Blade sucks your tongue and his hands grab the fat of your ass.

It doesn't take much to escalate the situation with the amount of alcohol and stress in your body. It needs to all come out.

“Alright, lovebirds.” Kafka practically pulls you two apart, holding your hand and hoisting you to your feet. “Let’s get you to bed,”

You grumble like a petulant child, holding your other hand out for Blade to grab. He’s quick to slip your hand into his. “I don't wanna go to bed…”

Leading you through the myriad of people, Kafka laughs, “Don’t worry. We’re not going to sleep.”

You giggle at her words, the meaning not fully processing in your hazy head. You miss her innuendos the way you always have, focusing on Blade. His arm wraps around your waist to stabilize you with Kafka’s hand locked in yours. It’s intimate, it’s nice, and though you can't see the heat burn in his skin in this darkness, you can feel it with how close he is to you.

Kafka leads the three of you into your room, flickering your light on and closing the door behind you all. She locks it while you basically drag Blade to your bed.

You're more abrasive when you're drunk: grabbing Blade by the fabric of his shirt into another sloppy kiss. It’s amusing to watch, Kafka’ll give you that. But that's not the image she had in mind.

“Easy tiger,” she purrs, sitting behind you on the bed. You both catch your breaths, looking at each other with small smiles. There's a spark of desire in the room, latching onto any and everything and setting it ablaze. It’s hot and palpable and you need to set it out. “Let’s take our time, yeah?”

It doesn't register what she meant by that until her hands are fondling your chest and her chin rests on your shoulder. “Mmh…” she moans, feeling your nipples harden through your dress, “We’ve been waiting a real long time for this, haven't we, Bladie?”

He finds himself at a loss for words, swallowing thickly and keeping his eyes trained to you. “Yeah…”

“Why don't you come show her, then?” Kafka instructs, fluttering her eyes up to him. He doesn't need much encouragement to catch your bobbing head with his palm, leaning in and taking the lead in your kiss.

Under his behest, the kisses are softer, tamer, but filled with just as much—if not more—fire as before. He takes his time in carefully traversing your mouth with his tongue — completely contrasting from the kisses you gave him previously. You were taking a page from the book of Jing Yuan, using how he kissed you as a guideline for the basis. But that's not what you wanted. What you wanted from the very beginning was for him to take his time: to savor you down to every detail until your lips bruised and swelled, then move on to the rest of your body with passion.

Blade’s kisses were heavy with passion and need - as if he, too, was holding onto a package full of burdens.

As he moves down your jaw and neck, Kafka’s hands travel down to the hem of your dress, slipping under and gripping your bare sides. Her hands are cold and you flinch at the feeling, but it soon feels nice as her hands slide to cup your boobs under your bra. Your head falls back on her shoulder, allowing Blade more access to the expanse of your neck.

Your hips pathetically gyrate against the bed, receiving minimal friction that aids you in no way. It only makes you needier.

Blade pulls away to let Kafka pull your dress over your head, revealing the pretty, matching white set you have on underneath. You so obviously wore this with Jing Yuan in mind, and it irritates Blade that he was ever worthy enough to you to warrant such an ensemble. It was never right, never fair — but he has you now, and he doesn't plan on letting you go.

Kafka takes the initiative and unclips your bra, tossing the undergarment to the floor alongside your dress. You're pushed flat onto the mattress where she takes a moment to remove her crop top, leaning over you in her black lace bra.

She places a chaste kiss on your lips leaving your eyes to widen — watching with blown pupils as she lowers herself to your chest and darts her tongue toward your pebbled nipple. You drawl out a whine, your body curling up in response. She swirls the nub, dragging her teeth lightly on it and leaving you hissing and whimpering. All the while, Blade strips down to his underwear, tossing his long hair to the back and palming the tent in his pants.

You turn your head to your left and spot him, your face cringing in pleasure. You stretch your arms toward him and he complies, letting your hands find the sides of his head and pull him in for another kiss.

An agile hand slithers beneath the thin band of your panties, a slender finger slipping between your labia and running through your folds. You moan out into Blade’s mouth, hips jerking away and legs kicking into the air. “Your sensitive pussy’s all wet…” Kafka observes. She lays her head right below your boob, focusing her attention between your legs.

“‘S making a mess through your panties.” She laughs when you moan out again, her finger traveling down to your entrance and prodding.

“Kafka…” you moan, pulling away from Blade.

“Let’s see how long it takes to make you cum,” it’s so obvious that you're not going to last. Your cunt is soaked and only gets wetter by the minute, and her teasing ministrations have you moaning like a bitch in heat.

She adjusts her position, peeling down your panties and leaving them around your ankles lazily. The draft in your room whistles against your soaked folds - a chill runs up your spine as a result. She spits onto her hand as if it's needed, diving straight toward your clit. The sensitive bud is attacked mercilessly: heavy pressure weighing on it as Kafka draws figure-eights. There's a sticky clicking sound that arises and it makes her smile, taking a look at you and Blade over her shoulder.

You suck on his thumb, his left hand rubbing from your neck to your chest. Your whimpers are contained behind his digit, but your watery eyes say all. “You hear that?” She suddenly speeds up her actions, making your back arch and voice sing out around Blade’s finger.

And like a professional, she slows down, inching her finger back down to your hole. It slips in with ease and she sighs. “Dunno if she’s gonna be able to take you, Bladie,”

She pushes her middle finger in knuckle-deep, twisting her finger as she slithers her ring finger in beside it. Blade’s finger in your mouth does nothing to pacify you any longer - her fingers in your cunt bringing out the sweetest moans they’ve collectively ever heard. “She’s so tight…squeezing around my fingers.”

You writhe around in Blade’s hold and your arms brush over his hard-on every now and then. He winces and hisses, bucking into your touch. He needs to preoccupy himself before he cums in his pants—deciding to aid Kafka. His hand tentatively crawls toward your clit, rougher, thicker fingers pinching your bud. It has you huffing out a wail, balling your fist weakly on his thigh.

They keep up a steady pace in tandem, building up your orgasm with ease. Your body is reactive and receptive to their touch: falling apart when your core gets tight and even hotter.

“C’mon, little mouse…let it out for me,” Kafka encourages. She places sparse kisses against your thighs, the print of her lips faintly left in the color of her lipstick. “I can feel it. You wanna cum so bad,”

“Do it,” she murmurs between kisses, “let it out.”

It’s like your body is under her control. Your orgasm builds and crashes in a matter of seconds. Your hole spasms around her fingers but she never stops scissoring them inside of you, rubbing against your sweet spot and effectively overstimming you. You wail heartily, wrapping your arms around Blade’s arm and stopping him from continuing.

Kafka doesn't stop finger-fucking you until you come down from your high and endlessly whimper. She smears your release all over your pussy, bringing her coated fingers to her mouth.

Exaggeratedly, she sucks your juices off of her fingers, making sure to rock her hips against nothing and moan at the taste. “Mmfh,” and with a pop, she removes her digits from her mouth.

She hovers over you trying to catch your breath, capturing your face in her hand and squeezing your cheeks, forcing your lips to part. She lets her saliva drop from her mouth to yours, backing up with a smile. She stops you from swallowing: “Share,” she says.

You and Blade’s lips meet, smushing and mixing yours and Kafka’s spit. It gets messier, sloppier, and it's completely inefficient due to your awkward position but you comply nonetheless.

When you part, Kafka is making quick work of you and flips you over to your stomach. You yelp and giggle, looking over your shoulder and meeting her wide smile. Her index finger boops your nose and she turns to Blade, presumably signaling for him to get up. He stands up, hands grabbing your ankles and adjusting you perfectly.

Kafka slaps your tailbone softly, using her other hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Ass up,” she instructs, and you listen.

You wiggle your butt in the air with a laugh, laying your head on Kafka’s lap. Her pants are pretty comfortable and you find yourself becoming relaxed — while behind you Blade is pulling his boxers down and freeing his dick.

The last time you had actual sex was months ago…as in the middle to end of your freshman year. It was a forgotten one-night stand you met through a dating app - but he’s no match for Blade.

He presses the tip to your entrance, just teasing. Your heavy eyelids fly up, and you immediately brace yourself. You barely felt him, but he's big. You know it.

“Fuck…” he hisses. He wedges his cock between your folds, feeling your wetness smear against him. You feel his width, his length, his weight—he’s a lot less girthy than what you felt with your hands with Yuan, but he makes up for it in length.

If he keeps dragging his dick between your folds he’s going to cum. He has to physically stop himself, sucking in a deep breath because it's now or nothing.

Pressing the tip in you both gasp — and your sounds only drawl out until he completely bottoms out. He's so deep, and you're so wet. He's so big, and you're so tight. Dribbles of your previous orgasm and endless arousal seep out around him, and he nearly moans at the sight.

Getting a good grip on your ass, he spreads your cheeks, pushing you forward while pulling out. It’s a languid motion, edging you for the heart-stopping drop he imposes when you're filled fully again. Your moans come out with every collision and they're full of air. Your chest is tight and all of your air is flying out of your mouth. He's rendering you breathless, but it's nothing compared to how you're making him feel.

Blade begins to gradually increase his pace to satiate this intense hunger. He fucking needs you.

Now that he has a taste of you, his head is clear and his body is in nirvana. His strokes are precise and sharp. He pistons out of you with control, deep grunts skipping out of his mouth. It’s like your pussy is made for him: squeezing him just right in a tight hug and drooling endlessly.

Splat splat splat! The wet sound echoes from your collisions, battling against the barrage of moans that escape your mouth. “Oh, f-f—” you stutter over the curse, clawing at Kafka’s legs. She coos at you, rubbing your face. “You can take it, you got it. Good girl,”

“C-can’t! ‘M gonna cum!” You sob, burying your face into her leg.

Your body hasn't recovered from your previous orgasm, still reeling and the added pleasure Blade stacks on doesn't help. You feel like you're going to explode, wailing and drooling all over the place as your hips gain a mind of their own, fucking back against Blade and chasing your release.

“Think you can squirt for us?”

Oh, hell yeah. If there's one thing Blade wants to do for you, it's to ruin anybody else for you. He wants a monopoly over your body — he wants you to know him as your main source of Heaven on Earth and if there’s one way to do that…

In three swift movements, you're flipped back onto your back, legs on his shoulders. He slips back in with ease, wasting no time in pounding your cunt. He’s fiercer, more determined: drawn up with furrowed brows and his bottom lip snatched between his teeth, Blade becomes a different person.

There's more need, more fervor, an insatiable feeling that’s driven by your warm pussy around him and the idea of being the first person to make you squirt—the only person to make you squirt.

Kafka wraps her hand around your throat, squeezing the sides, and watches with pure amusement as your eyes grow foggier and your sounds grow choppier. They're just using your body, pushing you to the very limit and it's working so well.

A new fire has been lit under your ass and you feel alive — you're on top of the world and nothing but a grand finale can bring you down.

“G-got tighter…” Blade grunts out. Kafka turns to you, seeing how even though your eyes and mouth spill over, you still manage to curl your lips into a toothy grin. “Think she likes it,”

“You like this, huh? Being choked out while getting fucked silly?” God, yes. You love it—you’re on cloud nine.

In this position, Blade can fuck you deeper. He’s effectively digging you out, the slight left-leaning curve of his cock hitting your g-spot again and again. Quakes rack through your body again; it’s coming.

They both can tell and it's getting sloppy. Blade is holding back from blowing his load deep in you, and Kafka? Well, Kafka’s happy to play the supporting role - now letting go of your neck and wedging her head between you and Blade.

With her ass in the air, Kafka dives into the perfect arch to let her lips wrap around your clit, taking the neglected bud into her warm mouth with a long moan. The vibrations jolt through your body and you nearly scream out, thrashing above them.

It's too much, your body can't handle it. You start to crumble: your stomach gnarling and tears streaming down your face. “IcantIcantIcant—” Your hands frantically try to push Blade away but to no avail.

His grunts grow more animalistic as he puts all of his body weight into his thrusts, slowing down. He goes harder, making your body jostle with each grind of his hips. His face is knitted in pleasure, his porcelain skin damp with sweat and blemished in a crimson brushing. Kafka abusing your puffy clit with her tongue has you and Blade losing your minds, collectively falling apart.

This is it. This is pure, unadulterated bliss.

White hot heat surges through your body as you shake. Your thighs quiver on Blade’s shoulders, and Kafka can feel the stiffness of your clit. She slithers back to her seated position, her eyes never leaving the passion-filled affair occur.

Words you try to form only come out as broken squeaks and even Blade can't hold back any longer, letting out a string of blissed-out curse words as you clamp around him. The orgasm that begins to pour out of you is paired with a force that’s all but pushing him out.

You sob and he moans out — one last thrust breaking the floodgates. A clear stream shoots from between your legs, spurting at his abs. All the while, his orgasm comes over him, filling you with all his heavy balls had been storing.

You can't even move. Your chests heave for big breaths, unable to catch them.

It’s a high you can't come down from — filled with a surplus of electricity, liquor, and desire. You needed that more than anything, you needed him more than anything.

┄┄

A small yawn leaps from your mouth when your eyes begrudgingly open. What time even is it…?

You swing your arm over behind you in search of the device — but you're instead met with flesh. You're suddenly wide awake, sitting straight up only to realize you're completely naked. You turn to your side and there lays Blade, snoring softly into your pillow.

What the hell happened last night…

You jump out of bed, find something stray to throw on and feel an incredible ache between your legs. Clearly, you had quite the night. You can't concisely remember what happened last night and right now is definitely not the time to rehash your decisions.

You're not completely opposed to doing whatever you did with Blade because…well, he's Blade. He's always been attractive to you, and at least he’s willing to treat you like a person.

You're not going to wake him up so you leave him a note: scribbling your number on a random piece of paper and scurrying out of the room.

You need to find your phone and get some air—“Good morning. Took you a while to get up, huh.”

Kafka sits at the bar, stuffing her mouth with a spoonful of cereal. Does she know that you and Blade…

“Oh, yeah. Hey. Good morning…” you awkwardly puff out. Your voice is hoarse and you cringe at the sound, placing your hands on your chest with concern. “I’m gonna go um…get some food,”

“I made some eggs earlier if you want some—” “—I’m good. I could use the air, anyway.”

Kafka shrugs, turning back to her cereal. You rush out of your apartment in a blur, slamming the door and leaving Kafka in a brief silence.

Moments after you left, Blade emerges from the hallway. “Morning sleepy head. How’d you sleep?” She teases.

He nods, rubbing his eye. He takes a seat next to Kafka, holding up a piece of paper between two fingers. “Woke up to this,”

“The hell is that?” Kafka questions, spinning her spoon around in her bowl.

He flips the paper over, “Her number.”

A smile breaks across her face and she slaps his arm playfully. “Look at you!”

Blade fights off a coy smile, twirling the paper between his fingers. He waited so long, so patiently—and it was all worth it. He would do it again and again. All just to make you his.

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