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eddiernunson · 11 months

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Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 12.8k

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing for me I appreciate it, bestie

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spitting ideas and giving feedback.

Warnings: Degradation/praise, eating out, public sex, daddy kink, and several scenes where smut is mentioned but not described. There is about 1k of words just from Dylan's perspective but its worth it trust me.

Eddie is a bit of a sugar daddy in this part, but its ok cause we all want him to spoil us anyway.

Author's note: Some of y'all are gonna make me cry with how kind you are with your words for this fic. I cannot believe how much this story has truly taken over my life. People have expressed sharing it with friends and I just cannot get over that. Thank you.

Your hands held a home-made cocktail on ice while The Princess Diaries played on the tv, a soft blanket covered your crossed legs as you sat with both Sky and Bethany in your living room, scattered along your couch.

Bethany often snuck a joint or two while she visited, the window staying open to minimize a smell with a 20-dollar fan in front of it to promote air circulation. It was nice to have a girls’ night, to order bags of chips and candy over SkiptheDishes, wear face masks, do your makeup for the hell of it, and just let loose.

Bethany made her way over about a movie and a half ago, and she was now explaining a stupid mishap from her office administrative position that quite literally pulled the company to a halt for 45 minutes. “I swear, you could not pay me enough to put up with those drivers.” She claims, taking an inhale from the joint in her two painted fingers.

Sky makes a sudden movement in her seat, reaching to the remote next to her to pause the movie. “Holy shit. Did I tell you I saw Eddie?” Her question is directed across you to Bethany, and you’re left wondering why the hell your boyfriend is the new topic of discussion.

“Wait, what?” Bethany asks, wide green eyes moving back and forth between you and Sky. “When and where?”

“Our date?” You interject her, a little weirded out by the turn this conversation has taken. “When Eddie picked me up, she was here.”

“Oh, I see.” She hums to herself. “Well, since she won’t show us a photo, please tell me what the man who’s old enough to be her father looks like.”

You roll your eyes at this, a cheeky thought occurring to you. “Well Dylan might be great; but he is a sequel. Ain’t nothing compared to the original.”

Sky nods, agreeing. “Eddie is… very good looking.” You shoot her a warning look, for some reason, her just alluding to his good looks makes you feel territorial. “Show her a picture if you don’t want to hear it, damn! Just telling the truth…”

“It’s not that I won’t show you guys,” you explain, unlocking your phone. “It’s that he doesn’t use social media, so he has no good photos of himself.” On the internet, at least.

“What, no throw back photos from Dylan’s insta?” Sky asks, mostly joking.

You go to Dylan’s insta, and you can’t view it. Fuck, you forgot. He blocked you. Even though he seems to be on better terms with you, simple reminders like being blocked from his social media or him refusing to tell any details about his life remind you he’s still nursing a healing wound. “Still blocked.” You look up, and their faces tell you they’re not letting up on it. “Fine. I’ll go to Eddie’s Facebook.”

Eddie added you as a friend the day after your date, adorably waiting as you went on your phone to accept it. The moment you did he went onto your profile and dove into your photos. His eyes were comically wide as he scrolled through them, and after the first few swipes he lifted his head to you. “You just put these on here? Fuck.” The photos weren’t even particularly bad, just you in a bikini on the beach or in a summer dress, he’s just that obsessed with you. You asked him if he minded and he shook his head comically, his dimples so prominent from his wide smile, he looked manic. “Oh, I never said to stop, sweetheart.”

Your thumb slides into Eddie’s profile, and while you were afraid of the calls from a judgemental relative about the relationship with him the word single on his relationship status still hits you hard in the chest. You move to his photos, past the useless profile picture that was his company logo of Munson’s Garage and swipe through the regular posts, past Dylan’s graduation from college, from high school, a picture of a nice car, an old one of his ex with Dylan, (barf), until you finally got through to a throwback, one posted in 2011.

It was taken in the 90s, so a picture of a picture of him sitting at an old kitchen table arm in arm with another dude. One of his feet was up on the table, and he was clutching a beer, lifting it to the camera. His friend was talking to someone off camera, distracted for the moment, his slightly freckled face in a scowl. His friend had brown hair down to his neck styled specifically in a swoop, and they seemed about the same age.

His friend was quite attractive, but younger Eddie made you fucking drool. God, he was so gorgeous. He wore a leather jacket under a denim vest, ripped blue jeans over his big black boots. Fuck. You almost didn’t want to share this photo.

You go to the next photo, and a giggle leaves your mouth as you see him posing with a friend, tongues out and devil horns on their heads as smiles peek through. The background is a stage at an Iron Maiden concert, and they both look ecstatic. It’s a different friend in this one with curly hair, but it looked like he had posted from the Iron Maiden concert. A few more scrolls told you that the throwback photo would be the best option.

“Ok.” You finally say, and both girls have been waiting so long at this point they’ve started scrolling on their own phones. “Guys. You wanna see it or not?”

You hand your phone to Bethany, indicating he was the one on the right. The possessiveness that hits you when you see her reaction, her wide eyes and jaw literally dropping, stunted you. “Holy shit. This is him from how long ago?”

“In the late 90s, I guess.” You tell her.

She hands the phone to Sky, who was asking for it repeatedly as soon as Bethany let out her reaction. “Oh, yeah. He was a cutie. Honestly, he’s hotter now.” Your teeth grit, and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“How?” Bethany asks, gesturing to your phone.

“Ok. Enough. He’s very good looking. But he’s fucking taken.” You bark out, holding your hand out for the phone.

They both stop talking, your sudden anger very uncharacteristic of you. Usually when you find someone particularly good looking, you’d show them off, agreeing with your two friends when they would praise their good looks. This wasn’t anything like those times. Hearing their praises just makes you want to sink your teeth into Eddie’s neck and mark your territory the next time you see him.

“Woah, girl.” Sky says, laughing lightly to diffuse the tension. “Never seen that side of you before.”

“Well, I didn’t even know she existed until a waitress looked at Eddie on our date and I wanted to throttle her,” You admit, grabbing the nearly empty cocktail and taking a sip. “I just…I don’t know why I’m so territorial over him, but God, the thought of him with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

Bethany holds her hands up in surrender, “Alright, we won’t compliment him anymore. But you did good, girl. You did mighty good.”

As per usual, the girls'-day-in resulted in the three of you falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered across the three of you. The sun cascading through a window by the couch wakes you up, disgruntled, as you pat around for your phone. The screen greets you harshly, your notifications indicating you have three messages from Eddie, two from a manager at work, and the several random ones, which you clear out, not caring about Instagram stories for the moment. Eddie texted to say he was going into work for a few hours. The next two messages indicated if you were there when he got home, he wouldn’t be against it.

Basically, he just told you to please be there when he got home. Fuck, the feeling of him reaching out first was enough to send a wide smile to your face, staring stupidly at your phone. You message him back, letting him know you’ll be there.

The messages from your manager were one from two hours ago, asking if you’d be able to come in for 10 o’clock– Which was thirty-five minutes ago– and the second asked if you were able to come in at all. You quirk your eyebrow, glad your read receipts are off for her, because you’re planning now to text at 3 o'clock to let her know that, oops, you just saw this. No, you’re not going in on your day off, you’ll be spending it with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

You leap from your couch, running into your room to pack another overnight bag. You’re out the door before the others even stir.

As you pull into Eddie’s driveway, you notice Dylan’s truck there, but Eddie’s is still gone. You wonder when he’ll be back, because although Dylan is civil towards you, interactions with him are still stunted. You open the front door, grateful Dylan tended to leave it unlocked. You drop your overnight bag and pillow off at the staircase, its usual spot, before you trot off to the living room where Dylan sits watching tv.

As you plop down next to him on the other side of the couch, Dylan looks to you, startled by the movement, but his eyes roll in exasperation when he realizes that it’s you. “Hi.” You sing-song to him, knowing you’re annoying him, but having fun with it anyways.

“Hey.” He deadpans, watching the tv instead of looking over to you.

“Oh, wow you’re almost caught up.” You say, indicating to a show that you had recommended he watched a while back.

“Turned out to be a good show.” He comments, sounding annoyed.

“Well, how about that?” You retort, and Dylan rolls his eyes before a small smile lands on his face.

Progress.

Less than an hour later, the front door closes, indicating Eddie’s homecoming. He walks in, and as you pay attention to a particularly good episode in this series, you hear a big stretch come from him. “Hi, Ed!” You call out, finally turning towards him.

Fuck. Holy shit.

A few grease stains paint Eddie’s hands and chin, and he’s wearing a pair of blue coveralls from work with a patch on his chest of his name. The grease monkey suit shows off his muscles beautifully, both sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair is tied back into a messy bun, and you’re sure he forgot about the reading glasses on his head. Oh god, he is mouth watering.

A throw pillow hits your face, completely startling you. You whip your head around, glaring at the culprit. “Little drool.” Dylan mouths, pointing to his chin.

“Oh, little drool?” You mock, getting up to hit him with the pillow hard. He chuckles, fighting you off.

You push his shoulder off, shuffling into the kitchen. You turn to see Eddie moving around the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. “Hi baby!” You greet him, reaching out for him.

“Oh, hi baby.” He says, following up with an air kiss. He breaks into laughter at your scowl. “Sorry, you don’t want this grease on you. It smells terrible and it’s not fun to wash off.”

“But there’s no grease on your lips.” You point out, staring at those pretty pink lips of his.

“Baby, I cannot kiss you without touching you and there is grease all over my hands.” He chuckles, holding them out.

You want to point out that he’s getting things dirty with grease in the kitchen, including his sandwich, by his own logic, but you have a feeling you won’t get away with it very easily. “Fine. Come see me when you’ve had a shower then.” You tell him, attempting to waddle back to the living room.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie tuts, grabbing your hand. “Come with me, after I shower, I need time with you in my bed.”

“In your bed? Or, in your bed?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing suggestively at the second option.

“If you didn’t know the answer by now, clearly I haven’t done my job right.” He says in a lowly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Eddie turns around to the sandwich he made as if he hadn’t said a word, grabbing it quickly before tugging on your hand to take you up the stairs.

He hops into the shower, you scroll through your phone on his bed as you wait, somewhat impatiently, your panties already uncomfortable from his stroll into the house in his work uniform.

Fuck, he was hot. You thought about him. His muscles, the slight glisten of sweat, and your phone was tossed aside before you even realized your hands were roaming over your body. You close your eyes, the image of him busy at work on his back on one of those…rolly things in your head. His forearms flexing, the look of concentration on his face.

Your hands itch for your center and you can barely hold back anymore, thankful you opted for a pair of stretchy shorts. Your fingers graze your center easily, rolling around in small circles as you picture the easy access his coveralls would give you, showing up with a dress and no panties and just riding him in his office. Fuck, maybe you wouldn’t even make it there. Goddamn, the images were too hot, your panties finding their way around your ankles as you grind up against your own fingers.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes fling open to see your boyfriend in his towel. You were so wrapped up you didn’t even notice the water from his shower turn off. He’s staring, open mouthed and eyes dark, and Jesus… This was a fantasy of yours from the beginning. You continue, staring half lidded back at him, hand grabbing up at his bed frame when it started to feel so fucking good.

Eddie’s towel drops when his brain catches up, jumping into his bed to lay next to you. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” He asks, and you let out a whimper as he lightly kisses your neck. “Just couldn’t fucking wait.”

“You were so hot—” you gasp out, moving faster on yourself now. “—in that goddamn uniform. Wanna…wanna ride you in it.”

The very indication that you were playing with yourself because you found him that hot in his uniform is too much for Eddie to process. He nearly moans, leaning for another kiss on your neck. His hands are itching to help you, itching to take off the rest of those clothes that hide your gorgeous body, but he holds back, needing to know more about it. “What—what were you thinkin’ ‘bout, baby?”

“You, in the uniform…” you tell him, your hips starting to move when your want grows. Why isn’t he helping?

“C’mon, baby. I wanna touch you but I just gotta know.” Eddie tells you, his voice gruff.

A gulp moves through your throat before opening your mouth to tell him. “Your dick out of the uniform, and me with no panties and a dress at your shop, riding you anywhere…your office, the rolly thing, god, just you in that uniform…Ed…”

Goddammit, was that an idea Eddie certainly had before. He has wanted to show you around his workplace, but also christen it with you, and he had had the exact idea with his uniform and you in a dress, to boot. “Fuck, my horny, eager little slut, hey?” Eddie asks, watching your closed eyes as you continue to work yourself.

“Please…please touch me?” You ask him, the torture of his voice there but not actually helping you is too much. “Want…want you.”

“Hmm. Horny little slut didn’t wait for me…I dunno if she even deserves my help.” He bluffs, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the slick of your wet pussy.

You nearly cry out in protest, not calling him on his bluff. “I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself…you’re just so…fuck…you’re so fucking hot, Ed.”

He leans in to kiss you and you accept it gratefully, a smile against his lips. As his lips move against yours, deepening the kiss to easily work his tongue against yours, his hands land on yours against your pussy delicately, gently pulling your fingers to the side. He slides a digit in and you whimper into his mouth, your hips thrusting up. “Oh, so fucking desperate.” You nod your head, agreeing with him. You’re desperate for more. Even with Eddie on your mind, your fingers never even compared to his.

He leans into your neck, the scent of his aftershave and body wash strong but oh-so-goddamn good. He slides your shirt up your torso smoothly with his free hand and pulls it from your neck fiercely. You feel his hand somewhat desperately go around your back to unhook your bra, and as it falls casually over the edge onto the floor, he moans at the sight of your exposed tit, your nipple just begging to be touched.

He leans in to mouth the bud, and you whimper at the sensation. He pauses, breathing heavily and open mouthed onto it. You gasp, his hot breath sending waves down your body. “Fuck, so pretty.” Eddie mutters to himself, dark eyes watching your face as you get closer.

A desperate hand of yours tugs him up to your face, desperate for more of his wet and hypnotizing kisses. “Fuck me.” You gasp, suddenly feeling that his fingers weren’t enough. “Need…need your cock. Please.”

Eddie’s mouth opens at the prospect of you simply begging for him, and you can feel a shift in his energy as he starts to kiss you deeper and hungrier. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I possibly say no?” He hums, his hand framing your face.

He finishes yanking the last of your pants off your ankles. As he settles himself in between your legs, he can’t help himself. He leans down, taking one long lick along your folds, for just a taste. You whimper in response, knees springing up to your chest. Eddie chuckles, crawling up slowly until his chest lines up with yours, the tingle of him against you too much to handle. Slowly, he moves into you, and as he stretches you open, your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Eddie watches the utter bliss that takes over your face.

“Oh that beautiful face you make, sweetheart.” He grunts, smoothing his hands over your forehead. His words make you pulse around him. “This fucking tight little pussy wrapped around—” he stops, grunting as you continue to pulse around him. One hand moves down to your hip, caressing it softly he uses the leverage to buck into you.

A hushed swear comes out of you, the simple pleasure from his cock alone sending you into euphoria. Eddie continues slowly, enjoying every inch of your heat around him. “Your pussy…god how did I live without it?”

You clutch onto him, staring up into his darkened brown eyes. You open your mouth to respond in kind, but the particularly harsh rut into you leaves your mouth gasping open and your eyes fluttering shut in pure heaven. “Oh, that’s it.” He mutters, hips moving faster. “That’s my cock-drunk little whore.”

Your nails scratch down his back, and he moans in response. “Eddie, your cock. There’s…I…please.”

“I-I know, baby. I know.”

He collapses onto your chest, and you feel his cock twitch into you as your orgasm takes over your body. His hand carefully sweeps your sweaty forehead as he watches you recover, your eyes losing their haze as you return to earth. “Hi.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi.” You smile. For once, he does take his dick out of you right away, despite your protests. However, you can’t protest any further when he comes back and wraps his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back, his still steadying breaths lulling you into a quiet nap.

Somehow, you know that his arms are always going to be the best place in the world.

About an hour later, you’re snuggled against his side, legs intertwined as Eddie watches his show and you work on a crossword puzzle. “What’s a six-letter word for angry?” You ask him, stumped for a good minute.

“Uh…grumpy? Heated? Hmm…raging?”

“Raging! Fuck, I couldn’t get that one. Thanks, baby.” You tell him, receiving a kiss on the head as a response. “Why’d you go in for work, Ed?”

“Other than making my baby horny?” He jokes, muttering it into your hair. “Well, one of my best-known clients called and my men know that when he calls, they need to call me in, because his car is just—” he cuts himself off, holding out the OK sign. He continues talking about the mechanics/politics of handling a car like this in his job. The caliber, the horsepower, the specialized engine, and everything else.

It’s not like you know a whole lot about cars. Most of what he is saying comes out as gibberish. But you listen to him, watching as he gets more and more animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he excitedly explains his morning. You watch him, a soft smile creeping up your face as he describes…what, you weren’t even sure, to you.

He stops as he notices the peculiar look on your face, your eyes glazed over. “What?” he asks, wondering if you caught even a word of his story.

“I love you.” It comes out before you even realize. But it’s true.

With your whole chest, you love him.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he looks at you like you had placed each star in the sky just for him. Because you did. “I-I’ve been wanting to say that to you since I first saw you.”

His words feel both impossible and like they make the most sense in the entire world. Because since day one, you have been captivated by him in every sense imaginable. Taking the time to get to know, see and love every inch of him before recognizing that yes, this is love.

This all occurs to you within a second, because Eddie’s hand is framing your face and you feel his lips on yours, deep and caring to a point that takes your goddamn breath away. Your tongue collides with his, and his fingers are so gentle as they cradle your face it barely feels like he’s holding it. He tastes so good, like the air you breathe is suddenly useless, and all you need to do is breathe him. His fingers intertwine in your hair, he gasps as his forehead collides with your own, clinging onto you for dear life.

“Will you say it?” You ask, realizing he still hasn’t.

“I fucking love you.” He says in a low, soft voice. He uses a hand to force you back and you open your eyes to look into his beautiful brown ones. “I love you.”

Your chest inflates rapidly, like all the emotion just bursts into it. A giggle escapes your lips, the smile on your face seeming to be permanently etched there. He tugs you into the tightest hug, and you feel his heart beat rapidly against your own as your arms fling themselves around his torso, burying your head in his neck.

God, it’s like you fit perfectly there.

He slouches down, ignoring the book you dropped and the forgotten tv show, and lays you down, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you as you curl into his chest. He nestles his nose into your hair, breathing you in, feeling the breath, the life in you as you breathe in sync with him.

Any sense of time, responsibilities, or the outside world become muted and pale in comparison.

It’s just you and him.

The sizzling sounds of bacon for dinner mixed with Eddie’s humming to some oldies fill the kitchen. Every time he turns around from the stove to grab something, he shoots you a smile that captivates his face, something that you wholeheartedly return each time. The acknowledgement that this is love somehow didn’t feel like it had tied you to anything or that any new expectations were put on either one of you. You simply want his company and he, yours.

You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, though the sight of his hips in his low sitting sweatpants are much more enticing than anything your phone’s algorithms have to show you. Playfully, Eddie keeps dancing a little too hard to the music, head banging and swinging his hips to even the softest of Dad Rock.

God, it’s Heaven. As Eddie serves up a few plates, Dylan comes down dressed in one of his better date night outfits.

“Ooh, hot date?” You ask him, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

Dylan’s brows furrow, stopping mid stride. “Yeah. Not talking to you about that. You’re still my ex. And you’re still seeing my dad. Weirdo.”

Eddie sends a glare his way, eyes darkening in a split second. Dylan rolls his eyes, sneaking around him to grab a bite of bacon. Ignoring it, Eddie places a plate in front of you with eggs, bacon and toast, and you thank him as he leans in for a kiss.

“Love you.” Eddie mutters, and you smile into his lips and feel him do the same.

“L-love?” Dylan spits out, his voice exasperated. He shakes his head, still chewing on the bacon. “Fuck right off.”

“Dyl.” Eddie starts, leaning forward as he takes a bite from his toast. He has a devious smile on his face, chewing on his idea. “Quiet. The adults are talking.”

If you had expected something out of pocket, it certainly wasn’t that.

The brown eyes Dylan shares with his father widen in pure exasperation. “What?? Dad, I’m six months older than her!”

You barely keep in the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. Eddie grins at you and lets out his own chuckle. “That’ll teach you to be an ass, huh?”

Dylan doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth and yanks one more piece of bacon before leaving through the front door.

Dylan Munson got dealt a dirty fucking hand from whoever the fuck is in charge of this shit.

It was only a mere nine weeks ago when you made your way across the mixer to say hi to him that he thought things were going his way. The more he saw you, the more he thought that this had to be leading to something. It made sense to him, but as he had started mentioning long term plans or anything of the like, he could feel you clam up. Every time he mentioned something requiring commitment, your shoulders tensed up, your face winced by only a smidge, but when it became a regular occurrence, Dylan realized you might not have been ready as you thought you were.

He was willing to accept it. So, he took matters into his own hands. Honestly, he would’ve been fine paying the daily fee for parking, but he knew his dad was there, and he was excited to introduce you to him. Boy, what a shit show that turned out to be.

As he woke up to an empty bed, he had expected you to be downstairs. Instead, he was faced with a bowl of cereal without the milk, and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there. He searched the whole house. Your bag, clothes, and shoes were still there, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far. Turns out, he was right. You didn’t. You went two doors down from his own.

The sight of you and his fucking dad in the white sheets was already too much to bear, and then the stab of betrayal from his own father hurt more the initial shock of yours, tugging angry tears from his eyes as he ran to his room. The torture of hearing your whimpers, a sound he knew well, while downstairs trying to cheer himself up was fucking brutal.

When you finally left, his dad came home with a terribly apologetic look on his face as he walked through the front door. Dylan refused to hear a damn word out of his mouth, dismissing all his claims of ‘holding back as long as he could’ and ‘I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’ Shit just hurt.

A day later, Dylan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the anger finally kicking in. His dad did yell back, but mostly at the choice words aimed at you. It hurt for a moment, as it felt like he cared more about someone he had met last week, his (now ex) girlfriend.

When you and his dad showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon, he realized this would become a new normal. Didn’t mean he liked it.

He came home after a relatively long day at work to you and his dad sitting and watching a movie comfortably. His knee jerk reaction was to swear angrily, but the look on your face stuck with him. You had never relaxed with him. You were always looking around corners or there was some part in your body unable to lean into him completely.

As you apologized awkwardly on his bed, his hurt finally felt acknowledged by you, and fuck, he needed to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong. He genuinely started to wonder if he did.

Most of his nights he spent going out, his friends asking where the hot new girlfriend he was bragging about now was. He just said you cheated on him and it was over and they called you a bitch and moved on.

Yes, even Ethan. (The one friend you actually liked)

He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, always making his way back to the house where his ex was expected to be at any given time. God, it was so shit.

After your apology, though, he had to admit, you looked good together. It seemed like his dad’s smile just hadn’t left his face for days, and goddamn, was it annoying to admit that you were good for him. That remaining anger seemed to itch at him, unable to forgive or forget, a buried hatchet with an X to mark the spot.

Ethan eventually brought his girlfriend to boys’ night out, which was met with disgruntled groans from the collective group. Ethan’s girlfriend invited a friend who would be joining, and Dylan fought hard not to roll his eyes.

An hour into the night, a drink, and a few good dances in, Ethan’s girlfriend brought her in, and Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, no one said she would be fucking gorgeous.

If Dylan thought you were out of his league, then Maya wasn’t even playing the same game. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he knew he had to grab this girl a drink and get her number, now. As he pulled into an easy conversation with her, the hairs stood on his arms as it felt electric just being near her.

Maya met his enthusiasm, agreeing to a date within the first hour of conversation with him. One of his buddies mentioned Dylan had been cheated on by his most recent girlfriend, and Maya was floored. If any girl was lucky enough to have him, how could they even think of cheating?

As Dylan rode home in the backseat of his friend’s truck, drunk on her undivided attention and, well, plain ol’ drunk, something his dad had said came to mind. “I can’t explain it, I just had to know her. In every sense of the word.”

He felt the same way about Maya. Everything about her drew him in. Her smell, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the shine of her red hair. God, she was fucking beautiful.

As he smelled bacon on the way down the stairs, he decided to grab a piece on his way out to his first date with Maya, jitters galore. You asking him about the date was kind, but still too weird for him to gush about the gorgeous girl from the bar he met when that ‘gorgeous girl’ was once you.

Love you, his dad said. The word struck him, it occurred to him he doesn’t truly understand how much you and his father cared for one another. The L word didn’t come easily to Munson men, after all. Dylan walked to his car, disgruntled as the interaction rolled over in his mind.

What a mess he would be bringing her home to, if he ever got lucky enough.

Since you worked the next day, you had to go home for the night. The lingering kisses at Eddie’s door were too much to bear.

Too much for Eddie, too. You get a text about twenty minutes after you get home, Need you.

You grit your teeth, you need him, too. Working four days in a row sounds manageable, at least it usually does. Without Eddie to come home to or to wake up with, it’s nearly torture. You ignore Skylar’s comment of codependency. Fuck co-dependency, it isn’t that you depend on him too much, you just need him too much. You need to come home to him, to sit and watch tv with him… It’s the domestic bliss you miss.

Somehow, just reading a book at the end of the night without his even breaths has you on edge. You shoot him a text letting him know you’d be there soon.

As you walk through the doorway of Eddie’s house, he welcomes you and you hop into his arms, inhaling his shampoo as soon as you get close enough to, his familiar scent bringing you an indescribable feeling of safety. “Need you to stop leaving for so long.” He mutters, feeling nearly crazy for missing you so much while you were gone.

You hum in response, staring into his pretty eyes as they stare down at you lovingly, resting your chin on his chest.

“Move in with me.” It’s impulsive.

You blink, unable to register what he just said. “Uh, what?”

He chuckles, hoping the stunned look on your face is a good thing. “It’s stupid for you to keep moving back and forth between here and your apartment all the time. Move in with me.”

It’s a tempting offer. Could you do it? Realistically, could you bring your things in, set up your skin care routine in his bathroom, have a horde of snacks at your disposal, bring Bethany over for sleepovers…is it possible? He watches as you think it through, and his heart skips a beat as he watches it falter. “I-I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

His head tilts curiously, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“I’m still tied to my lease for another three months.” You can’t abandon Sky, not after all this time. “Skylar would be pissed if I just up and left her to either scramble for a new roommate or for a new apartment.”

Was that it? “Oh,” Eddie says, relieved. “I can pay that.”

His answer momentarily stuns you, and a gorgeous laugh escapes his lips as he takes in your slack jaw and wide eyes. “W-what?”

He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Sweetheart. I’m not gonna wait another ninety days when I can just pay it now and get you here tomorrow.”

“You’ll pay my half?” You ask, eyebrows raised, a light smile on your face.

“What’s your rent?”

“1800 for the apartment, we both pay 900 plus utilities.”

He does the quick math. “Oh, so 54 (hundred) to buy the lease out? Yeah, I’ll pay it. Might relieve Sky from being pissed at me for stealing her roommate.”

The casualty of his words drench your underwear, his urge to take care of you sending a heat to your center you can’t explain. You lean in, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, showing your appreciation. “Can-can we go upstairs?” You ask him, out of breath.

Eddie smiles, taking in your lust-blown eyes and slack expression. “You know that’s not why I offered, right?”

The overwhelming happiness bubbles up from the inside and you shoot a wide smile up at him, chin resting on his chest again. “I know. Still, baby. Want you. Please,”

Eddie smirks, framing your face with his thumbs lightly. “When you say it so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

You tug him by the hand and start running up the stairs. A yelp echoes through the house as Eddie grabs at your ass near the top, and when he lies down on the bed, you can’t get his cock down your throat fast enough.

To say the least, Sky couldn’t find it in her to be angry. She was going to miss you, more than she could describe as her roommate. She also had a three month warning to find a new roommate or a new apartment and had ample time to put at least some money aside while she didn’t have to pay for rent. She really had nothing to complain about. Still, she was gonna miss you.

As soon as the lust of him offering to take care of you died down, you went into overdrive, remembering how stressed you were when you had to move in your current apartment, a lease you’ve renewed twice now. You started making a list of things you needed, working between your phone and a random spiral notebook you found in a junk drawer. How many boxes did you need to get? If you used both Eddie and Dylan’s trucks how many hours would it take to move down the stairs-only building you had?

“What’re you working on?” You hear his voice over your shoulder.

“Oh, just working out the kinks of moving. My car won’t be enough, I’ll need your guys’ trucks to help. I also have my own furniture to worry about. The entertainment center is hers, but the couch is mine. My dresser, my bed, my bathroom shelf, all my bathroom junk—”

“Baby.” He interrupts you, a hand sliding up to your neck. “Relax. I can hire someone to take care of all of this for you. Just focus on packing your things and directing the men around on where to put them.” He places his hands delicately beneath your chin. “Ok?”

Fuck, you might just blow him again.

“Ok.”

And you did just that. You shared your list to Eddie’s phone, who called a smaller moving truck with three men to assist, hired an organizer to assist in organizing what you do or don’t need and who will handle selling your furniture, and finally, paying the rest of your rent to your front office without blinking an eye to get you out of the lease.

Soon, you were on the driveway on a hot day, watching as all the boxes containing your clothes, shoes, makeup, and other junk went up the stairs to Eddie’s (and now your) bedroom, a few staying downstairs.

He stands next to you in a white muscle shirt with a band you don’t know pictured on the front and some sweats, hands on his hips as he watches the movers go back and forth between the house and the truck. He radiates authority, each mover couldn’t be much older or younger than you, but they all look to him with respect, all of their words followed by the word ‘sir’.

“Sir, huh?” You ask, teasing him.

Eddie slightly grimaces, rejecting it. “Yeah, they insisted.”

“Dunno, kinda suits you.” You tease, and you walk back to the house, missing the audible gulp that comes from his throat, imagining it. You, on your knees, begging for him, calling him sir…

“Sir?” One of the movers asks, getting his attention. He flicks back, seeing the clipboard held in front of him. “Need you to sign.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He mumbles, picking up the pen to sign.

As he signs his name, Dylan pulls up, taking in the men, the truck, the boxes on the floor visible past the open front door. “She’s moving in?”

Eddie looks at him, apologetic. He had asked you yesterday, and since then, he hasn’t had time to sit down and tell Dylan in person. “Sorry, bud. Kind of just happened all at once.”

Dylan thinks of his new girlfriend’s apartment, the night he had just spent wrapped up in her sheets. “I-I get that.”

Eddie blinks, expecting more of a push-back. “So, dad. I met this girl.” Oh, that explains it. “She’s…” the smile that lands on Dylan’s face is peaceful, and Eddie feels both curious and reassured. “Anyway. I wanted to bring her over for dinner to introduce her. Is that okay?”

A firm hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, bringing him for a hug. “Of course, bud. When did you want to bring her over?”

“Friday at 6?”

It’s Wednesday, so that gives you both ample time to unpack and get the house ready for a dinner guest. “Friday works. Bring her over.”

“Hey, do you guys need any more help with the boxes?” He asks, running into the house.

Eddie doesn’t answer as he stands, stunned at the change in his son over the last, what, week?

The next two days make Dylan realize although he was in a much forgiving mood, he’s going to need to move out and fast. Just when he thought the two of you were bad, he didn’t realize how much worse you’d be when you moved in. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it coming.

Soon, he texted a friend he knew who was looking for another apartment about maybe moving in together after realizing your moans were not coming from your bedroom as he grabbed his keys and booked it for the front door.

You were on Eddie’s laundry room floor, wrapped in his arms, with only your shirt around your torso and his hair halfway out of its ponytail. You were still in the middle of recovering; Eddie edged you twice before finally letting you finish. “Did you hear the front door close?” Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he does.

“N-no.” You gasp, moving your head up to face him, his chest hair tickling your chin. “Were we that loud?”

Eddie laughs, letting a thumb pet your face lightly. “Have you ever tried to be quiet, sweetheart?”

You shut him up with a kiss, slippery, but filled to the brim with everything you had. “Shut up.”

“I love you.” He mutters as you wrap yourself in his arms, and you whisper it back into his chest. “We do have company coming over, so we should probably finish unpacking.”

You groan lightly, but Eddie takes your hands and forces the two of you onto your feet, your knees lightly buckling. “I have so much stuff! There’s so much left to unpack.”

“Oh, I’m sure unpacking yourself into the second half of the walk-in is so hard, baby. C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Again, Eddie’s house looks humble from the outside, but it was nothing to snark at. As he made more money, he slowly upgraded and renovated instead of just moving into a bigger house. The one upgrade that wasn’t really for him, but a constant reminder of what he lost, was the his-and-hers closet he had made for his ex, something she only enjoyed for six months before leaving him. He was excited to see your dresses, skirts, pants, and underwear in his closet, and especially your smell. Basically, he was excited for your invasion of the house.

You walk over to his–your–room where there are still boxes sitting, waiting to be unpacked. You start unpacking the one labeled dresses/skirts. As you start laying out a pile, separating the skirts you knew you weren’t gonna wear from the ones you would, Eddie sidled up beside you, pulling one you knew looked good on you up from the pile you weren’t gonna wear. “Hey, hey. Why haven’t I seen you in this one?”

You hesitate in your answer, pulling two more dresses out before answering. “Dylan fucked me while I wore that.” You admit, and he drops it immediately. He pulls another one up, hands moving over the silky blue fabric. Damn that one looked great on you. “That one, too.”

He drops it unceremoniously, hands moving to his hips. “Which ones hasn’t he touched you in?”

You put your hands on the much smaller, less appealing pile. “These.”

Eddie sighs, scratching his head. “Alright. We’re going shopping.” He announces, placing the pile of your old ‘rejects’ onto the floor.

“Huh?” You ask him, not sure you heard him correctly.

“Yep. Just leave all the clothes in a pile right there, and on Saturday I’m taking you shopping.”

“Baby, I work Saturday.”

“So call in.”

After Eddie helps you settle in for the next day and a half, you spend a good portion of your Friday in the kitchen, working in tandem to make supper together. You place plates at the dining room table Eddie and Dylan barely used, straighten up the napkins and the utensils when Eddie comes from behind you, and you feel his cock press right up against your ass. You grind back into it, closing your eyes and whimpering.

“Ed, they’ll be here in like,” you let out a sigh, “half an hour.”

He turns you, giving you a dirty kiss and gripping your hips harshly. “Then we better get moving.” He slips your dress up your hips and your underwear down.

“Hmm…take off your pants.”

He slips his cock in, bending you over the table, making you gasp. “Already off, baby.”

Dylan pulls up in his truck, now having to park in the same spot you did in the street since you took over his spot on the driveway. “So, this is my house.”

“For three more weeks?” Maya asks, teasing him.

He lets their hands intertwine, leading her to the door. “I did grow up here.”

“Yet your dad is kicking you out.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“No, not kicking me out…” He drifts off, when Maya’s green eyes silently ask him, he dismisses it. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.” He unlocks the front door, and as soon as it’s open, a very peculiar, very annoying sound is heard echoing in the house.

“Fuck, Ed, oh shit.”

Maya’s eyes go wide, it takes her a second longer to understand what they were listening to than it did for Dylan. Dylan shuts the front door, shoving his hand into his pocket for his phone. He dials his dad right away. “…Hello?” Eddie asks after three rings.

Dylan puts him on speaker. “Dad, wrap it up, we’re here.”

“Shit, sorry. Give us five—” the sound of your giggles interrupts him, “sorry, ten minutes. W-we’ll call you.”

He hangs up.

Maya’s face is the picture-perfect expression of what the fuck. “Dyl, when you said your family dynamic is odd…”

“I meant it. C’mon, let’s go for a walk to the corner store.”

Maya is taken aback, but she easily falls in line as Dylan holds his hand out for her. “Can’t believe the first thing I heard from your dad was that.”

“Darling, I have never meant it more than I have right now.” Dylan assures her, and she can see how much he means it in his brown eyes. “My dad has met my girlfriends in worse situations. Just be glad we didn’t see anything…’cause that was not coming from their bedroom.”

Eventually, you had to go upstairs to find a new dress to wear, Eddie having completely soiled it during your tryst as he phoned Dylan to let them know they were in the clear. Turns out, the two of you had time blindness when it came to one another, because neither of you were even close to done when Dylan had called.

As you climb down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie meets you there in time to open it to face Dylan and his new girlfriend. It was an intriguing feeling, opening the door to Dylan while Eddie’s arm was behind your back. Like a couple welcoming their son home. It was…bizarre to say the least. “Hey, sorry about—”

“It’s fine, dad. Rather not talk about it.” Dylan insists, his arm around a pretty redhead.

“Sure. Come on in.”

They step in, Maya taking a look around at the place as she does. “Maya, this is my dad and his girlfriend, Y/N. Guys, this is Maya.”

You weren’t used to Dylan being suddenly so cool with you and Eddie being together. He’s never out loud said that you were his dad’s girlfriend before without rolling his eyes or gagging. Whatever he had with Maya seemed to bring him some peace.

Thank god, you didn’t know if you could handle more eye rolls from Eddie’s 25-year-old teenage son. “Maya! Nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she accepts graciously.

You remember meeting Eddie as a father to Dylan, and while your thoughts were occupied, whatever you were expecting for Dylan’s dad, it certainly wasn’t Eddie. You could see it clear in her face she wasn’t expecting this metalhead, either.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to Eddie, and Eddie just about loses his mind.

“Ew. Don’t. Call me Eddie. Please.” Eddie gags, the same reaction he had when you addressed him that way when you first met.

“Oh. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, purposefully dressing himself down as a parental figure. You could tell he was poising himself differently for them. Whether it was self consciousness over the last time he met a girlfriend, or making it clear to Dylan he had no plans for a second contender, it did the job.

“Alright, the dining room is this way.” You extend your hand out down the hall, leading the way out of a somewhat awkward situation.

The four of you sit at the table, both men at the heads of the table while you and Maya sit across from one another. Eddie picks up the salad bowl, plating himself quickly and handing it over to you. “So, Dylan. Tell us how you and Maya met.”

They both start the story, eager to share. “Oh, can I tell, Dyl? You always get to.”

“Fine by me.”

Maya giggles softly before facing you and Eddie. “Well, my best friend sort of ditched me to tag along to guys’ night, and I refused to be ditched, so I got myself ready and ended up being fashionably late. When she invited me, I was already done for the night, pajamas and all but I got dressed up out of pure spite.” You chuckle, that’s something Bethany would do. “I got to the club, and suddenly I saw Dylan, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night.” She looks over to him, her eyes soft and her pink lips in a sweet smile. “He just drew me right in. We talked for so long we didn’t even realize it was time for last call.”

“Wow.” You comment, taking the last bowl in rotation from Eddie’s hands, the stir-fry vegetables. “Sounds like you guys have a great connection.” You look at Dylan at the last word, hoping he receives your message.

“Oh, we truly do.” Maya grins, Dylan shooting a wink at her in response.

Eddie grabs your hand under the table, and you hold it, petting at the tough skin and colliding with his rings.

“Our first date was incredible.” Maya mentions off-hand but doesn’t elaborate. If it was anything like your first date with Eddie, you knew better than to pry further. “So Dylan told me how you guys met, tell me about that.”

You and Eddie share a look of surprise at how casually she mentions it. You weren’t expecting her to know yet, in fact you were wondering if Dylan was going to tell her at all. Eddie lets out a chuckle. “A shitshow, let’s just say. When Dylan found us, it just became real messy in here.”

Unfortunately, Eddie missed the continuous waving Dylan was doing across the table to stop, please!

“How would meeting online make things messy?” Maya asks, the story Eddie had just told her and the story Dylan explained not exactly lining up.

“What?” Eddie asks, now unsure himself.

Your hand meets your mouth in understanding, facing Dylan with his head in his own hands. “Baby, I don’t think he told her, yet.”

“Nope.” Dylan musters out, annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Maya asks, watching everyone’s facial expressions one by one.

Dylan sighs, not ready to explain this part. “They didn’t meet online. Remember, my ex? The one who cheated on me?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Of course I remember that bitch.” She says, giving you a look that says, ‘am I right’.

Dylan sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Uh, Maya?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s her.” He says, pointing to you. “She cheated with my dad.”

Maya looks at you, dumbfounded, as you wave with a tight smile on your face. Being called that cheating bitch behind your back was certainly a new development from him. Not the…greatest feeling in the world. She looks to Eddie, who isn’t smiling, somewhat insulted on your behalf, but gives a friendly wave nonetheless.

“O-oh.”

“I said my family dynamic is different, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant with how young she is…”

“There’s that…and there’s this. It used to hurt me a lot more, but honestly, since I met you, I don’t really feel that pain anymore.” He says to her. “I wish we could’ve had this conversation in private, but I guess I didn’t warn them.” A new hardness reaches Maya’s eyes as she looks at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by it. “Don’t be mad at them, because I’m not anymore. Well, mostly anyway. My dad said when he met her that he had to know everything about her or he was going to lose his mind.” You look to Eddie, and he winks at you slyly as you mouth the words I love you to him. “I used to think that was bullshit… But when I met you, Maya, I felt the same way, and I realized I couldn’t blame them for pursuing it if it was half as strong as what I felt when I saw you.”

The ice in Maya’s stare all melts the gloss in her eyes. “That’s still super messed up.”

“One hundred percent.” Dylan looks over to you and Eddie, and you’re wondering if the two of you were supposed to leave the table and give them privacy. “But now…they look good together. They’re good for one another. She puts this smile on his face that I never get to see anymore, and she seems more happy with him than she ever was with me.”

Your phone buzzes in your chair under your thigh. A text from Eddie. For the record, no one feels as strongly for anyone as I do for you. No one ever will.

You look at him and he nods once, his lips in a firm line. Your hands reach for his, interlocking with his. “Maya, I know you didn’t mean to but I would appreciate you not calling her a bitch.” Eddie tells her, parent voice on. “Now that we have all that out of the way, Maya, tell us what you do for work.”

Maya was a peach, and she seemed great for Dylan. As she helped clear the table she asked Dylan a question and it led to him announcing he was moving out. Out loud, Eddie gave him a proud hug, telling him it was a great idea.

To you, Eddie pumped his fist in celebration. As you washed the dishes that night, insisting Dylan and Maya go enjoy a movie on the couch, Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “When Dylan finally moves out, I’m fucking you on every surface in this house. I might just tell you to stay naked for easier access.” He leaves a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re left to imagine the possibilities as he adjusts himself while clearing the rest of the table.

True to his word, as Saturday dawns, Eddie wakes you up two hours before you start work and tosses your phone to call in sick for it. You text your manager at his request, and as soon as you hit send, Eddie sends you to his bathroom to get ready for a shopping day. In your first outfit, a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, Eddie looks up and down at you exasperated and tells you to go get all dressed up and put some makeup on.

When your hands land on your hips at this he backtracks hard. “Of course you can wear what you want, baby! I just know that you love to get all dressed up, and I thought it would be fun for you. That’s all. We’re going to be trying on lots of clothes and I want my girl feeling her best.”

Okay, he has a point. An hour passes by, Eddie moving around you as he gets dressed up himself, less dramatic than his date night outfit, but dressed up all the same. As you finish, a wing on your eye, he comes behind you, looking over your shoulder for something. “You know I used to wear eyeliner all the time?”

“I…no?” You stutter, turning to face him.

“Might put some on today.” He mutters, slightly teasing you.

“If you don’t want to scare the general public, maybe we’ll save it for a date night, Ed.” You yank the pencil away from him, terrified that if you look away for one second, he’ll go overboard.

“Not even a little on my water line?” He asks, and you suddenly realize that yes, he does want some makeup for the day.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug.

Now you walk hand in hand in the largest mall in town, starting the journey down the large aisle, leading Eddie. But eventually, Eddie ends up leading you, knowing exactly which stores he wants to go to. In the first store he takes you to, you look around the racks timidly, putting away anything you see over 20 bucks. In less than five minutes, Eddie comes by with a pile of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna get a dressing room started, ok?” He pauses, noticing the 45 dollar dress you just put back. “Ooh, can you hand me that?”

“No, it’s too much.” You insist, looking at the large pile of clothes he has. You thought he meant like, three or four items at the most.

“I didn’t ask how much it was, sweetheart. Hand it over.” He tells you, to which you do. Only five minutes later, as you have only picked out two or three more dresses yourself, does he swing by and tug you to the biggest dressing room, the walls decorated with clothing.

“I-I’m not trying all of this on, am I?” You look around, it would take you at least an hour, and that’s if you hurried.

“Yep. And you’re showing me every piece.” He says, before closing the door on your stunned face.

“Eddie, this is way too much.”

“No complaining, just show me the first one!” he yells to you, no real bark behind his command.

The first dress you wear was a bit revealing, an open back, up to your thighs with a cowl neckline that shows cleavage. He smiles at you, leaning his elbows onto his knees in the seat offered in the dressing room. “Nice… Do a spin.” You roll your eyes, spinning for him slowly and timidly. He whistles lowly. “Man, I’m good. Next!”

He asked for a spin in everything you modeled for him until he didn’t need to, you did it for him. With each new piece, you were learning to not care if you were in a store with him, posing for him as he assessed each piece. Some you thought looked decent on you, he put in the no pile, while others you thought were a sure no, he put in the yes. He told you ultimately, it was your decision and if you felt uncomfortable, you could put one in the no pile, but he knew your body better than anyone. If he insisted it looked good, it must’ve looked good.

At the last piece you put on, he can’t seem to decide, asking an attendant for her opinion. She says she thinks the shirt looks amazing on you but isn’t sure about the style of pants. “Yeah, I chose them just to see if you’d wear it.” You shook your head no, feeling uncomfortable in the business type pants. “Cool. Get dressed in your clothes, we have more stores to hit up.” You toss the shirt to him after yanking it off, and by the time you make your way to the register, the attendant is already handing over two oversized bags to him.

“Eddie, this is enough clothes, I really don’t need anymore!” You insist as he directs you to a store only three spaces over.

As soon as you walk in, they see the big bags Eddie’s carrying and immediately offer their assistance. Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing he only ever gets the star treatment if he’s walking around with the occasional designer bag. (He likes their underwear). “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the women’s side of our closet is huge, and you didn’t have nearly enough clothes to fill it anyway.”

Our closet. You’re so fixated on the use of the word our that you don’t realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “Doesn’t mean I need more.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it means!” He turns to the employee who’s been following him around and hands her the bags. “Be a dear and hold on to these, will ya?” He turns back to you, resting one hand on the rack beside him and staring down at you intensely. “Baby. I want to spoil you. Let me. Please! Pick out some clothes you want, I’ll pick some out, too, and you can try them on.”

“You’ve spoiled me so much already!” You insist, gulping at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re all I could ever ask for.”

“That’s exactly why I have to spoil you.” He retorts, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you. Let me show you how much. I have a stupid amount in savings. I kind of want to chuck some out just to keep me humble.”

You giggle at this, finally, fully giving in to his madness.

Madness, it is. As you go from store to store, he gets about two more bags full from each one, and you’re sure some of these outfits will never see the light of day after you see how he looks at you in them. About ten percent will just be something you put on for about two seconds before he takes it off you. He’s buying dresses he knows he’ll be the only person to ever take them off or see you in them.

At one point, he runs back to his truck to put the eight bags he got tired of carrying around away, coming back to meet you in the store he left you in. It wasn’t much of a clothing store, but you had a basket of things you were planning to buy for yourself. Earrings, a knick knack for your desk, a cute notebook and the like. (There was a shirt you found for Eddie that you got just for the hell of it.) You're waiting in line, and you’re digging through your purse for your wallet when Eddie comes behind you, wallet out, card in the machine. “I—”

“Baby. Your money is useless today. Let me.”

You roll your eyes, and the cashier’s wide eyes at his pet-name for you catches your eye, a laugh escaping you. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I forgot to mention my boyfriend is also in his 40s.” You giggle, having just gushed about how Eddie was spoiling you to him.

“What? 40s? I’m clearly in my 20s.” Eddie asks, acting offended.

The poor cashier looks genuinely frightened, holding up his hands in surrender. “He’s joking. He is. Likes to make people squirm.”

“Oh I love to make you squirm—”

“Eddie!” You berate him, yanking him out of the store as he lets out a bout of laughter. He catches his breath, still laughing as you cross your arms, waiting impatiently for him to stop.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you made it too easy! C’mon, two more stores, then we can grab food.”

“Can I pay for food?” You ask, holding his hand.

Eddie smiles, petting your hand with his thumb. “Of course.”

The second to last store he brings you to is an underwear store. Eddie lets you do all the picking, following closely behind and offering any commentary when you ask for it. For once, he doesn’t insist that you model for him, claiming that just seeing you go through the lacier drawers of panties was torture enough. You walk out with a wardrobe’s worth of new underwear, bras, and a little bit of lingerie. It was the first time you were there to see the total, your eyes widening as Eddie takes out his card.

He smirks at your stunned expression. “Oh, this isn’t even the highest bill, sweetheart.” The transaction goes through and the kind lady behind the desks offers the bags to him. “This isn’t even half of it.”

The bill was at about 700 dollars, so the very idea drove you insane that he had already collected every receipt and refused to let you see them.

He brings you to one last store, wall to wall, covered in clothes. He goes a little ham this time, and you notice he focuses on basics. Sweatpants, sweaters, shorts, and under shirts. There’s one thing he chooses that has you struggling to get the zipper up, and eventually you call out for him for help after a good five minutes of fumbling .

He opens the curtain delicately so as to not reveal anything, and you look at him helplessly as your hand can’t reach the zipper sitting low on your ass. His fingers are light to the touch, as one hand rests on your shoulder, one on the zipper as it goes up to your neck, your hair held by your hands. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you as your hair curtains down around your neck, and you turn to face him, holding your hands out to silently ask him what he thought.

What does he think? He thinks that this fucking dress looks so good on you that it would be a crime to get you to start trying on those shorts and sweaters. Hell, you knew your size, you were probably good to go. It was much less revealing than any dress you tried on, a number he’ll probably get you to wear on your next date. He couldn’t help himself, surrounded by the privacy of the small room, he leans in to kiss you sweetly, one hand going up to frame your neck. “Baby.” He mutters, his voice sounding desperate. “You look…fucking gorgeous.”

You smile into it, your hand tracing the seam of his shirt along his torso. “Thanks. Help me out of it? I still need to try on all these clothes.”

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, surprising you. A slight whimper escapes you as he backs you into the wall against a few clothing articles hanging there. “I will absolutely help you out of this dress.” He says, his voice husky and a touch of arousal lands in your underwear as you realize why. “But then I’m going to get my cock in you.”

“In-in here?” You ask, highly aware you’re in a public space.

“Mmhmm. Be quiet and no one will suspect a thing.” he says, hand slipping under the skirt of the dress to start palming at your folds over your panties. You whimper at the touch into his mouth, focusing all your energy on not alerting the kind sales lady that you were hooking up in her dressing room. “Oh, good girl, keeping herself quiet.”

“It’s…it’s hard.” You whimper, the light touches over your panties not enough, but still causing more arousal.

“So am I.” Eddie chuckles, watching your face as he teases you. He slips the hand into your panties, letting them drop on the floor. “Oh, so wet, huh?” He asks you, eyebrows furrowed as he plays with the slick on your folds.

“Mmhmm.”

“Does daddy buying all the pretty clothes make you all hot, baby?” He asks, voice in your ear and fingers rubbing at your clit gentle, but enough to start you to your destination. You nod your head, because on some level, this was a big turn on for you. “Oh, you horny little slut.”

“Good girl…” You whimper, and Eddie leans back from your shoulder. “Good girl. Please?” You ask him, the slut shaming wasn’t doing it for you.

“Oh, you wanna be called a good girl, huh? Daddy’s good girl?” You nod, your eyes closing as he starts to rub at your clit faster.

“Feels…feels good, Daddy…”

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum, and since you’re a good girl you’re not gonna make a fucking sound. Okay?” You nod, holding a whimper in your throat from the finger he slides into your heat. “Oh she’s close.” He mutters to himself, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Fall apart on my fingers so I can fuck you, my good girl.”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, an orgasm shaking through you as you wither against the dressing room wall.

“Oh, that’s my good girl, such a good listener. Now, turn around and hold on to those hooks.” You do as he says, and as you brace yourself with your hands awkwardly against the hooks decorated with hangers, he zips the dress off you, lifting it over your head and nearly forgetting to muffle his own moan when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He lets his pants fall around his calves, and as his cock pushes you, you let your jaw open and eyes close, doing everything you could not to moan out loud.

He slowly bucks into you, and you close your eyes and lean against the wall headfirst while the scent of store clothes invades your senses. Soon, Eddie leans forward, forcing your torso up against his back as he places his ringed hand around you like a necklace. He kisses at the skin he can reach sweetly, eyes open as he watches your reaction to everything he does to you.

While the prospect of being caught by someone was hot, Eddie found himself watching for your visual reactions than listening for your audible ones. Hmm. He didn’t realize he had begun to rely on them. “How’s Daddy’s cock?”

“G-good.” You whisper, leaning into his chest with your head back against his shoulder.

“Gonna cum in you.” He mutters. He starts fucking into you a little harder, and it has to be perfectly timed because if he went all the way in, the sound of his balls against your pussy would be a dead giveaway.

“How’s everything in there?”

“Speak.” Eddie commands you, and you have to tear yourself from outer space for a moment.

“Great, thank you!”

“Just a reminder we try not to encourage two people in one dressing room.”

“She was just needing help with a zipper. Almost done.” Eddie pipes out, sounding relatively normal for someone seconds away from cumming.

“If you need any help or sizes, let us know.”

“Thanks…” Shit, that sounded out of breath.

“Cum in me.” You whisper, and Eddie does just that, slowly fucking his way through his orgasm, his cheeks flushed, shirt clinging onto the sweat.

You nearly protest as he takes himself out and tucks himself back into his pants. At this point, you were so turned on you kind of wanted to blow him while you had him in the room. You hold his face in your hands and connect your foreheads. “Is it bad I still want more?” You mutter under your breath.

Eddie swears softly, his boner fighting harshly against his slacks. “Fuck. No, I do, too.” He tugs your naked self into his arms, kissing your hair softly. “But…she was suspicious. Unless we want to get kicked out, we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Can I blow you when we get home?” You ask him, turning to grab your own clothes off the floor.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the clothes scattered around the dressing room. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It took multiple trips from Eddie’s truck to bring in all the bags. You truly didn’t realize how many pieces of clothing he had bought you until you saw it all scattered on the closet floor, all ready to be reorganized. Eddie starts hanging them, and you notice the outline of his cock in his slacks. He was still throbbing.

“Can I?” You ask, sitting pretty on your knees and looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m never gonna say no to that.” Eddie answers, placing a hand under your chin.

You undo his pants, giving him a hungry look as his cock springs free. “You’re still hard?” You ask, knowing you’ve gotten food at the food court and walked around the mall a bit more before coming home.

“Mmhm.” You smile, jerking him lazily as you eye the length hungrily. You have the idea to tease him more, but the need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue is too much. Eddie swears loudly as you take him in your mouth, gripping onto the center console for accessories and underwear. “Fuck”

You slowly bob your head up and down, staring up at him through your eyelashes as you relax your throat and allow your nose to meet his stomach. His hands skim through your hair, moving your head lightly, and again, you find it ridiculously easy to submit to him.

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet, head thrown back in bliss as he feels the spit gather at his base. His stomach starts to tighten up a little bit and under your hands, his thighs are tense. Somehow it spells out to you he’s close.

You prepare yourself, moving your head faster on your own accord, opening your eyes at him again to watch for his reaction as you double down. A goddamn whimper escapes his throat as you continue, and suddenly it’s your goddamn mission to make him make that sound again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck…” Without any warning, the warm salty taste of his cum hits your tongue and you moan around him as he rides through his orgasm.

For once, as you wipe your mouth, you can tell he’s the one that needs recovery. You move to your feet, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Need some water?” You ask him, somewhat joking.

“The fuck was that?” He asks, his face in awe as he looks at you.

You give a cheeky and quick little kiss to the hand on your cheek. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Jesus Christ—” he tugs you into a hug, habitually kissing your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Uh Ed.” You push lightly on his chest to get out of the hug, giving him a look of disbelief. You look gesture around the closet to the half of the clothes still not put away. “How are you the lucky one?”

Eddie’s face breaks into a wide smile, his dimples prominent, his smile lines deep. “You keep thinking that, darling.” He laughs, tugging you back into his arms.

As you stand there against his chest, relaxing into him with your eyes closed, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. You put away my clothes since you know where everything goes.”

“I did design this closet.” He retorts, pointing a finger at you.

You walk down the stairs to the front door, seeing a tall figure facing away through the smart glass. You open the door to a gorgeous set of brown locks, perfectly coiffed. The figure turns around, and clearly doesn’t expect to see you standing there. “Hey, Ed- whoa.” You recognize his face, but you aren’t sure where from. You subtly fix your hair; suddenly aware you had just given head to your boyfriend. “Uh, sorry, little lady. Is Eddie here?”

“He’s upstairs in the closet. Can I help you?”

The stranger smiles kindly, and you notice the freckles on his face are like constellations. “Oh sorry! I told him I’d be coming through town, but I forgot to say when. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

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justmeinadaze · 8 months

Text

We're a Family Part 20 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Dad Steddie X Mom Fem Reader, SMUT, slight role-play, dirty talk, FLUFF, this little family loves each other and Steddie love being dads <3, AGNST, while trick of treating they run into someone they know, Dylan has feelings and so does the reader.

Word Count: 4325

“Dada. Da da.”, James cooed as his little hands lightly tap on Steve’s face.

You smile from your place on the floor as you continue doing Aurora’s hair. Tonight was his first Halloween and he seemed very excited for a baby who had no idea it was even an holiday. To be fair, he could have just been amused at his father’s attire who was currently dressed like Indiana Jones.

“Yes, sir. I’m dada. Now, let dada finish getting your costume on.”

“How are we doing in here?”, Eddie asked as he sauntered in dressed as Slash followed by Dylan in his Newt Scamander costume.

“Mommy’s almost done wit my hair.”, Ro announces.

“And this little troublemaker is finally ready.”, Steve exhales as he lifts James from the bed to display him in his little bat costume complete with little ears at the top.

“Aw. I should have gone as Ozzy this year!”, the metalhead playfully sighs.

“You are not biting my son’s head off.”, you scold.

“Jesus, sweetheart. Scared the hell out of me. I didn’t see you there. I thought there was actually a witch in our house.”

“A ha ha, Eddie Munson. Alright, my love. You’re ready.”

Aurora turns around to show everyone her Princess Leia costume from the new show her and Steve had been watching on Disney plus.

“You look beautiful, honey.”

“Yeah and you’re a pain in the butt like her to.” She scrunches her nose as she hits Eddie’s hip with her little fist.

“Ok, my hat is downstairs. Once we grab that we will be ready!”

***

“Dad, if…if James is still a baby…why does he get candy?”, Ro asks as the six of you head to the next house.

“Because you and your father are eating all the snacks we buy so any chance we can get for free food we take.”

His answer makes you cackle as Eddie sticks out his tongue at his husband. While heading up the stone steps of another home, you’re all blocked by a familiar face that gave you pause.

“Oh, wow, um, hey Y/N.”

“Hi Vivian.” Your eyes quickly scan her over before landing on the smiling toddler in her arms dressed like a lion making you smile as well. “Who is this?”

“This is my son, Brody. Can you say hi? Say hi, baby.” He answers with a tiny roar that makes you laugh and James clap his hands. She beams at everyone before he eyes finally land on Dylan. “Oh my god. Dylan? Look…look how big you’ve gotten. Can I—”

She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug.

“We’ll, uh, take them up to get candy.”, Steve nodded as Eddie lifted Aurora in his arms.

Your eyes meet your eldest’s and you asked the question he was too afraid to ask.

“How’s Charlie been doing? Is he with you two?”

“Oh, um, Charlie and I…we’re separated. I…I didn’t…he told me about signing over his rights and that just broke my heart. Things never got better after that.”, she whispered. “I caught him coming home late smelling like perfume…karma I deserved I guess.”

“Vivian, I—”

“No. No reason to apologize or…anything like that. I should have known, ya know?” Standing up straighter, she reaches out to hug Dylan again. “I still live in the same place if ever you want to come over and talk or hang out with this pain in the butt. Of course, if it’s ok with your mom and your dads.”

You son nods as she gives him one final smile and passes you both to head to the next house.

“Are you okay?”, you ask as he watches her leave.

“Yeah. I feel bad for Brody. Maybe…maybe he’ll get lucky to get an Eddie and Steve of his own one day.”

As if on cue, both men come back and Ro runs up to Dylan handing him a candy bar.

“I got this for you!”, she announces as he grins down at her.

##############

You softly smile from your spot on the couch as you watch the kids (and Eddie) dump all their candy out on the floor and begin sifting through it.

“Ah, ah, little man.”, Steve scolds as he quickly scoops up the baby. “No candy for you yet till you get some teeth.”

“Mama!” Your smile grows as your son reaches for you and his father swishes him around in a circle like he’s flying till he lands in your arms. “Ma ma ma ma.”

“Go ahead. Suck up to her but she won’t give you candy either.”

James rubs his eyes before falling against your shoulder.

“Oh, oh wait, my love. Let me get you bottle before you pass out.” As you stand and head for the kitchen, two set of eyes follow you worriedly as they hear the subtle crack in your voice.

Eddie gets up and cuts you off, preparing the bottle for you as he watches you hug James tighter to your body. Tapping your bicep, he hands you what you need and the baby takes it from you eagerly as his beautiful honey colored iris look up at you with love.

A tear falls down your cheek and the metalhead wipes it away as he pulls your head to his chest.

“I love you.”, you mumble smothered by his shirt.

“I love you to, sweetheart. Do you want me to take him?”

“No but if you could put Princess Leia to sleep—”

“Mommy! I’m not sleepy!”, Aurora whines.

“That’s so weird because it didn’t sound like to me she was asking.”, Eddie teases as he places his top hat on her head and she giggles as it slides over her eyes. Taking the opportunity, he picks her up and throws the toddler over his shoulder as he carries her up to her room.

“I’m going to put this one down to.”, you smile carefully scooting towards his room so your movement don’t wake James as he continues to eat with his eyes closed.

The sound of rustling and Dylan’s voice gives you pause as you linger in the doorway of the baby’s room.

“Do you want any of this candy, dad?”

“Is there anything sour in there?” Your son grins as he tosses something to Steve who thanks him as he tears it open. “Eddie always goes for those first so I imagine they will be gone by tomorrow afternoon.”, he chuckles as his eyes scan over Dylan.

“Are you alright, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m just thinking…”

“About?”

“Brody, Vivian’s son.”

“Your brother?” The boy’s eyes guiltily look away and you hear Steve pat the space on the couch next to him. “Dylan even though we’re your dad, we get that biologically Charlie was also your father. He helped create you and Brody. Just because you don’t think of him that way anymore doesn’t mean that that little boy isn’t a part of your family. Just like Ro and James, he’s a part of you and if you want him and even Vivi in your life, that’s ok. We all would have to talk about it but I’m sure Eddie and Y/N would be fine with it.”

“And you?”

“Yeah of course.”

“You always seemed so upset before…”

“Not at you though, kid. I hope you know that. I just…love you. I always have; since I met you and got to know you. Even before you started calling me dad. I hated seeing you get hurt.”, he sighs. “But remember what we said, no matter what you’re our son to even if you miss him or decide you want to see him again—”

“I don’t think Charlie ever wants to see me again. I don’t want Brody to feel that. I want to be there for him like you guys were with me and mom.”

Steve wraps his arm around the young boy’s shoulders and yanks him to his side.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you to, Dylan.”

Footsteps echo from the stairs as Eddie enters the living room.

“Aw! Are we hugging?” The metalhead falls beside his son and dramatically pulls them both into an awkward embrace that has Dylan laughing. “Oh, this is nice. Steven, Princess Leia wants you to read her a story.”

“Of course she does.” The man rises to his feet and playfully pushes Eddie’s arm as he places his Indiana Jones hat on his head.

“Everything ok? Do you need me to read you a story to?”

“Not tonight no.”, he giggles. “Do you think Brody would like D & D?”

“Oh my god.”, the man sighs as he theatrically grabs his chest. “The fact that MY child wants to spread the wisdom that is Dungeons and Dragons to the younger generation just…ah…it makes my heart melt.”

“Wow, you are such a nerd.”, you jest as you head to put the now empty bottle in the sink after finally putting James in his crib.

“Takes one to know one, babe. Yeah, man. I think he will. Maybe you can start off by reading him some of those campaign books since he’s too little right now to actually play.”

“Cool. So…”, he lowers his voice so only his father would hear. “…you would be ok with me, maybe, spending time with Vivian’s son?”

“Dude…”, Eddie responds in an equally low register. “As long as your happy, I don’t care. You know we need to all talk about it but…”, the man lowers his voice even more as he points to his son’s chest. “I agree with Steve. Just like our other two demons, Brody is a part of you. If you want to spend time with them, that’s ok. I’ll still love you, weirdo. Alright?”

Dylan hugs him again and you smile from your place in the kitchen as you watch Eddie squeeze him tighter as he kisses the top of his head.

“I love you to, dad.”

***

“Alright, everyone except for the teenager is asleep but he’s in his room.”, Steve announces as he tosses you your favorite candy before shutting the bedroom door and climbing on to the mattress sitting across from you and Eddie. “What’s running through your mind, baby.”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, so you just normally cry when you give our son a bottle?”

“He’s just so cute. I can’t help it.” They both sigh at your deflection and your head hangs slightly. “I saw myself in her…when she was holding her son. I was thrust back to when I first moved into those apartments and how alone I felt. Before we started spending time together, of course.”

“I can understand that. Y/N, its ok for you to empathize with her even with your past history. It’s not like you two are going to become best friends or something.”

“I know… it’s… ugh you two are going to tease me!”, you laugh as you fall into Eddie’s chest beside you.

“Probably especially if it’s cute.”, he laughs. “But why don’t you tell us anyway.”

“After she left, Dylan told me he hopes that Vivian and Brody find an Eddie and Steve like we did. Hearing him say that reminded me of how heartbroken he was even before when Charlie and I were still married. James and Aurora even as babies have always been so bright and expressive. I never saw Dylan light up that way until he knocked on your door. I’m just really grateful you’re mine.”

When you started to cry, Steve laid beside you as both boys hugged you tightly to them.

##########

When you came home from work the follow afternoon, the house was eerily quiet. Steve had texted you saying your sister wanted to spend some time with the kids so she offered to pick them up but you didn’t realize she was taking them out entirely.

As you placed your bag on the countertop, you noticed a folded piece of paper next to a pair of your blue jean shorts and tank top.

“Y/N,

The kids are with Kierra for tonight so the ‘apartment’ is ours. Put these clothes on out here and knock on the bedroom door when you’re ready.

-Your neighbors Eddie and Steve”

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to decipher their note. Apartment, your neighbors…even the clothes they laid out, you realized, were similar to the ones you were wearing the first time you three were together.

What could they be up to?

After doing what they asked, you slowly shuffled towards the bedroom door and cautiously knocked.

A few moments later it swung open and your jaw dropped as your eyes drunk in Steve who was currently dressed in jeans, a polo, and his Family Video vest complete with name tag and everything.

“Hey there neighbor. Took you long enough. I guess it all worked out though. I just got off myself.”

“Yes because staking videos is a lengthy task. Hey sweetheart.”, Eddie beamed as you scanned him over. His jeans hung low on his hips as his bare chest displayed his tattoos. He looked exactly like he did when Dylan knocked on their door minus the new ink over the years on his ribs of all three of the kid’s names.

“I…I…what’s going on?”

“We thought you could use a break, remember? That’s why we got little man and the other heathens a sitter and invited you over to our place.”

Steve gestured into the room and as you walked in you noticed the pizza on the bed with the beer on the end table. There was music playing on Eddie’s phone and beside it that little black lunch box that you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“I made sure to keep the music down.”, the metalhead winked.

“What do you think?”, Steve asked as they both looked at you eagerly with anticipation.

“I think…”, you smile as you jump on to the bed and open the food container. “…I’m going to tell my kids you called them heathens. My daughter is going to pitch a fit.”

***

It had been so long since you saw this side of them, the carefree relaxed guys. Steve was always in protective mode making sure everything got done and everyone was where they should be where Eddie was always making sure everyone was happy and comfortable.

The three of you passed the joint Eddie rolled amongst yourselves as you laid your head on his lap and Steve did the same with your tummy while you absently ran your fingers through his hair.

“How are you feeling, honey? Better?”

“Much.”, you giggle. “I wasn’t exactly sad. I just had a lot of feelings. I’m a mom. It happens.”

“Hm. It’s ok to feel them, ya know? And, of course, you can talk to us about anything.”

“I remember, after he met you, Dylan told everyone about our new neighbors and ‘they like loud music.’”, you mimic his voice making them chuckle. “I was so happy just to hear him giggle and be excited but I was terrified of him getting his hopes up to have them broken again. Then you two came over and made us both laugh…” You feel yourself drift into the memory, shaking your head as you bring yourself back to your current moment.

“To bad we’re only neighbors and not living together.”, you over exaggeratedly sigh as you continue with their charade. “Can you imagine?!”

“I can.”, Steve cooed. “The first time I shook your hand I knew I’d never let you go.”

“Same. I told Harrington when I listened to your ex be a dick to you on those steps, I wanted to drive down there and beat his ass. I immediately felt protective over you and Dylan.”

“I have a question. More than anything I need my memory refreshed because this weed I guess is making me forget.”, you smile as you feel your body getting antsy as they continue to talk. “Have we been intimate yet or is this our first time?”

There’s something specific in this roleplay you’re trying to lead them to. Both men especially Steve were a bit more intimidating when you first entered their apartment. It had been so long since you felt that energy from them mostly because you got comfortable with them pretty early on.

“Oh, sweetheart. If we had fucked you already, you’d remember.”

Steve felt your breathing stutter at Eddie’s comment causing his cock to press almost painfully against the denim of his jeans. Rolling onto his knees, he hovers over you as his palm caresses your cheek.

“What do you think, honey? Do you think we should go easy on you?”

Craning your neck, you crash your lips to his, passionately kissing him with everything you had.

“Not this time.”, you whisper making Steve practically growl as he kisses you again, manhandling you till your head was resting on the pillows allowing Eddie the freedom to slide down and suck on your neck.

You whimpered softly as their hands roamed your body, lifting off your shirt and tossing it to the floor. The metalhead’s tongue drifted down the valley of your breasts, groaning as it found its way to your nipple as he flicked and sucked the sensitive skin while Steve glided down between your legs, pressing his lips along your thighs.

Your mouth fell open as his long tongue licked a long stripe up your folds while his fingers held you open completely on display for him.

“Fuck, baby. You taste so fucking good.”

Eddie’s lips found your own and he groaned as your own tongue caressed his. Moaning, you tilted your head away from him slightly as Steve devoured your pussy.

“Fuck that feels—”

“Feels good, sweetheart?”

You eagerly nod as the man wraps his mouth around your clit, sucking and flicking the nub noisily making you clench at the sound.

“Eddie? D-Did—mmm—Did you want him then to?”

The metalhead understood what you were asking as his finger ran gently moved your hair out of the way.

“Baby, this is about you.”, he whispers.

“Do you think I would h-have stopped you two that night if you had kissed him? If he had sucked your cock or even—fuck—fucked you in front of me?”

Your eyes roll back and flutter closed as Eddie heavily exhales against your lips.

“Yes, I wanted him then. I wanted him since the day I met him.” Threading his palm into Steve’s hair behind his head, he presses his face further into your cunt, and your head lulls back. “Now I have you both. I remember watching him pound into you on that sofa. Got me hard all over again. You both were so beautiful.”

Your back arched as you came, shouting Steve’s name, and thankful it was just you three in the house.

Climbing up your body, he reached out and roughly yanked Eddie’s lips to his; both men groaning at the taste of you.

“I wanted you to.”, he murmured. “I didn’t know how…or what to say…” Steve sighs in pleasure when he feels you lean up and softly kiss the skin along his stomach. “I love you both so fucking much.”

Unbuttoning his pants, you yank them down enough to free his cock and eagerly wrap your mouth around him. As he groans, Eddie helps him remove his shirt before climbing off his bed to undo his own jeans.

“Fuck, honey, that feels amazing.”

Grabbing your ankles, you giggle as Eddie brings you lower down the bed so your back was flat on the mattress. Steve chuckles at his earnestness, adjusting his body so both his knees were beside you as he guided his length back into your awaiting mouth.

The man watches with his hooded eyes, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as Eddie takes hold of your hips and glides his cock easily into your dripping core.

“Shit. She’s so wet. You really got her going, Steve.”

He blushes at his husband’s compliment making you smile as you look up at him.

“You like when Eddie says nice things about you?”, you tease. Tenderly petting your head, he beams as he nods. “Oh, Eddie. Steve likes being praised.”

“W-Who doesn’t, pretty girl?”

The metalhead crawls forward on his hands slightly, making sure your legs are circled tightly around him as he turns to look at Steve.

“Aw, sweetheart. You like when I compliment you? Telling you how much of a good boy you are?” Eddie’s plush lips kiss along his stomach and Steve whimpers when he feels you take him to the back of your throat. “Because you are… making Y/N cum hard with your tongue. Making her all nice and tight for me. E-Even now—mmm—every time she gags on your thick cock she clenches around mine.”

Both men thrust into you at a faster pace and you moan as you watch their lips mingle together.

Steve abruptly pulls back, chuckling to himself as he gets to his feet.

“Sorry. You both are going to make me cum and I want to cum inside you, Y/N.”

Eddie’s eyes roll back as he falls fully top of you, you two clinging to each other as his hips smack into yours. Whimpering his name, you and he cum at the same time, his pants warming your ear as you run your fingers through his hair.

Still holding you to him, the metalhead rolls onto his back and shifts his body further down the mattress.

“Come here, princess.”

You let him maneuver you till you were straddling his face with your back facing the headboard. Steve already seemed to know what to do as he climbed up behind you, taking hold of your waist as you leaned your chest against the other man’s stomach.

“Goddamn it.”, he mewled as his cock slid into your cunt.

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Focus on you and him, okay? I got you.”, Eddie purred before his lips attached to your swollen clit.

“Fuck me.”

“He’s right. You’re so fucking wet and warm, Y/N. Fuck.”

Both men groaned as you rolled your hips, grinding on Eddie’s face as you pushed back against Steve. The man behind you grabbed your shoulder and brought you up to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed and sucked on your neck.

“Yes. Just like that, Steve.”

“Like that? This what you need, honey?”

As he slammed into you harder, Eddie’s tongue flicked faster against your nub driving you wild as your moans once again turned to screams.

Your body trembled as you came, all energy leaving your body as you started to fall forward.

“I gotcha’, baby. You did so good.”, Steve praised gently as he held you to him.

His jaw went slack as his rhythm stuttered and after a few more thrusts painted your walls with his release. As you began to cry, Eddie moved out from under you as the other boy pulled himself out of your sore cunt and both of them guided you gently to the pillows as they held you.

“Are these good tears or bad tears?”, Steve asked making you smile.

“G-G-Good tears. You both just felt so good. I love you so much.”

“You both know I’m not good with words but thank you.”, Steve whispers as he runs his thumb under your eyes. “Because of you…this is our life. I know you went through a lot with your douchebag ex but we have you now and each other.”, he gestures towards Eddie.

“And you gave us those three weirdos. It’s still so surreal that these little things are calling us dad. But it was the same when we met you. ‘Damn, this beautiful woman is calling us boyfriend and telling us she loves us.’ Now I can’t picture my life without any of you.”

Tilting towards him, you kiss Eddie before turning around to do the same with Steve.

############

“Oh, hey Y/N. What’s going on?”, Vivian inquires with wide confused eyes.

“Dylan wanted to come hang out with you and Brody if that’s ok.”

“Yeah, oh my god. Of course, he’s watching tv.” She gestures inside and he hugs her before heading that way.

“I’m ok with this…we all are. As long as Charlie isn’t here to. Dylan still doesn’t want to talk to him at the moment.”

“No. I completely understand. I promise you, he’s safe with me.” When her eyes meet yours you know she’s telling the truth. “Thank you guys. I missed him so much. I tell Brody about his brother all the time.”

You nod as you turn to away from her to head back to the van.

“You alright?”, Eddie asks as he brushes some hair behind your ear.

“Why would mommy not be okay? Wha you do, daddy!?”

“Oh my god, nothing. I wasn’t asking you.”, he jokes. “Now hush or I’m going to eat all you’re candy when we get home.”

“Don’t worry, honey. I won’t let him.” Aurora smiles when Steve winks at her.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Thank you. I’m glad the whole gang came with me.”

James claps as he giggles and points towards you in the front seat.

“We’re an intimidating bunch, sweetheart. We can kick butt if we need to. Right, princess?”

“Yeah!”, she grins as she waves her hand pretending to use the force.

“We need to teach James to kick ass to.”

“Eddie!”, you and Steve shout at the same time making the man cackle as Ro covers her mouth at the curse word, giggling just like Dylan had all those years ago.

“I guess it’s time to bring out the swear jar again, huh baby?”, Steve purposes as he reaches around to rub your shoulders.

“Oh good. I make enough money now, I can swear all the time.”

###########

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @nailbatanddungeon

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@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

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#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction

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marc-spectorr · 2 years

Text

lessons in touch // part 1

ˣ pairing: steven grant x reader

ˣ summary: an inexperienced steven turns to you, his best friend, for advice ahead of a date. you happily agree to give him a few pointers, including a quick guide on how to kiss. but what starts out as an innocent favor ends up unearthing feelings that steven has buried for so long, complicating things more as his lessons in touch with you unexpectedly continue.

ˣ warnings: 5.8k wc. mentions of sex. fluff/angst.

ˣ a/n: this is my first full-length fic in forever so pls be gentle with me here ;-; this will be a series with smut in later chapters, though i cant promise frequent updates lolol. still, i hope you enjoy!

- ☾-

Steven is having an exceptional morning.

He’d surprisingly woken up fully rested, had enough time to pour himself a bowl of cereal for breakfast, and caught the 8:30 bus to work without much hassle. There was even a seat available for Steven once he boarded. However, he ended up letting an elderly woman sit there after she hopped on at the next stop.

His good deed was rewarded when she handed him a piece of his favorite toffee. Although accepting candy from strangers isn’t always the best thing to do, he appreciated the lovely gesture anyhow.

It didn’t halt there, though. Much to his delight, Steven was informed that Donna would be gone for the next several days. Something about coming down with a very nasty cold over the weekend. Sure, he’s decent enough to wish his infuriating manager to get better soon. Still, her absence means that he could work in utter peace in the meantime, which is a rarity in itself.

For now, there would be no snarky remarks. No threats to shove him into a sarcophagus. No, “Stevie, stop annoying the customers and start selling to them,” or “Stevie, you bumbling idiot, why can’t you do your job right?”

God, he really hated that name. Stevie. What was so difficult for Donna to call him by his actual name?

But besides the point, everything was going splendidly well. It wasn’t too busy at the museum on this cloudy Monday. There wasn’t much to do aside from checking out at the register and tidying up the merchandise displayed ever so often.

At one point, a little boy approached Steven as he rearranged the Tawaret plushies in a neat, organized pyramid shape. The child had shown quite an interest in them, and Steven had been more than happy to introduce the stuffed toy of the hippo goddess to him.

Steven loved this unofficial part of his job, sharing tidbits of history to those willing to listen, young or old. He believes that he’d be a fantastic tour guide; he’s more than qualified for it. Perhaps one day, it’ll happen.

Perhaps, perhaps.

Noon arrives in a blink of an eye, and Steven steps out of the gift shop area in time for his lunch break. He heads to the break room on the second floor with a pep in each step. Smiling and greeting each person that he comes across, not minding if they choose to ignore him. He was in a great mood, enthusiastic and eager more than usual. Today is turning out to be such an easy shift on what’s already a wonderful day.

Not to mention how excited Steven is for the dinner he has with Dylan later that evening. She’s a total sweetheart, one of the few genuinely nice people he works with. Every time Dylan was around, she’d often stop by to say hi to him, even if she was rushing to get her tour started. He doesn’t recall the very moment he asked her out; his memory is a little spotty as of late, but did it really matter? Steven was finally going on a date after what seemed like forever, and he was planning on making it as perfect as it could be.

Rounding the corner to where the employee lounge is, Steven’s ears suddenly perk up upon catching his name through the slightly ajar door. Instantly, he recognizes one of the voices coming from inside— Dylan’s.

A part of him didn’t want to stand there and eavesdrop, but it piqued his curiosity. So he loiters in the hallway, listening to the muffled conversation in the other room.

“A date? With Steven? Steven Grant from the gift shop? Him?” The other woman chatting with Dylan asked almost incredulously. Steven is certain that it’s Leslie, a seasoned tour guide who he isn’t particularly fond of, considering how frequently she talks about people behind their back. And he is her latest topic of conversation, as it would appear.

“Yeah,” he overhears Dylan’s reply, and there’s a softness to her voice. One that made Steven’s heartbeat flutter. “He asked me out to dinner a couple of days ago, and I always thought he was cute, so I said yes.”

A demeaning chuckle erupts from Leslie, and Steven rolls his eyes. “Huh, good luck with him, I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steven shifts closer to the entrance, careful to remain unseen by pressing himself against the wall.

“Oh, you know. Steven is… how should I say this— he just strikes me as the inexperienced type, if you get what I’m trying to say.”

Inexperienced? Hearing that causes him to stiffen, his stomach twisting into a tight knot. It’s like a punch to the gut, a sensation he couldn’t easily shake off.

“Really?” There’s a mixture of disbelief in Dylan’s tone. “I mean, I don’t think that should be an issue.”

“Maybe, but come on, Dylan. Shall I go through your history of exes and recount to you the one common thread between them all, which was how they made your sex life more thrilling? As a friend, I’m only giving you a heads up. Because to me, Steven Grant has probably never even kissed a soul in his life, much less slept with one.”

The last bit stings the most. It isn’t true that Steven was a virgin or had yet to have his first kiss. He wasn’t wholly celibate, but it’d been many, many years since anything of that sort had happened.

Certainly, he remembers his first. They say you never forget your firsts, and that was a time in his life that will last in his memories forever, though not for the good reasons as one would expect.

His first kiss with his first girlfriend was understandably nerve-wracking. Awkward and hesitant, but for 20-year-old Steven, it was normal. First kisses were supposed to be that way. Yet from what he can recall, things did not get better for him, unfortunately.

Barely kissing him after that, he’d been pressured by her to have sex. It’s not that Steven didn’t want to, but he wasn’t ready. That it was still too early in their relationship to do so. Not wishing to upset her, however, he reluctantly agreed after her constant badgering.

It was only then did Steven realized the truth: that despite thinking he loved her, she only lusted for him. Took advantage of his vulnerability and robbed him of something special and intimate. He’d never felt so used.

And if that weren’t bad enough, the woman broke up with him soon after he lost his virginity to her. Giving Steven the most unoriginal excuse in the world— “it’s not you, it’s me.”

Deep down, Steven knew it was him. It’s always him. The whole experience and its aftermath have had an effect on him, lasting up to now. Though he yearns to be with someone, to find unconditional love one day, it hasn’t been easy, especially in this day and age when the hook-up culture is prevalent. Lots of people quickly get turned off if you aren’t an expert in bed, and it’s why Steven has felt so deterred from the dating scene, among other reasons that he doesn’t want to touch on just yet.

So when he found out that he had a date with Dylan, he was less fraught about it. Simply because Steven knows her, and she’d always been friendly with him. He thought that his lack of intimate experience in his late thirties wouldn’t matter to her. That she’d be different, that she’d understand and would be okay with it.

Now? Steven isn’t too sure.

And frankly, he’s crestfallen to learn that he has been possibly wrong about her all this time.

Losing his appetite entirely, Steven dejectedly saunters away from the area, tossing the cold sandwich he packed this morning into a nearby rubbish bin. He didn’t wait long enough to hear Dylan’s response. Not that he wanted to, assuming that what she’ll say next would crush his spirits further.

And just like that, his bright and jolly demeanor is washed away by his fears and his insecurities— his thoughts of not being good enough for anyone.

The remainder of his shift goes by uneventfully. Steven’s interactions with the guests have become dry and lackluster. For the first time since clocking in, he was staring at the clock and counting the minutes down until he could punch out.

He’d receive a text from Dylan a half an hour before the museum closed, not even bothering to ask him in person if they’re still on for tonight. To be polite, Steven replies, “yes,” however. Thinking it would be rude to cancel at the last minute.

Still, he already knows that his heart wouldn’t be fully into it.

Just one dinner, and don’t expect more, he convinces himself as he closes up shop for the night. He tells himself again as he boards the bus back home. Once more as he stands there in the middle of the packed bus, holding onto a handgrip while staring at the darkening horizon passing by. Steven says it a final time as he gets off at the stop across his flat, pushing past the sea of passersby crowding the street until he finally reaches the front door.

It’s quiet the moment he steps inside the building, the door shutting behind him with a soft click. Steven lingers by the entryway for some time; glassy eyes slide shut with his head knocked back against the metal frame as he lets out a long exhale from his nostrils.

“Bad day, I take it?”

Steven slowly blinks his eyes open, and it’s as if the ache in his chest swiftly settles at the sound of your voice. He allows a small smile to flicker on his face when he spots you standing by the mailboxes with several letters in hand and balancing a package on your hip.

Truth be told, you never fail to make him smile. That’s why you’re his favorite person in the world, followed by his mother and Gus, of course.

“Yeah, you can say that,” Steven mumbles lukewarm before striding across the foyer and easing your struggle by carrying the box for you. “Let me get this for you, darling.”

“Thanks, Steven,” you return, your gaze never leaving his. A hand gently closes around Steven’s bicep, then a soft squeeze in reassurance. “Seriously, though. Is everything okay? What happened at work?”

He doesn’t answer your question immediately. Instead, Steven silently strolls to the lift down the hall. He takes his time searching for the right words to explain his predicament. Not that he’s afraid of sharing details so personal— not when you and he have been close friends since you moved into the studio next door to him.

Best friends, you would call yourselves, as a matter of fact. Two inseparable peas in a pod. Steven could always count on you to have his back; he could tell you any secrets he has buried deep within, and he wouldn’t worry about you betraying his trust.

Steven has never had this— has never had someone like you in his life. A friend, a confidante. Nobody has ever been as kind and caring to Steven as you are. Before he met you, he thought people like you didn’t exist. Or perhaps they do, but he’s one of the very few unlucky ones that don’t get the pleasure of knowing someone with a tender heart similar to yours.

Fate is something Steven’s unsure of whether or not it is real. But if it were, he’d thank the universe and beyond for letting him cross paths with you.

“It’s uh— nothing. No need to worry, love,” he dismisses, offering up a smile in an attempt to persuade you to drop the subject.

Steven starts heading towards the elevator, and you trail closely behind, shaking your head. “Hey, don’t lie to me. I know you, Steven. I know you well enough to know that something’s clearly wrong. I’m not going to let you sulk around and continue having a shitty day. What kind of a friend would I be? So, spill. Please? Pretty please?”

You bat your eyes at him, and he swears you’re doing that on purpose. Steven knows you well enough to know that you could get anything you want from him just by fluttering those beautiful eyes of yours. You have him wrapped around your finger, making it nearly impossible for him to deny you right then and there.

Honestly, he could use some advice from you. Maybe a laugh or two to cheer him up. You’re always so good with that. Too good that it’s almost magical. You always know exactly what to say to make him feel incredibly happy, even after suffering a quote-on-quote, shitty day.

A light ding of the bell and the automatic doors of the lift part open, the two of you shuffling inside wordlessly, and Steven hits the last number that’ll send you both to your shared floor.

On the ride up, that’s when he explains it all. The date with Dylan, the conversation he had overheard in the break room, and the fact that he’s still going out tonight. By the time you got to your flat, he had miserably told you everything, including his lack of experience.

“And, so that’s mainly it. Apologies for boring you with my situation; I must sound like a fool for even bringing this up—”

“Steven,” you interject before he can go on with his rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I-I can’t believe you never told me about this before.”

“You never asked,” Steven shrugs, his gaze falling to the floor below but returning to meet yours when you slip a warm hand into his. “Also, I… I was a bit too embarrassed to admit it if I have to be honest. I never found the right partner, and I didn’t want to go out there to find the first stranger who’s attracted to me and willing to— you know…”

He need not explain any further. Judging by the look of sorrow etched in your features, you quickly caught on to what he meant.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, and Steven’s sure he sees tears forming in the corner of your eyes. It’s not that you pitied him. You truly care for him and learning that his firsts have soured most of the positive feelings attached to physical intimacy shatters your heart.

“Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of, really. I promise you, you’re not the only person in the world who’s not eager to jump into bed with just anyone. Not everyone’s so casual about sex.”

Steven gives you a small wry smile, something that doesn’t reach his eyes.

As opposed to him, you were usually an open book when it comes to sex. He’s not unaware of your escapades. He’s either known about them directly from you or when he awkwardly runs into your one-night stands as they exit from your flat in the early morning hours.

Needless to say, he never judges you for this. You have your needs, just like he has his. The only difference is that you go out and seek a remedy while he takes care of things with his hand, albeit frustratingly.

“Hey, it’s endearing that you prefer to take things slow. God, I wish there were other men like you out there,” you chuckle lightly at the end, briefly cupping his cheek into your palm. “So, are you still going on that date?”

He hums meekly as the warmth of your hand leaves him. “I-I don’t know, should I? I confirmed with Dylan because I felt terrible if I backed out at the last minute.”

“Look, from what you told me, I think Dylan is a sweet lady, and she didn’t say anything bad about you. Plus, you left before she could respond. You don’t know if she agreed with Leslie or not, but my bet is that she didn’t.”

A pause. Steven ponders over it for a moment, mulling the possibility of you being right. In which case, in all the years he has known you, you’re almost always right. It’s pretty scary at times how accurate your intuition could be. Call it a superpower or a sixth sense, but whatever your gut tells you, he would usually believe it too.

“Okay,” Steven eventually nods with a breath, beginning to feel slightly enthused with the dinner this evening. “Maybe I overreacted a bit, yeah?”

“No, you’re good. It’s all good, just a big misunderstanding,” you assure him softly, and it’s all he needs to hear from you. “Alright, let me set my stuff down inside, and I’ll help you get ready for tonight. If I’m not mistaken, this is your first date in quite some time?”

His voice grows quiet once more. “Mmhmm, yep. First date in what— a year, perhaps? I’m not even sure I have fancy enough clothes to wear in an upscale restaurant. I should have thought of that way ahead, damn it.”

“Come on, now. I’m sure we can find something in your closet! How much time do we have?”

Steven glances at the watch hugging his wrist. “We’ve got around an hour and a half.”

“Perfect,” you beam brightly at him. “That’s enough time to make you look absolutely irresistible.”

- ☾-

After two or three laborious attempts, Steven’s neck-tie is still crooked. His blue dress shirt, blazer, and trousers are all wrinkly and smell like mothballs from being stored away for the longest time. The longer he had those clothes on, the more he thought how ridiculous he looked.

It took you and him nearly thirty minutes to go through his entire wardrobe, and this is the best outfit you could put together at a moment’s notice. The reflection in the mirror doesn’t lie, and bloody hell, this is starting to become a disaster. He isn’t even out of the door yet!

Maybe he should cancel now before his appearance is what makes him a fool out of himself.

“Steven? Are you done changing in there?” He hears you checking on him from outside of the bathroom. “Hellooo?”

An amused chortle tumbles out of Steven’s mouth. “Patience is a virtue, darling. But I’m done, coming out now…”

Through his observations, there are merely a handful of things that leave you speechless. One of which is the stars.

He particularly remembers one late night when you came over to his flat, excitingly taking him by the hand and dragging him to the nearest open window from the door.

For what seemed like seconds passing into hours, you both gazed in wondrous awe at the heavenly sight above. Trillions of white sparkling diamonds dot the inky canvas of the London sky. It was beautiful, so beautiful and breathtaking, and not a sound fell from your lips throughout the viewing. You had been too absorbed, too fascinated with the glittering stars, to utter a single word.

That very same awestruck face you made could be compared to how you’re staring at Steven right now, and he feels a gentle warmth spreading over his cheeks. The admiration gleaming in your eyes and the delicate curl of your lips makes his heart soar and his stomach light with butterflies. No one has ever looked at him the way, nothing even remotely close to it.

Steven thinks he heard the slight hitch in your throat, but before he could put a meaning to it, your lips were parting to speak.

“Whew… Dylan’s one lucky gal,” you whistle, flustering him even further. “Here, let me…”

He draws in a sharp intake of air as your nimble fingers straighten his collar and his tie, brows furrowing in deep concentration. Steven hopes you don’t notice how deeply fixated his eyes are on you or how he’s swallowing hard at the proximity of your bodies. You’re standing near enough for him to smell your lingering perfume, light and sweet with a subtle hint of floral notes.

Thoughtlessly, he licks his drying lips and then exhales your name in a soft breath, catching the glimmer in your eyes as your gaze flickers up to his.

Steven’s heart thrums wildly in the cage of his ribs, his mind locked in a daze, unable to think clearly of anything else besides you. Your bright smile, your intoxicating laugh, your gentle touch. The way you sweetly say his name and the way you make him happy without even trying.

How you’re the only person in his life that understands him, treats him like he’s worth every bit of kindness you’ve shown.

You, it’s always been you. From the moment you said “hello” to him and introduced yourself with the warmest of smiles, it has always been you.

You, the only one he has ever loved since the first woman who’d broken his heart— and the only one who has ever loved him back, though not in the way he dreamt of.

Falling for you, falling in love with you, is the one thing Steven has never told you before. The sole secret that may never get to see the light of day. Despite how close the two of you have grown, you’d never shown interest in him beyond friendship. Your love for him is strictly platonic, or at least, that’s what he’s led to believe.

Also, it’s not like Steven has any chance with you. He’s seen the men you’ve dated, the type you’re attracted to, and he’s nothing like them. Far from it, in actuality. He’s no match for them; you’re simply way out of his league.

So Steven didn’t dare to risk it— this perfect relationship you and he already have with each other.

He didn’t dare to risk losing you.

Therefore, he pushes these feelings aside, locks them away in the furthest depths of his mind, and pretends that they never existed, that he never entertained the thought.

Yet, it doesn’t mean it hurts less for Steven, seeing you in the arms of others, smiling in a way that makes his heart pang with disappointment. It’s a blissful agony, this pain that comes more often than it goes, and all he could do was bear the gnawing at his soul, hoping that he wouldn’t crack.

“You okay, Steven?” your honeyed voice lures him out of musings, and he stutters out a breath when you smooth your hands over his blazer.

“Y-Yeah,” he murmurs feebly. “I’m okay, just… nervous, I think. Haven’t gone on a date in a while, and I’m afraid I’ll screw things up.”

It isn’t a total lie that Steven tells you, but rather half the truth. Yes, he’s a little anxious about tonight, but most of his jitteriness is because of all these sudden thoughts he has of you. It’s as if your touch alone has brought back the sensations he has suppressed over the years. He tries to push them to the back of his head, ignoring how his heart is longing for you and only you.

It’s easier said than done.

“No, don’t say that. You’re not going to mess this up. Wanna know how I’m sure of that?” For a beat, you step aside to wet your hands at the sink behind him, returning to stand in front of him soon after to style his unruly dark curls. “Because you’re you, Steven. You’re the sweetest, smartest, and kindest man I’ve ever met. I don’t doubt for even a second that you’ll charm the hell out of Dylan so much; she’s going to want a second date right after tonight.”

Grinning, you slowly urge Steven to turn around so he can look at himself in the mirror. “That guy right there? He’s one of a kind. Every man and woman on this planet would be begging to have a chance with him, and I really hope you can see that.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he stops himself from asking the question on the tip of his tongue.

What about you? Would you be begging for a chance to be with him too?

“Thank you,” Steven ultimately sighs, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. “I– uh, I truly appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, Steven,” you whisper, kissing him softly on the cheek. “I want you to find happiness and love out there. You deserve it more than anyone.”

He deserves it.

He knows he does.

He craves it more than anything— to be happy and to be loved.

Solely by you.

Steven fidgets with his hands, his gaze drifting to the leather shoes he wears. No, it can’t be you. It won’t be you. No matter how much he wants it to be you, he must fully accept that it would likely never happen.

And to do that, he needs to start here. Right now, as his dinner with Dylan fast approaches.

But there still lies a problem.

“You’re overthinking again,” comes your remark, brows knitting a frown seeing the tension marring his face. “Talk to me, Steven. What’s on your mind?”

“Do you honestly think that me being so… inexperienced is something that she won’t mind at all? I only ask because, well— I’ve never even kissed anyone in almost… hell, I lost count of how long it’s been. Wait— should I kiss her at the end of the night?”

An interval of silence passes by before you reply to his query. “No, I don’t believe she won’t mind that. And to answer your other question, if the moment is right, go for it. But if not, or maybe you’re not comfortable enough, then don’t.”

“But what if it does feel right? What if she expects me to kiss her? I’m a little out of practice here and—”

“Then kiss me.”

Steven’s body freezes up. For a split second, he assumed that he had heard you wrong. That his brain was playing a cruel trick on him, making him hear words that were never actually spoken out loud. Words that he’d imagine leaving your lips one too many times.

But then you ask him once more— this instance slightly firmer yet still soft enough that the request could have been genuinely sincere in his ears.

“Kiss you? Wha— why for, darling?” His voice is trembling as he feigns strict reluctance, silently hoping you don’t take it as an offense.

“You say you’re out of practice, so let’s fix that. We have like what— ten minutes before you have to leave? If it does come down to kissing Dylan at some point tonight, then I want you to be somewhat prepared. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

In any other circumstance, Steven would have kissed you in a heartbeat. If only you gave him a chance.

A real chance, and not this.

It takes Steven every ounce of strength in his body to maintain his composure. He blinks a few times, standing there unmoved like a deer caught in headlights. Then, there’s a hand on his shoulder— your hand— and he notices how there’s suddenly barely any space between you and him.

“Kiss me, and I’ll tell you if there’s anything you need to work on.”

Swallowing thickly, Steven stammers out your name, his face flushing with heat. “No-no, we don’t have to. It’s totally fine, dear. I-I can manage on my own, I think.”

“Oh, come on,” you grouse. “Steven, you trust me, right?”

He nods his head in response.

“Then let me help you with this. Just look at this as a trial run. You kiss me, have a feel for what it’s like again since it’s been so long for you. When it comes time to kiss Dylan, whether that’d be tonight or hopefully on a different day, you won’t get as highly strung about it.”

Time’s ticking, and Steven’s deliberating your suggestion as if it were a life-or-death decision. This isn’t a good idea. How on earth could this quell the storm of feelings he has for you? Kissing you is both everything he ever wanted and the worst thing that could happen at that moment. He’s tempted and afraid simultaneously, and he can’t focus on what his logical self is trying to say.

Do it.

Don’t do it. Are you mad?

Do it, and you won’t have to panic if the opportunity presents itself.

Don’t do it. You’ll end up suffering at the fact that you’ll never get to kiss—

Do it, or it will be your biggest regret and—

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t— do it. Just do it.

Just this once, do it.

“Never mind, it’s okay if you don’t—”

Whatever words you had to say are stolen away from your mouth as Steven claims it with his. Eyes shut tight with his hands clasped on your shoulders, the kiss is slow and hesitant, barely skimming the surface of your lips. His angle as he kisses you is off; his neck is craned in an odd position that a kink begins to form. That, plus he’s quickly running out of air, becoming mildly lightheaded as he forgets one of the most important things there is in kissing— and that is to breathe.

But how could Steven remember how to when he’s kissing you?

“Steven,” you mumble against his lips, and he forcibly pulls himself away.

“Oh, dear god, that was awful for you, wasn’t it? I-I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. Can we please forget—”

“Wait, no, it’s not that, Steven,” you express. “It wasn’t awful. I thought the kiss was nice, actually. Trust me, I’ve had worse kisses than that. Yours isn’t as bad as you think.”

That makes him smile. “I— uh, thank you. You saying that means a lot, really. Kind of reassuring, too. But, erm… what advice could you give me to, umm, be better at it?”

“Well, first thing’s first, I need you to relax a little more. I could feel how tense your body was while we were kissing.”

“Relax more, got it,” Steven agrees, writing a mental note as he steadies his rapidly beating heart. “What else?”

“Hmm… it’s much better if I show you, honestly. May I?”

Your fingers delicately reach for his hand resting on his side as he gives you a “yes” in a hushed tone. Smiling softly, you bring it to your face, pressing his palm against your warm cheek. “Hold me like this, okay?”

“Okay,” Steven sighs, waiting patiently for the following instruction.

“When you’re going in for the kiss, tilt your head a bit… a little more, yup, that’s it. Then, slowly lean in—”

Fluttering his eyes closed, his lips a hair’s breadth from yours now, breaths mingling together as your gentle voice guides him on what to do next.

“This is the part where you let instincts take over. Do whatever feels right. Just relax, and don’t forget to breathe through your nose. I’ll lead, and you follow. If you want to stop, and you can if you have to, then go ahead. Are you ready?”

“Ready,” Steven confirms, voice barely above a whisper.

And he waits. He waits, and he waits until finally, he senses you leaning in to close the tiniest gap, your plush lips pressing against his. Then, Steven’s kissing you again— this time, it’s much sweeter, more tender. More like how he pictured it would be. Your hand holds him by the back of his neck, pulling him in impossibly closer. Your noses brush against each other, and he swears he could feel you smiling into the kiss.

Eventually, your lips start to move against him. Slow at first, as if testing the waters. I’ll lead, and you follow, Steven hears your words echoing from earlier, and he does as he’s told. His lips mold into yours, and he moves in sync with them as much as he can while inhaling softly through the kiss.

Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.

But, oh, how you smell so lovely. So sweet and so divine.

Steven would remain this way forever…

If only he could. If only he wasn’t so afraid.

He commits this all to memory; the softness of your lips, the gentleness of your touch, the small gasps escaping the back of your throat. Things that Steven would probably not experience again with you. Not when any of this isn’t truly real.

But, for now, he allows himself to melt under your touch. Letting every square inch of his body dissolve into yours as he pretends that you’re his, even if it’s only for the shortest time.

Because at least he’ll have this— the idea of what could be.

The idea of the paradise he’d wished for each night.

When you part minutes after, Steven’s out of breath, and so are you. He feels you slipping away from him, and it’s like he’s about to wake up from a dream. But as his eyes blink open, he meets your tender gaze and the smile playing on your slightly swollen lips.

You’re real; this is real. He had just kissed you, over and over again— and it had all happened in reality, not in the confines of his mind.

“H-How was that?” He breaks the calm stillness of the room.

Your smile only grows. “It’s perfect, Steven. That was… perfect.”

“Good,” he murmurs proudly. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”

“As I said before, Dylan’s one lucky gal.”

Dylan. Steven’s heart sinks at the name.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he says, shoulders slumping as he hides the brokenness of his tone. “I… uh. I should better get going now. I was thinking of buying her some flowers and chocolates to surprise her.”

“Smart move, Steven Grant,” you comment, patting him softly on his chest. “She’s going to love that, I’m sure of it.”

The next couple of minutes is almost a blur to Steven. He doesn’t recall saying much as you gave his hair and outfit one last check before he escorted you out of his flat and down to yours. With a kiss on the cheek and a final bid of good luck, you close the door when he starts ambling to the elevator at the end of the hall.

As Steven waits for the lift to arrive, the warmth of your lips remains lingering on his, his entire body still buzzing with electricity.

But now he’s left uncertain whether he regrets kissing you or not. It felt wrong. Something in Steven felt like what he had done was wrong. That he should have never let it happen, that he should have never let it get that far.

You would have understood if he had declined your help, but he didn’t. He didn’t say no, and he kissed you.

To you, that kiss meant nothing.

But to Steven, it meant everything.

Surely, his life can’t get more fucked up than this, right?

- ☾-

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biffhofosho · 10 months

Text

A Shot Through the Heart

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch.

Word Count: 17k (yeah, you read that right >.>)

Pairing: Hyungwon x OC

Trope: Anonymous sex, strangers to lovers

Synopsis: “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton.”

The Vibe: Hopeless romantic OC meets shameless Miami Beach party, sweet and sincere Chae Hyungwon (who’s also a bit of a pathetic loser sometimes, and I love that about him, so that’s here also), probably cringey meet-cute, definitely cringey rom-com title because obvious cheesy rom-com overtones, well-meaning friends who actually have no clue what they’re talking about, body shots, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, instant chemistry, trying (and failing) to keep things casual, unprotected (not-so) anonymous sex (thank you, dramatic irony), far too romantic for what it’s supposed to be, the usual unrealistic rom-com expectations, cute ending because the author is also a hopeless romantic

A/N: Continuing the Wonnie love agenda since no one else wants to do it for me. This was most definitely for me because I’m hyper-obsessive about Hyungwon’s every charming feature and the Unseen promotion as a whole, but I hope you enjoy it, too.

You are here for fun.

As Gwen danced from foot to foot in the raucous line, she repeated the words over and over.

You are here for fun.

With searing clarity, she could hear her roommate Marie as though they were still in the car on their long drive down from New Jersey.

“It’s Miami, okay? You’re not going for a relationship. You are here for fun. Grind up against random hot guys. Make out with a stranger. I love you, but be a little fucking unpredictable for a change. Whatever, just no crushes because, I swear to god, if you even say to me, ‘He’s really sweet, Marie! I could see myself going out with him!’, I will throw up. And if the words ‘boyfriend material’ come out of your mouth, then so help me,I’m leaving your ass in Florida.”

You are here for fun.

She couldn’t even fault her friend for the rant. Gwen formed attachments, real and imagined. Hell, she was about to celebrate her 11th anniversary of fake marriage to Dylan O’Brien even though she hadn’t watched anything with him in it in years. Almost every man she’d ever gone on a date with had been followed with a relationship that left a crater of ruinous magnitude. It drove perennial bachelorette Marie crazy considering she was always the one left behind to rip the empty cookie dough tub from her roommate’s death grip and hazmat the ground zero of all the balled-up tissues.

After the latest of Gwen’s embarrassingly short-lived “sure-thing” relationships blew up spectacularly in her face, her friend had taken her under her wing and planned to show her once and for all “how to put distance between your heart and your lady parts.”

“Let’s have a little fun at men’s expense,” Marie had proposed when she’d flaunted the extravagant hotel deal she’d scored in Gwen’s face.

Now a month later, and here they were, three nights in at a palatial hotel on Miami Beach with a pulsing club in its heart and a raucous party that trickled out onto its grand pool concourse.

Their deal had been a simple one. In exchange for saying “yes” to three bullet points on her roommate’s “good time list,” Marie would pay for the hotel rooms for their bachelorette weekend. The only other stipulation on top of that was absolutely, positively no relationships.

So far, Gwen had passed with flying colors. She’d let a man buy her a drink at the hotel bar, and she’d danced with a few strangers, all without a hint of attachment. The guys were an eclectic mix of hot that had Marie rubbing her hands together and muttering “Taste the rainbow” on ludicrous repeat, but that’s all they were—eye candy. Gwen could compartmentalize that. Her friend’s plan was working. She’d felt beautiful. She’d felt powerful. She’d felt in control of her heart for once. She was ready to conquer one last, more challenging bullet point.

“You’re young, you’re hot, but you’re too damn romantic,” Marie had scolded as she’d helped her friend accessorize before heading down for the night. “Tonight, remember your mantra. You’re here to have fun. You’re not going to invent a backstory for everyone you meet. It’s okay to be a little superficial sometimes.”

“I’m doing pretty good, aren’t I?”

“Killing it, in fact,” the spicy brunette agreed.

“Damnit, I’m still so nervous every time though,” Gwen admitted as Marie had smoothed out her friend’s blonde beachy waves.

“Yeah, I know, babe, which is why I keep urging you to dip your toe instead of deep-ending everything. Contrary to what your Nora Ephron-mutated heart tells you, ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the guys you meet aren’t marriage material for Gwen Goodwin.”

“What about the one who is?”

Marie bent down and kissed her friend’s cheek. “I don’t know, but I promise you this. You didn’t meet him last night, and you’re not going to meet him tonight.”

So it had all led up to this bullet point—a ridiculous line for body shots poolside.

“Come on, you picked the best one on the list! It’s harmless,” Marie had laughed as she escorted her friend into the line. “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton. Now, I'm going to go hit on that guy over there, and, god willing, have his beautiful, obscene mouth on mine for a bit, and you’re going to spin the roulette wheel of hot and put your beautiful, obscene mouth on someone’s sexy stomach. No regrets?”

“No regrets,” Gwen agreed.

“I’ll have my eye on you, babe. If you need me, text me,” she said as she flashed her smartwatch at Gwen.

“Will do.”

“Have fun! Love you!”

“Good luck!”

Gwen watched as Marie zig-zagged through several clusters of partygoers until she reached her target, a rather burly guy with stupendous shoulders accentuated by a compression tee. Gwen couldn’t see the guy’s face, but she could see her friend’s, and it was lit up with a smile the likes of which she had never seen from the girl. She kept her fingers crossed that things would pan out as her friend hoped.

Meanwhile, Gwen turned back to her line where the shot-takers waited alongside the line of human shot glasses. She was at least twenty people back from the table, so there was no way to know with whom she might be paired. There were just as many women in the shot glass line as there were men, all of them attractive at unprecedented levels. She was grateful she was in the line she’d chosen because she didn’t think she could survive someone of their sexiness putting their mouths on her stomach.

That’s when her eyes fell on him, the shot glass with the round face and flushed lips. He was tall and slender, dressed unassumingly for someone in his decidedly sexier line. He wore a plain black tee and a pair of slim fit jeans on legs that seemed double the length of the rest of him. Other than a few silver rings on his spindly fingers, his only accessory was a pair of now-pointless sunglasses sitting on top of his fluffy dark hair. There was nothing flashy about the guy, yet she somehow wished she had a pair of her own sunglasses just to look at him.

His toned arms were stacked loosely over a wide chest that pulled the tee at his shoulders. Pretty as he was, the man didn’t talk to a soul; if he knew any of the people around him, he didn’t let on. Instead, those big, inquisitive eyes busied themselves scanning the party like a prairie dog.

He looked at her suddenly then, and the weight of his attention made Gwen’s ankle give out in her stupid high heels. She wobbled back with a yelp, but, luckily, the girl behind her caught her elbow and helped her regain her balance.

“You all right?” the girl asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gwen mumbled along with an apology and her thanks.

“Walk much?” said some generic bro a few people back in line, and it felt like everyone at the party was looking at her.

Humiliated, Gwen risked a glance over at the shot glass, but he seemed to be the only one who had turned back, though she couldn’t help but think that a proud smile tugged at his lips.

She would give just about anything for her pajamas and a romantic comedy right about now. She contemplated slipping out of line and heading back to her room, but she’d have to clear it with Marie first because she didn’t want to just leave her friend in such a big crowd of strangers, so instead, she stayed the course with plans of making a hasty retreat right after.

As the EDM pulsed across the party deck and the palm trees shimmied overhead in the steady sea breeze, the lines dwindled quicker than she ever expected.

And of course, it was becoming abundantly clear that, short of someone passing out or running off at the last possible second, Gwen was going to be lapping tequila from the navel of the pretty boy with the prettier smile.

When there was just one couple left ahead of them, she thought about offering her spot to the nice girl behind her as a thank you. The ponytailed babe behind the pretty boy sported a crop top and a great set of abs, so technically, it would still be fun for Gwen without the creeping dread, but before she could ask the girl behind her to switch places, she heard the call from the bottle girl.

“Next!”

With a lump in her throat, Gwen approached the table alongside the man in the black shirt. He nodded to the girl behind the table and then to Gwen.

“Hey.”

“H-hey,” she said.

The bottle girl continued all business as she had that night, though she did offer the man a smile she did not offer Gwen.

While she paid for her shot, he climbed onto the bar counter easily and shimmied himself into the most comfortable position the hardwood would allow.

Everyone waited for the hem of his shirt to reveal his stomach, but it didn’t. Instead, he looked to Gwen.

“You want it, you have to do it,” he said with a toothy grin as his eyes flicked to his clothed torso.

Gwen glared at his stomach and then at his face. “Excuse me?”

He laughed and waved in surrender. “I’m kidding, just kidding!”

But it was now patently clear he knew he’d been the reason she’d stumbled, and she wasn’t going to let him halt her momentum.

You are here for fun.

Finally, the attendant grew too annoyed to keep her mouth shut and griped, “If you’re not going to take the shot, I have to—”

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it,” Gwen insisted, though she’d meant it more for her shot glass than her bartender.

With a glower at the long man stretched out before her, she pushed his shoulder back so he flattened out on the table, the grin still playing at his luscious lips finally disappearing with her determination. Her fingers curled around the hem of the t-shirt resting far too near the apex of his thighs, and, slowly, she pushed it up his abdomen. She could have just yanked it up, but she wanted to punish him for his teasing as much as she wanted to savor the reveal, so she let her palm drag across the yielding skin of his stomach.

A swath of flawless flesh appeared beneath her, tensing instinctively along the path her hand had set. Like the rest of his features, it was soft and inviting. He didn’t have washboard abs like many of the men who’d showcased on the table already; instead, she found a narrow waist flaring broader and broader the higher she pushed the shirt up his chest. His freshly tanned skin featured the gentlest dips and smoothest waves of skin she’d ever seen. His navel was delicate, cute even, though she’d never considered a bellybutton particularly cute before. All of it made Gwen’s throat feel far too dry.

The bottle girl didn’t even try to hide the way she chewed her own lip, but she poured a shot of crystalline liquid into the appetizing little divot anyway. Gwen’s shot glass laughed, borderline giggled, at the sensation, sending a slender river of booze cascading over his naked waistline.

“Cold,” he confessed.

“You’re up,” the bottle girl said to Gwen with a bitterness she also didn’t try to hide.

Gwen nodded and stole a quick glance at the man’s face. He’d propped his head on his hands now so he could watch the show and grinned so hard she expected his laugh to follow any second.

Her brow wrinkled. If he was going to play games with her, then she could damn well return the favor. Gwen splayed her hand at the hem of his jeans, her fingers spread between the contrast of silken flesh and harsh denim. She bent over and pressed her bottom lip into the pouch of skin at the edge of his navel and closed her top lip around it to form a seal. She sucked quickly, a little of his skin suctioning between her lips.

The man gasped, and his hand clasped reflexively to the back of her head as she drained the last of the liquor from his navel. The urge to kiss his tummy overwhelmed, but Gwen fought it off, though she couldn’t quite stand up with his hand still in her hair. Instead, she rolled her head to the side and caught his eye. The motion surprised him, and he yanked his hand back.

Gwen stood up and licked every honeyed droplet of booze from her lips. He tried to sit up, too, but distracted by the trail of her tongue, his hand slipped in an errant splash, and he fell back onto his elbows. It was her turn to savor a proud smile.

“One more?” asked Gwen hopefully.

He didn’t hesitate. “Okay, sure.”

“Another shot please,” she said to the bottle girl, thrusting out her card.

“Sure,” said the other woman with a well-practiced smile. “See you shortly.”

“What?”

“You can buy another shot, but you’ve got to hop back in line.”

“But we’re already here?” Gwen noted with a poignant look at the man’s exposed stomach.

“Not how it works, sweetie. See you in a bit. Next!”

With a resigned sigh, Gwen rejoined the crowd. There was only a slim hope of being paired up with the same guy again, but not knowing what else to do, she followed the snaking line to the end only to notice the man was nowhere to be found.

Gwen looked for Marie, but the crowd had swelled as the night had worn on, and she couldn't find her friend anywhere. No doubt, the girl was twirling in some random hot guy’s arms somewhere in the thicket of dancers at the other end of the concourse, but Gwen didn’t really feel like braving all those sweaty bodies.

You are here for fun.

It had been fun, she realized, but it was so short-lived that now that it was over, she also realized how little fun the rest of the night had been in comparison. Rather than spoil Marie’s good time, too, Gwen made her way to a poolside recliner and sat down to people-watch.

There were hundreds of beautiful people here, not that that was a surprise; short of some place like Los Angeles, she wasn’t sure where there was a more concentrated percentage of objective hotness. Everyone rocked a beach-ready body, many still clad in their actual swimsuits, and thanks to the tropical air, they all smelled of a perfume of sunscreen, booze, and sweat. Laughter and cheers crescendoed around her as drinks were downed and the music pumped up. Tiny asses nestled in gyrating groins as limbs snaked up and down strangers’ bodies.

But as much as there was to see, the truth was the one person Gwen wanted to watch was gone.

Another ten minutes or so had passed with her eyes firmly fixed on the body shot lines, but her shot glass never reappeared, and she found herself so painfully far from the “fun” she was supposed to be having that when a new guy sat down beside her and started to chat, she decided to invent a new backstory of her own considering Marie had banned her from inventing them for bachelors she’d met.

“I only found out mid-way through the pregnancy that my cousin was having my fiancé’s baby. So I said ‘screw them all,’ packed my shit, and drove straight down here to start having some of my own fun for once,” proclaimed Gwen with a whip and toss of her hair over her shoulder.

“Heavy,” said the bearded man with a smug, approving nod next to her, and she snickered to herself at the anticipatory predatory flash in his eyes.

But her fun at the stranger’s expense was also short-lived when she heard over her shoulder, “That’s some story.”

Gwen swiveled on her chaise to find the lithe stranger from the body shot line holding a mostly empty bottle of tequila with a spout already stuffed in its neck.

“Oh, hey,” she fumbled. “You’re still here.”

“I am.”

An awkward silenced stretched between them as she scrambled to figure out which version of herself she was supposed to be presenting.

Miraculously, the bearded man saved her at the last second. “Is this your friend?”

“Best friend actually,” said her former shot glass, “here to make sure she has all the fun she wants.”

Knowing his window had closed, the bearded man nodded and faded back into the crowd without so much as a wave goodbye, not that Gwen had room to spare another second for him now that pretty boy had returned.

“Was any of that story true?” her handsome stranger asked.

Gwen shrugged. “The having fun part is true enough. The rest might have been part of said fun.”

He smiled gently, his cheeks two kissable meringues as he added, “Sorry about before.”

“For what?”

His eyes cast down her leggings to her feet. “Is your ankle okay?”

“Oh.” Gwen wrinkled her nose and protested weakly, “Hey, that wasn’t you, you know.”

“No, of course not.”

“It was these stupid heels. I’m more of a sandals girl. I’m just not used to wearing them.”

He nodded though he was clearly suppressing a laugh. “I see. So I’m off the hook?”

Gwen cocked her head in mock consideration as she eyed the bottle in his silver-clad hand. “That depends. How are you going to make up for exposing a very tragic girl after she thought she’d gotten away with it?”

One of those rings clanked emphatically against the glass, ringing even above the club music. “What about offering a second shot like you wanted?”

He waggled the bottle for effect, the liquid inside splintering the pulsing lights.

Gwen squinted at him. “How did you…?”

He brought his finger to his lips and bent down to her ear. Thanks to the blaring music, even this close, he nearly had to shout, “I stole it.”

“What a rebel.”

“Yeah, well, I’m really motivated.”

“Uh, okay, sure. I guess that’s fair.”

“Good, because I’m all about fair. Come on. I’ll find us somewhere where you can take it.”

The innuendo simmered between them until Gwen’s thirst had expanded beyond the restraints of mere drink.

“There’s a lounger right here?” she suggested as she looked at the chaise, but he shook his head.

“That would draw to much attention. I’m a rebel and thief now, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. How could I forget?”

“Maybe we can head out to the beach, or,” the stranger hedged slowly, “I have a room upstairs if you want?”

His tone was matter-of-fact, considerate even, yet sin infused his bottomless brown eyes. It was a proposition Gwen had never considered. She was a fall-in-love not a fall-in-bed kind of girl.

But.

She was not going to fall in love on this trip, and she had never seen a man who looked like this one.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she pretended to mull it over and shrugged a shoulder to sell the act, though there had only ever been one possible outcome the moment her eyes had met his.

“Maybe it’s better if we go upstairs… I mean, we don’t want them to lock you up and throw away the key.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a smile that left little doubt how well he understood everything.

“Let me just make sure my friend is okay with it.”

He nodded, unfazed. “I’ll do the same.”

Both of them pulled out their phones, and Gwen sent a quick message to Marie.

When Gwen put away her phone, she found the man waiting with an expectant, squishy grin on his face.

“Is your friend all good?” he asked.

“All good. What about yours?”

He motioned through the crowd back toward the hotel, and as they walked, he said, “They’re all good. Turns out they all knew already. The friend who helped me distract the bartender told the rest of them anyway, which I should have figured, I guess.”

Gwen perked an eyebrow. “They knew when I didn’t, huh? You’re not just a rebel, but a cocky rebel.”

Her companion laughed and rubbed the back of his head in his chagrin. “Maybe I’m just more of a hopeful rebel. Or a lucky one seeing as I almost lost my chance.”

She laughed now, too. “Who? That guy? No way. I think I was just amusing myself since I was bored.”

“Bored? Here, I half-expected I’d find you back in the body shot line.”

“Well, I whole-hoped I’d find you back in it, too, but since you weren’t there, that poor guy had to hear a story I’m pretty sure I stole from a soap opera.”

Her companion smirked. “I guess that makes you a rebel and a thief, too.”

“I guess so.”

They chatted easily across the busy pool deck and all through the lobby, but the second the elevator doors closed them in alone together, the conversation clotted up. It was a long and mortifyingly unbroken trip to the twenty-second floor, and the only sounds were the shush-shush of the elevator and the dull thunk of the bottle as he tapped it against his thigh.

Suddenly, he cleared his throat. “Uh, kind of embarrassed to admit this, but it occurs to me I don’t know your name. I’m—”

“You know, let’s keep it that way for now, okay?” Gwen interrupted with a tight smile.

“Huh? Oh, sure, sure…” he agreed though he couldn’t have looked more floored.

“It's nothing personal. Actually, that’s sort of the point. I have a tendency to get carried away. It’s a long, boring story, ha. And a lot less colorful than my made-up ones.”

“I'm a good listener.”

“Yeah,” she said solemnly, “I can tell that about you. Which is definitely why I need to keep things firmly in the here and now.”

“Live in the moment, I can get behind that.”

“Cool.” Gwen turned hesitantly to him just as the doors to the elevator split wide. “So, is that okay with you? Because if it’s not, we’ll just toast to this super awkward elevator ride.”

The man motioned for her to go ahead of him into the hallway before he added, “I’m not the kind of guy to turn back.”

I can tell that, too… she thought resignedly.

He led Gwen down the chic hallway to his room, where she stopped short and pulled out her phone.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Just letting my friend know where I am.”

“That's smart,” he said with a nod. “I’m on notice now, huh?”

“You got that right, buddy.”

They shared a laugh, and again, Gwen was struck by how brightly the man’s face glowed and how engaging his laugh was. Another thought popped into her head just then.

“Speaking of...” she started as she raised her camera. “Smile?”

Without a trace of surprise or curiosity, he did, and it was so blinding, it threw off the exposure in her phone, which gave Gwen the perfect excuse to snap a few more.

“How did my mugshot come out?” he asked and craned his neck to steal a peek.

“You’re a matter of public record now, sir. But I imagine it will be the first mugshot to grace the cover of Vogue.”

“Nice.”

She stashed her phone without hitting send, with a small grin for her white lie. For some reason, Gwen couldn't bring herself to share him. But he didn't need to know that.

Meanwhile, the man fished his key card out of his too-tight jean pocket and ushered her inside. He took off his shoes as soon as he walked in, much to her relief, since it meant she could finally get out of her damn heels. When she looked back up, she was at a loss.

“Shit…”

His head whipped toward her, eyebrows pinched with concern. “Everything okay?”

“I mean… Your room is so much nicer than mine.”

He clutched his heart in mock relief before he said, “What’s your room like?”

“Not like this. Small and bayside. You have a balcony!”

“Oh, uh, yeah. It’s my friend’s bachelor party this weekend, so we all kind of went all out, I guess. You want to go out?”

“Hell yeah, I do!” Gwen squealed. She made a bee line past the enormous bed and whisked open the door.

The wind was stiffer twenty-two floors up, and it bombarded her skin, fresh and salty and a little sticky but uplifting. She breathed in deeply, a smile splitting her face. The half-moon shimmied across the Atlantic swells in time with the electronic beats filtering up from the party at the pool below. She couldn’t help herself—she waved at the partygoers even though they were far too small to see much this high up.

“Aw,” her companion said sweetly. “Waving to your friend?”

“Yeah,” replied Gwen with a blush. “Not that she’ll see me.”

He joined her in leaning on the railing and waving at his friends, too. When he looked back up, his smile shifted slightly, less silly and a lot sultrier. She cleared her throat lightly and headed back inside.

With her back to the huge bay windows, Gwen could finally take in the rest of the room. It was modern and cloaked in the same jeweled beach tones of her own, but it was much more spacious, with a desk and a sofa plus a pair of chairs, while, to the left behind a half-wall, the enormous bed stretched out beneath a large padded headboard.

With a tiny yelp, her companion scrambled over in a hurry to straighten the still-crumpled covers and even out the pillows.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he worked, “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like I make my bed on vacation. Or ever really.”

Gwen meant it, but that didn’t mean she could shake the undeniably sexy implication of those tossed sheet or the image of this beautiful man stretched out naked and languid in them.

Still, he dressed the bed as quickly as he could and turned around with a flushed face. Again, he mumbled, “Sorry.”

“No worries. Hey, do you care if I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, it’s right around there,” he replied, gesturing toward the other side of the bed.

It was really just an excuse to see how much fancier it was than her own, and it did not disappoint. Instead of just a shower stall, there was a huge walk-in surrounded by glass, and instantly, images of fogged windows with desperate hand smears flitted across her mind. Just around the corner was a deep jacuzzi tub that conjured just as many filthy thoughts.

This was progress, Gwen thought. Her libido was on overdrive, which meant she could safely put her heart in the backseat. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her waves had regrettably frizzed, and she’d sweated out a fair bit of makeup, but it did make her skin glow, even under the harsh LED lighting. After a quick freshen-up and a primp to make her chest is best perky self, she returned to find the man waiting in front of the main window, adjusting the tuck of his tee in his tiny waistline.

There was just something about him—his every gesture was sweet and sincere, completely without artifice. And just like that, her heart was threatening a comeback.

You are here for fun.

Gwen shuffled in with a short wave. “I think your bathroom might be as big as my hotel room.”

He grinned. “I think it’s bigger than my apartment honestly.”

“You mean you don’t live like a high roller every day?”

“Actually, I moonlight as a broke New Yorker.”

Oh shit, he’s not far from you, Gwennie…

“You’re ruining my fantasy of the millionaire playboy in town for a big business deal.”

“My apologies,” he joked with a bow.

“So, when’s the wedding?”

He cocked his head, and it was painfully cute. “The what?”

“Your friend’s wedding.”

“Oh, next month.”

“And the groom’s not going to be mad that you’ve abandoned him?”

The man smirked. “On the contrary. Pretty sure he’s looking for any excuse to get rid of me.”

“You really are public enemy number one, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, undisputed.”

As they came down from their laughter, Gwen realized how close they were standing. This close, those lips loomed like a full moon, and she basked in their plumpness. The heat between them brought the intoxicating tendrils of his cologne forward, a fresh brightness that matched his smile, though it occurred to her he may have stolen a moment to reapply it while she’d been in the bathroom. The thought made her swallow hard.

“You’re easy to talk to,” he confessed abruptly, and Gwen tensed all over.

You are here for fun.

“Even though we haven’t really talked about anything?” she retorted.

He shrugged one thick shoulder. “Maybe that’s why. I’m kind of a wallflower at parties. I mean, that whole body shot thing was just a dare from my friends anyway.”

“Mine was like that, too!” she blurted and immediately regretted it, the way he seemed to soften all over. It wasn’t just how gentle his already-round features looked, but he relaxed against the desk into a cool lean as his usually petal-shaped eyes widened with interest.

No backstories, Gwennie, she scolded herself. Put that distance between your heart and your lady parts!

“So that’s how it happens, huh?” she continued in a sultrier voice as her finger stroked the neck of the bottle. “You do one dare, and now, you’re a full-blown criminal mastermind?”

His voice had dropped, too, along with his eyelids. “Looks that way.”

“Are you a liar, too?”

“No! What?”

She chuckled and waved the bottle between them. “What about my second shot?”

“Oh, you were serious?”

Gwen gaped at him. “Aren’t you the one who stole the tequila?”

“That was just so I had an excuse to talk to you again.”

Oh no… He was painfully, unforgivably, patently cute. Gwen could practically hear Marie threatening to leave her in Florida.

“Ah,” she said to deflect, “so you did lure me here with empty promises.”

“No! I—"

“I’m teasing,” she assured, and as she studied his saucer eyes, she risked resting a hand on his bicep, which she had to stop herself from just straight up groping when she felt the twitching muscle beneath.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just… I never do stuff like this.”

“Like what? We haven’t done anything.” He looked helplessly at her, and Gwen chuckled again. “Sorry, still teasing. When I'm awkward, I make awkward jokes. I've never done anything like this either.”

“Like what?” he echoed, and they shared a tight smile, but it vanished when he looked at her much softer this time. “Seriously, I don't expect anything.”

You can't catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton…

“I know, but I do.” Gwen swished the bottle back and forth, and he offered what she could only type as a giggle.

“You’re right, you’re right. So, um, how do you want to…?”

He spun in a circle until he nearly made himself dizzy, and she grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

“Maybe, um, you should just lay on the bed?” she suggested.

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. So, I’ll just…”

“Get on the bed?”

“Get on the bed, yeah,” he repeated. The man spared a quick moment to smooth his shirt over his chest and run a hand back through his thick black hair, which had the most fatal way of feathering back across his forehead in a very regrettable heart shape.

Since the moment she’d met him, the man had possessed a magnetism that had set him apart from all the other hot people at the party, but here in his room, he was borderline pathetic, tromping around like a lost giraffe between the living room and the bed as he emptied his pockets between the desk and the bedside table. When, at last, he was ready, he walked to the foot of the bed and plopped down. He looked back at Gwen with a sheepish grin and comically high eyebrows.

“Ready?” she asked as she raised the bottle.

“If you are.”

She nodded and followed into the bedroom, and the air shifted. In here, it was hotter and even more humid than down at the beach but without the benefit of a breeze.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, and Gwen crawled on the bed beside him. She strategized on how to best take her shot, and while she positioned herself, her knees pressed into the mattress as she sat up, he untucked his shirt and raised it himself.

At the party, body shots had been a game. Here, it was foreplay. Judging from the blackness in his eyes, he knew it, too. He laid back and propped up just a bit on his elbows, which cupped his stomach just the right amount into the sweetest little bowl.

“It’s different,” he murmured.

“Yeah, it is,” she whispered, too, because somehow every thing, every word, felt very loud. “I can take my time now.”

He didn’t say anything. He just waited.

Gwen lifted the bottle, and, as carefully as she could, she tipped it until a golden thread puddled at his belly. He didn’t flinch this time. Instead, he sucked in a breath which deepened the cup at his navel, and she was only too happy to fill it to its tasty brim.

“Perfect,” she said as she set the bottle on the floor. “Don’t move.”

She braced her hands on his thigh and his ribcage and bent forward. Her lips glossed the velvety skin there before she opened her mouth and sucked up the sweet, smooth liquor all too quickly. This time, though, she spared a moment to dip her tongue into the divot, and this made the man beneath her hiss.

She licked her lips and ventured a look up his heaving torso to find him totally expressionless save for his overblown pupils.

“Satisfied?” he asked in a voice swollen with the same darkness.

Gwen shook her head lightly. “Still thirsty.”

But she did not reach for the bottle. Instead, she put her lips to his stomach and sampled a new patch of skin. It yielded beneath her, and so did he. He let out a low groan that tightened the muscles under her lips.

Another kiss led to another and then one more as she nipped and nibbled at the tender flesh. There was something about the man that was simply and undeniably edible, and no matter how much she tasted, she could not get enough. Gwen helped herself all the way up to the delicious flare of his rib cage, and at the swell there, she risked a swirl of her tongue. His head snapped up as he panted out a heavy pair of breaths.

“You're driving me crazy,” he said with a slanted smile.

“I could say the same,” she agreed, and when she brought attention back to his stomach, she noticed a lonely freckle at his hip. Her lips raced to devour it, this time adding a graze of her teeth. He jolted.

“That tickles!” he exclaimed though it was followed by another groan.

Gwen responded with another twirl of her tongue to savor the salt on his skin, and the groan became an outright moan. Emboldened by each grateful sound, her hand slid slowly up his thigh, and soon, it bumped a rigid hill smothered by tight denim.

At the first graze, he jolted again but followed it with a simmering hiss as his hips bucked reflexively into her hand. His eagerness was going to Gwen’s head. She wanted more of his pretty moans. She wanted more of his pretty body.

Her hand moved more brazenly to stroke the outline of the intensifying hardness, but this time, she was the one moaning at the way his bulge filled her palm. Her forehead pressed into that gentle stomach as she rested her lips lazily at his hip bone. Meanwhile, her fingertips traveled up the zipper to the waist of his jeans and swept back and forth before her thumb centered over the button there.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

Gwen kissed his hip again before she answered, “You told me if I wanted it, I had to do it.”

“Ah, I said that, didn't I?”

“You did. And I want it.”

He sat up higher now, expectation on his face. He drew his lush bottom lip between his teeth, and that alone set Gwen’s blood aflame.

Without another thought, she placed a garland of kisses along the waist of his jeans, and when she undid the button there, her lips raced to taste the secret skin she’d exposed. Dimly, she realized she was getting too carried away on a chance encounter, but she couldn't stop.

She couldn’t stop.

The further her mouth charted down the open zipper track, the more powerful her desire grew. She smelled his cologne here, too, bright like the tropical air but deepening down to dark woods on a second, greedier inhale. And beneath all that was the smell of him.

Too hungry now, Gwen hooked her hands in his jeans and tugged down. He lifted his hips with zero hesitation, and soon enough, she had full access to all that she desired. She swept her hand over the black fabric still sheltering him and felt him lurch. She hummed.

Slowly, she peeled down the hem of his boxer briefs, and his cock sprung up gratefully. Above her, her pretty boy exhaled hard, which only grew raspier as her skin touched his rawness at last.

Gwen’s romantic heart had drawn her to a number of beds over the years, and she’d enjoyed some decent sex in that time, but even without entering her, she knew this man was special. All his skin had been babied, but here, he was silkiest, like satin over marble. One touch was enough to fuel an addiction that sent a blaring alarm of dread to the back of her mind that she might never touch another cock that felt like it was made just to please her.

She danced her fingertips down his wickedly hard length until she got to his base, where she squeezed appreciatively. He hissed and hummed and arched his back before he mumbled something low and deep that she wished she could make out because just the echo of its echo sounded devastating.

Gwen didn’t intend to take things so leisurely—she knew she shouldn’t be—but it seemed foolish to fast forward through what had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met. Her friend’s rules be damned, she was going to enjoy every second for as long as she could make it last.

He was watching her, open-mouthed, as she held him. Their eyes met. Her breath caught.

Gwen wet her lips and pressed them to his hot, red tip and let her tongue curl into the smooth channel underneath. Her beautiful stranger let out the raspiest groan as his face disappeared from her view to sag under the weight of pleasure.

Spurred on, she invited him into her mouth now, shallow at first, but a little greedier with each pass until she could take what she could of him to the back of her throat. When she was comfortable, she found the perfect rhythm to have him singing for her with every eager suck.

And he was so noisy. It wasn’t filthy words or heaps of degradation like she’d heard plenty of times before. Between his moans and the grunts and the achy sighs, Gwen realized she’d never been with a man who had appreciated her more. It was filling her up with not just pride but confidence, and it made her want to ruin him even further.

His hand came to rest on the back of her head, but she quickly plucked it aside and pressed it into the mattress. For the briefest of moments, she released him to mumble, “Stay still.”

His shaky “okay” made her chest feel swimmy, and, instead, he balled two handfuls of sheets. But the man couldn’t help himself. Though he was hanging onto the bed with white knuckles, his hips took to lifting from the mattress, and she had to force them back down, too. She knew with just a little more speed and the addition of a helpful hand, she would get him off in no time, but she was having so much fun.

It didn’t hurt that all his whining was getting her off, too, even without a single touch. Gwen couldn’t remember a time she’d been so wet or so turned on.

Again, the stranger moaned, but this time, he added with a thick rasp, “You’re incredible. You might be my dream girl.”

It was her turn to whimper, but the vibrations traveled not just through her body and straight to her throbbing clit, but they also traveled down his length in a circuit of pleasure. He sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth as his legs tensed and struggled in the confines of the jeans still cuffing his knees.

“Can I—” he said before another grunt cut him off. “Wait. Can I just—fuck—can we take these pants off? I want to feel more of you.”

Gwen startled. She sat up on the bed and watched, numb with anticipation, as the man practically had to peel off his skinny jeans. He worked as quickly as he could, but it afforded her a flash of an ass as cute and smooth as his stomach and legs as long and delicate as his fingers. When he sat back down at the edge of the bed, he pulled off his shirt, too.

When she came to his room, Gwen hadn’t really known what to expect. It was clear they would end up in bed, but, for some reason, she never expected them to be fully naked. Now that things had taken a much more intimate turn, the casual momentum she had built quickly siphoned away.

This time, he didn’t lay back.

Here, he sat—breathless, naked, gripping his glistening cock, and staring hopefully at her.

“I’d really like to see you, too,” he asked.

As soon as he voiced his throaty wish, a fresh torrent of lust leaked between her pressed thighs. If she had worn the minidress Marie had pitched, there would have been no hiding it.

Gwen wanted to be coy or funny or anything other than tragically eager for this man, but how could she say no to such hopeful eyes and freckled lips?

With a red face and sweaty hands, she slipped out of her shirt, leaving her in her bra and leggings. She’d been wearing the same damn burgundy lace piece for two years, but now her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t undo the last clasp she’d put on hundreds of times.

He smiled knowingly and leaned in to wrap his arms around her. It only took him a moment to rescue her, but in his arms, time had stopped. Skin to skin changed everything. Gwen was spiraling, and the only way to make it stop was to steer into her tailspin.

Their lips met not in a clatter, but gently and with curiosity. Even at first brush, the way his puffy top lip notched into the crease of her lips felt like habit, like it had been there many times before and should return countless more times.

His hands cupped her cheeks briefly before they slid back in tandem to tangle in her disheveled waves. Only then, as he held her fiercely, did his tongue slip into her mouth to their shared whimper. One of his hands glided from her hair, down the back of her neck and over her shoulder, fingertips dancing like raindrops with the same biting chill thanks to the metal at his knuckles. He traced the side of her breast and then its underside all while his lips meshed with hers and his tongue curled deliciously against the roof of her mouth.

Trapped in the riptide of the moment, Gwen reached for him, too. His skin was just as soft at his neck and shoulders as it was at his waist, and she couldn’t stop stroking every inch she could access. He was only too happy to encourage her touches, even going so far to redirect her hand from his ribs to his hair like he wanted her to pet him. She let out a needy sigh that his mouth immediately gobbled up.

It wasn’t a surprise that the man was an attentive kisser. What surprised Gwen was how much she felt in the kiss. He was pouring something into her even as he seemed to drink from her, and she didn’t want it to stop.

She didn’t want it to ever stop.

You are here for fun.

Marie’s voice in the back of Gwen’s head was the ice water the blonde needed to disentangle from her beautiful stranger. Because that was all he was.

A beautiful stranger.

Gwen pulled back. He blinked slowly at her, but she kissed his flushed lips briefly to soften the transition. The hand of hers he’d placed in his hair drifted down his arm to his thigh, and whatever emotion had knitted his brows a moment ago corrupted. With a gnaw of her bottom lip, she slipped off the bed to the floor. His eyes followed.

He didn’t ask Gwen to kneel between his legs, but he didn’t have to. She was getting good at telling exactly what he’d like best—far too good at it.

His thighs were much creamier than the Florida caramel that warmed the rest of him, and as she shuffled into position between them, her hands worked higher and higher up their breadth. His knees tightened at her shoulders. Now that she was shirtless, she had no defense against the zaps of electricity that came with each stolen moment of raw contact.

His cock strained between his hips, the head shiny with lust and the veins pulsing along its length. Gwen gripped his hilt and stroked a few times, and he sighed in relief.

Now that he was sitting up, their dynamic swapped. He loomed over her. Shadows darkened what had always been a bright face. His enormous hands braced at the edge of the bed, firing prominent veins along his forearms. His shoulders corded with heavy muscle previously concealed by his round edges. The planes of his stomach creased as he bent over her. He wasn’t about to neglect even a second of his front row seat.

Gwen brought her lips back to his member and picked right back up where she’d left off, only this time she was noisier. Wet slurps and hungry hums echoed up from between his legs, and with each one, he got a little louder, too.

This time when his massive hand curled around the back of her head, Gwen reveled in it. His nails scratched deliciously against her scalp as he threaded her hair through those elegant fingers and tugged mindlessly. She was grateful she’d forgotten to strip off her leggings or she would have been dripping shamelessly on the carpet.

At last, she picked up speed, so she closed her eyes and concentrated on her seal around his demanding thickness. Her lips chased her fist up and down his shaft so he was never without a moment of her full attention.

The messier she savored him, the more urgent his whines got and the more he bucked underneath her. The hand in her hair was now a fist full of a makeshift ponytail. Mouth full, she raised her eyes to his face. A swirl of her tongue around his tip was all it took to rip a cry from his hunkered chest.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he demanded and pushed her shoulders back. “Wow, okay, you have to stop. I’m going to cum.”

“That’s the idea,” Gwen replied as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

But the man shook his head. “I want to make this last, and I definitely don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You’re not.”

“Good… Good.”

A pregnant silence fell between them. Both of them considered where to direct the needle of their night next, but he was faster.

“You know, the view from up here really is something,” he said.

“Ha ha,” Gwen said drily, but the earnest look on his face knocked her sarcasm down a few pegs.

“Come up and see.”

He offered both his hands, and once she took them, he helped her up to the edge of the bed. When she was seated beside him again, he kissed her sweetly.

When he stopped, his forehead rocked against hers, and her eyes fluttered open.

“I really want to taste you,” he confessed in a whisper.

Gwen swallowed hard.

“You do?”

“Desperately.”

“It’s just—” she fumbled, painfully aware of the panic in her voice.

“You don’t want me to?”

She didn’t know how to explain herself without pitiful embarrassment. Most of the men Gwen had dated were keen for a blowjob but always had a dozen reasons to move things along right after. Over time, it had given her a heavy insecurity, which Marie had always assured her was utter bullshit, yet still it persisted. Gwen didn’t think she could recover from someone this desirable rejecting her, even if he was a total stranger.

“No, I mean, yeah, if you really want,” she blundered, “but… it’s just—”

She bit her lip, and he cocked his head patiently. His hand squeezed her knee, and the words came tumbling out of her mouth.

“I’m kind of a mess down there.”

“Yeah?” he said hopefully—to her complete and utter shock. “Come on, you can’t tease me like that. Now, I have to taste you.”

“What if— It might take me awhile,” she admitted from behind her hands.

Gently, he lowered them from her face to her lap, where he held them like a friend, though his hooded eyes and honeyed voice told a very different story.

“I hope it does.”

Gwen gasped and closed her eyes to steady herself. “What about you?”

He laughed. “This is about me.”

The best she could manage was a slow nod, but that was all the stranger needed.

He dropped to his knees on the floor and spread her legs enough to rub his huge palms up her thighs and back down again. The more he soothed her, the more her legs parted on their own so he could sit taller—and closer—between them. On the next sweep up, his hands lingered at the crest of her thighs so his thumbs could stroke over her swollen sex still imprisoned in her leggings.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“So good,” she replied as she collapsed onto the mattress and threw an arm over her eyes.

“Good. You can watch if you want, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’d recover from something like that. You’re, like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen as it is. That might actually ruin me for life.”

He chuckled, but it was tainted with pride. “Maybe that’s the idea.”

Gwen shot up to her elbows to argue, but that was the exact moment the man wriggled his slender fingers under her waistband and then her underwear to peel them both off. Cold air attacked her core, and though it was a relief to finally be free of her sticky prison, she was unprepared for the pad of his finger to graze over the seam of her lips. She shivered and whined.

He hummed. “You’re really feeding my ego here, sweetheart.”

His thumbs resumed the same stroke as before, but since it was over her bare lips this time, the intensity amplified exponentially. Each wave parted her folds a bit, and there was no escaping the knowledge that her arousal leaked heavily every time.

“What a pretty sight,” he murmured.

Foolishly, Gwen stole a look at the man, and the image of his keen eyes fixed on her wet cunt branded her brain just as she’d feared. She whimpered, zipping her bottom lip between her teeth to near shreds as he played with her.

She felt the first brush of his lips against her not in the careless rush of an obligation but as a leisurely kiss of a seasoned lover. There, his mouth lingered only to part for his purposeful tongue. He licked up along her seam once—twice—and on the third pass, his fingers parted her core wide. The exposure had her keening mindlessly, but when his tongue swiped through the secret skin, she cried at the top of her lungs. Her arm pressed over her eyes hard enough to create starbursts behind her lids while her other arm pressed over her mouth.

For just a moment, he pulled back. Another burst of cool air blasted her core as he hummed again, this time dreamily. “Perfect.”

He kissed the meat of her thigh once, and then drove on heedlessly. He teased her entrance for a moment before he swirled that wicked tongue around her clit with a mind-numbing rhythm. Through all of it, Gwen sank deeper into pleasure. As vocal as he had been, she managed to outdo him even with her makeshift gag. It was completely mortifying but also completely out of her control.

He didn’t try to stop her writhing or her moaning. Instead, he used them both to his advantage. Whenever she squirmed, he chased, and it made the promise of release a near certainty.

It was incredible. It was terrifying.

It shouldn’t be this easy. It had never been this easy before.

Gwen felt the blossom of his lips nibbling at her aching clit, and before she could brace herself, he’d taken her in his mouth. It wasn’t just his delicious suction that made her lungs seize but the way his tongue undulated across her eager bud.

And then he pressed a fingertip to her entrance.

Gwen’s hands flew to the sheets and dug into the mattress. Her head snapped up as she screamed, “Oh my god!”

Her eyes flew open. He was waiting.

Damn heart-shaped hair and damn heavy eyes stole what was left of her sanity right before he eased his finger inside her.

At least the unprecedented bliss gave Gwen the small mercy of forcing her flat to the bed. Her back arched, her nipples tightened, and her voice gave out. The only thing she could do was pant like some unbound creature.

His fingers were so long—world-record long, she thought drunkenly—and they explored parts of her she’d never even known were there. He didn’t race through her either, but primed her the same as she’d primed him, the devil. In only a matter of a few plunges, he knew her in ways she’d never even known herself.

In and out, in and out, he pumped that perilously long finger, each stroke sealed with a kiss of metal and knuckle. Her body hungered louder and messier, worse even than she’d promised him. Her shameless pussy dribbled like it had never been touched before, and Gwen was very, very glad she could hide in the crook of her arm.

And then he added a second finger.

The stretch was vision-whitening, the depth dizzying, but still his tongue insisted on speeding her to her ledge. Even with her face covered, she turned away because looking at him was like risking looking into the sun.

“I’m going to— I’m going to—” she stammered.

His mouth lifted then, but before Gwen could protest, he brought his other fingers to her clit. There, he kept a thorough pace just shy of what she needed. No doubt, he knew it just as she had known it with him, but with the tables turned, it felt unexpectedly cruel.

As if to contradict that, he tenderly kissed her thigh, and basic instinct drove her to look at him.

He smiled at her, and, with grit in his voice, he asked, “You going to cum for me, beautiful?”

“Yes!” cried Gwen, shuddering on his fingers. “Yes, yes, yes!”

His fingers moved faster now, across her throbbing hill as well as inside her. Pressure like she’d never felt built between her hips. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to think.

And it all happened faster than she could ever have imagined.

She unwound.

Eyes winched shut, Gwen tore at the sheets as she arched, every muscle clamped in ecstasy, before everything released and she slumped glassy-eyed onto the mattress. Somewhere below her, she heard a little refrain of happy hums and dimly felt the slick circle of a tongue collecting all that she had released.

She panted as she came down from her high, her arm flung over her face once again, feeling everything and nothing all at once. As she worked to center herself, Gwen shivered.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” said the stranger who was once again idly massaging her thighs, this time with the most delicious domesticity. “You kind of glow when you cum.”

“Oh, shut up!” she wailed as she curled into a ball.

“What? Sorry, but I mean it. You do this cute little thing with your toes, like a kitten paw.”

Gwen heard him pantomiming something in the sheets, but she was too busy cringing into another universe, one where she’d kept at least a little of her dignity. She burrowed her head deeper into her arms to fight back how endearing she found him.

“Hey,” he said with the sincerity of concern. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

“You liked it, right?”

Gwen peeked out through a small window behind her arms and found the man seated beside her on the bed. He looked down at her with eyes no longer blackened exclusively by desire but softened with care. She bit her lip and lifted her head as she held his gaze.

A beat passed before she said, “I loved it.”

“Well then, if that’s the case…” he said softly.

He leaned down and kissed her as lightly as a feather brushing skin. When he pulled back, there was the sweet temptation of darkness tinting his eyes once more.

“Will you let me inside you?”

“Why did you have to say it like that?” whimpered Gwen as she flopped back onto the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he said though he sounded anything but. “Is this better? Please let me fuck you.”

She hissed. “You’re a terrible, terrible man.”

“Yeah, but I’ll make you feel so good, and I did ask nicely.”

“You did…” she murmured as she leaned up.

Their lips barely had time to fully enmesh because he had to help guide her up to the pillows since the only thing she could manage for the moment was a beached fish, half-hearted wiggle.

If Gwen thought she’d have a moment to recover between heated kisses, she was dead wrong. He caged her in beneath him, his heavy cock thudding unmistakably against her mound as his body flattened against hers. Her legs spread instinctively. Perhaps she should have taken the many, many hints that she would never have any control over herself with this man, but the way her body simply opened for him was more than a little pathetic.

At first, she threaded both hands in his hair, and he groaned into her mouth, but every little thing he did made her restless for more. She kept a hand fixed in his hair while the other now squeezed and groped the length of his back. Even if she couldn’t see it at the moment, his shape drove her wild. Not only did his definition heat her hotter than she’d ever felt in her life, but, fully pressed against hers, his skin was as decadent as cashmere.

His member, on the other hand, was as heavy and demanding as a stone on her mound. Every time he rutted against her, the base of his shaft brushing her engorged folds, she lost a little more of her sanity. She could probably cum again just like this, completely empty and yet feeling so fulfilled.

They passed some time in each other’s mouths without further expectation, but the weightier his cock pressed, the more impossible it was to ignore her basest needs. As he’d been able to do all night, he read her easily.

Unwilling to leave her lips, he groped blindly at the nightstand until he’d found what he was looking for and had to break their kiss. He held up a condom, his eyebrows up on his sweet, swollen-lipped face with the unasked question.

“Forget it,” Gwen said with a huff. “We’ve already crossed the line, I’m on the pill, and I really just want to feel you.”

“Oh, shit, are you—” he said, but she cupped his cheeks and kissed him hungrily.

She was being stupid, but the fuck if she cared.

Gwen whimpered with every sweep of his tongue, but those gave way to hitching cries as his long fingers trailed from her cheek down her arm to her hip where they danced in unreadable designs across her flesh. It was so playful, so charming that her heart fluttered to a totally different rhythm than it had all night. And that was dangerous. She needed to move this along at last.

You are here for fun.

Her hips jerked beneath him, tilting up in a kiss far filthier and needier than even their mouths’, and he pulled back with a ragged hiss.

“You are so wet again,” he growled with a glance down between their bodies.

“I can’t help what you’re doing to me.”

He cocked his head to the side, looking handsomer than any man really had a right. “Yeah?”

“Yes…” she sighed. “You make me so desperate.”

She drove her hips up again, her overheated sex grazing his base once more. His eyes flared, and Gwen felt the urge to cower.

Suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pushed it above her head, pinning it there by her wrist.

Dimly, the bass from the music far below drummed through the walls, but it was little more than a backing track to their tattered breath.

His stare was more commanding, more powerful even than the hot-forged iron branding her just shy of her center.

“I—”

Despite how badly Gwen yearned to hear the rest, he let whatever thought it was simmer on the heavily perfumed air enveloping them. His eyes searched her, from his ring-clad hand clasping her wrist to her sweat-studded breasts and back, at last, to her parted mouth.

He dove back down to her lips with another growl while his other hand fumbled between their bodies. After a moment, his hips lifted, and she felt the blunt head of his cock at her entrance at last.

She needed air to calm her ragged nerves, but thief that he was, he stole everything from her with another nibble of her lips. As his tongue entered her mouth again, he pushed his length inside her walls.

Gwen tore from his kiss to unleash the reediest moan of her life.

“Oh fuck,” he grunted. “Did you feel that?”

She had no idea what he meant, which made it all the more dangerous because she knew exactly what she felt.

Everything.

Why did he have to kiss her just then?

Why did he have to fill her like he was the only one who should ever do it again?

You’re idealizing, Gwennie, she scrambled to remind her sex-saturated mind, but she couldn’t convince herself to stop even if she knew she was. This was a man who was every bit as perfect as her stupid romantic self wanted to believe.

All Gwen could do was moan and grasp the back of his head.

He followed the weight of her hand and pressed his face into the juncture of her neck to kiss her reverentially.

“Go slow,” she implored.

He hummed in agreement and eased his hips back to draw his length to its limit before gliding back in as though he were savoring her. The moment he bottomed out, her mouth fell open in a silent wail. Gwen had never felt so full.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Open up for me.”

His voice penetrated as deeply as his cock and rendered her putty in his hands.

Each sweep of his hips was catastrophic, but it was even worse since his body smothered hers. It was too much and not enough all at once, and Gwen was glad she didn’t have use of her other hand or she’d have wrapped him up in her arms already.

She thought after the first few strokes that he’d pick up speed, but he seemed content to while away their night just like this. The only change to his smooth rhythm was the rough emphasis he added to his every thrust that drove the air out of her lungs each time. It was like he was trying to drive deeper and deeper and deeper inside of her.

Each penetration afforded her the sexiest view of the horizon of his body, and now that she was this far gone, she lifted her head so she wouldn't miss another moment. He moved with the grace of water, and the current threatened to drown her just as easily. The swell of his ass rose and fell over the heave of his back.

His whines and grunts came back with a vengeance, with the added mercilessness of being uttered along her skin. It was a devastating reminder that as much pleasure as she drew from him, he was just as greedy for her body, too.

“Need to fuck you harder,” he warned in a voice heavy with gravel. “I need to.”

“I want you to,” Gwen echoed.

If she thought this would be the reason he pulled back from this ridiculous intimacy, she was dead wrong. Instead, he stilled inside her as he lifted to his elbows, but it only brought his searing gaze to her. His enormous hand soared up to cup her cheek. His thumb traced her bottom lip before, at last, he planted his hand firmly on the mattress.

His first few thrusts stayed slow, but soon he gained speed and, with it, power. His hips slapped against hers, and each time, it sounded wetter and wetter, but it all should have been louder.

The difference was, now that they couldn’t tear their eyes away from one another, neither seemed capable of making a sound. It was all Gwen could do to remember to breathe.

Harder and harder, he drove into her until her tits were bouncing and each fuck pushed rhythmic, vibrating cries from her. Still, she could tell they were both holding something back from one another.

They knew the moment they ended, whatever this was had to end, too.

His luscious mouth parted. There were words there, half-formed, but those he held back, too, though she starved to know them.

The next thing Gwen knew, he released her wrist to push her knee up and back. The angle shifted, and she had no choice but to rip her eyes from his to watch as his cock disappeared inside her greedy cunt.

She let out a tattered moan before she hiccupped out, “So. Fucking. Good.”

“I want to be deeper,” he answered back.

Gwen’s eyes rolled back in her head. “You’re—ah—you’re already so deep.”

But he didn’t seem to hear her. He dropped to her chest again, his hips rutting truly desperately at last. He buried his face in her neck and his nose in her hair as his lips glanced across her skin in the unintentional kiss that came with every thrust.

“Deeper…” he murmured as though hypnotized.

“Oh my god!”

He hitched her thigh higher up his side so she could feel with devastating consequence the way his ribs flared with every frantic gulp of air.

“Wrap your leg around me,” he instructed.

Gwen dug her heel into the meat of his back, and he grunted, but it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Hold me tighter, please.”

As she’d feared, it was a mistake the moment she wrapped her arms around him. Strangers fucking didn’t embrace. Yet here she was, clinging on with the last of her sanity to his sturdy shoulder blades.

He smelled so good—like sex and summer—and it imprinted on her mind.

“So. Deep,” she stuttered.

The way he stretched her out clouded her mind until the only thing she could find through the fog was him.

How could he possess her so fully but make her so desperate for more of him?

Him.

“Give me your hand,” he demanded in a rush.

Gwen let one hand fall from his back to the bed, and he grabbed it quickly and pushed it up over her head again, only this time, his fingers threaded through hers and squeezed as tightly as her walls squeezed his shaft.

His thrusts switched to shorter, shallower, much faster now. Each time, his cockhead brushed over a spot inside her that robbed her of all sound and all thought. Just like that, he’d reduced her to nothing but quivering nerves and trembling muscles.

Gwen dug her nails roughly into his back same as she squeezed his hand and let him ride her for all she was worth.

Since his cheek pressed against hers, she heard his every grunt in relentless stereo. He was too needy, too desperate. It was only magnifying those same feelings inside her.

Her skin burned with sweat. Her eyes burned from squeezing them against the overwhelming pleasure. Her core burned from the friction of his perfect fucking.

He was panting in her ear, and she could feel the curl of his lip as he snarled.

Gwen moved her free hand into his hair as she clutched his head to her like a lover.

“Baby,” she cried, “baby, I’m going to cum again.”

He let out the most pitiful whine she’d ever heard in her life as his hips spurred even faster.

“Baby.”

The pull was there, starting at her chest and dragging her down.

Down.

“Give it to me,” he urged, the words nearly broken under the crushing weight of his desperation.

“Baby!”

This time when Gwen said it, it was a strangled little thing, the last breath of a woman before she disappeared beneath the waves.

It was different, cumming with his cock inside her instead of his fingers. Her walls frantically beckoned him to disappear within her, willing him to never leave. She shivered and shook and screamed with the power of a release she’d never thought herself capable.

He fucked her through it all, the smoky curl of his self-satisfied “yes…” unfurling across her skin.

And when at last Gwen had no more aftershocks to give, she laid there too limp to hold on to him at all. Her leg slipped to the bed and her hand from his hair and her fingers slackened in his, though he refused to let her go.

His strokes had grown erratic, each one accompanied by the sloppy sounds of her catastrophic release.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he said hurriedly.

Gwen knew what she wanted—what her body was demanding. She wanted him to fill her up. She wanted this perfectly handsome perfect stranger to cum deep inside her so she should could hold on to a little bit of him even after she walked out the door.

But this was the end—not just of their passionate sex but their time together. If she didn’t put distance between them right now, she was in for an even more terrible fall.

No feelings, just sex.

“My face,” she blurted.

Gwen regretted it instantly. That wasn’t what she wanted at all, and she braced for the humiliation she deserved.

But, instead, he pulled out with a strangled cry and came in the tangle of bed sheets beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he managed between heaves of breath and frantic jerks of his spasming cock. “I’m sorry.”

She watched his broad, glistening back flare as he hid himself from her, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to touch him. Her fingertips slipped in the sheen of sweat there, and his head whipped back toward her.

“I couldn’t do that,” he said dejectedly. “You’re just so pretty, I’m sorry. I know that’s what you wanted, but—”

“I didn’t mean it anyway,” she said. “I don’t know why I said it.”

Something fluttered across his dark features before his brow furrowed, and he turned away again. “Damnit, I should have never listened to my friends.”

Gwen quirked her head even as she covered up with the sheet. “Your friends?”

The man tumbled onto the mattress and spread out like a winded starfish without a single care for his nakedness, and she felt a little shame at the way she ogled that delicious stomach and his softening length now glossy and still leaking onto his thigh.

He sighed.

He was so different now from the dark, intense man he’d been only moments ago. Back was the brilliance that emanated from within that almost compelled Gwen to close her eyes when she looked at him. She could hardly believe it was the same man who’d brought her to two earth-shaking orgasms in no time at all.

“Can I confess something to you?” he said.

Gwen tensed all over, but she managed a nod of her head. “Okay.”

“This isn’t really my thing,” he continued, and her heart plummeted in ways it shouldn’t considering she’d just fucked a total stranger.

“Oh…”

Gwen realized too late how apparent the disappointment in her voice was when the man shot up and swiveled to her, his hands waving in defense. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear! I mean, I have a hard time keeping things… simple. It wasn’t just the body shot thing that was a dare. Tonight was kind of my friends’ idea. They want me to be more… unattached, I guess?”

“That’s what my friend said, too,” Gwen laughed.

“Really?” He joined her laugh until, finally, his shoulders sagged with a light sigh as he covered his lower half with the sheet at last.

“Yeah.”

“I thought I was doing pretty good there, too, but— That was just so much more than I ever expected—you’re kind of more than I expected—and I really don’t want you to think I was just using you.”

“I don’t.”

“Good. Because…” He paused then, massaging his lips together as his eyes fell to his lap. “I think their dare kind of backfired anyway. Or it’s entirely possible I’m a hopeless case. So… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow?”

At this, Gwen stiffened. Her eyes snagged on his naked frame. Though the sheet swaddled his hips and thighs, it did nothing to hide his tummy or his shoulders or his bowed head, nor did it conceal his pencil legs and feet poking sweetly over the edge of the bed. And then she realized they were both tucked under that sheet, and it would be so, so easy to just lay back and fall asleep with him.

There it was again, that urge to romanticize someone she didn’t even know, yet everything about the guy screamed boyfriend—or worse.

Oh no.

Boyfriend.

The one word Marie had made Gwen swear not to use this weekend.

And damned if her roommate hadn’t been right all along. The hard truth was, Gwen didn’t know this man. She didn’t know what he did, she didn’t know his past, she didn’t know his ethnicity or even his damn name, and that was all there was to it. To assign any more meaning to it was every bit as foolish as everyone always reminded her she was.

Dread welled in her stomach and weighted her limbs. The best Gwen could do was offer a tight smile. “I’d really like that, but my friend has our whole day planned.”

“Oh.” He looked crestfallen, but he picked himself up quickly and slipped out of the bed in a shy, awkward rush while trying to keep his modesty with the edge of the sheet still draped around his hips. He stretched out his leg as far as he could to hook the band of his jeans with his toe. He tried to keep conversation flowing even as he struggled with the cutest little grunts very different to the ones that had just been uttered for her ears only. “Oh yeah? Going to check out the beach or the city?”

“I’m not sure,” Gwen said. The truth was they had no plans, but she had to lie because her whole body screamed to meet him again, and if she did, there was no way of keeping things superficial. The man was too cute, too sincere, and far, far too sexy to turn down a second time. “I’m not one for itineraries. I kind of go where my heart leads me.”

He stopped, jeans sagging in hand as he looked at her with a gentle smile. “Yeah, same.”

But then his smile fell away, and he raced to shimmy into his jeans, too in a hurry to even bother with his underwear, and Gwen turned her head and busied herself poking at the remote on the bedside table.

Over her shoulder, she asked, “So, what will you guys get up to then? More bachelor party stuff?”

“I never can tell with them. Even when one of the guys makes plans, the others always seem to change them. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Easiest way to get through life,” she agreed. Gwen wanted to flinch at her own voice, but she didn’t want to call any more attention to her terrible bedside manner than she already had.

In the end, it didn’t matter. The man beside her was too perceptive, and he picked up her cues instantly. “Let me just grab the rest of my clothes and clean up in the bathroom so you can get dressed.”

“Would you mind if I go first? You know, since...”

Maybe if she tried hard enough, her awkwardness could compact her into a handful of atoms, and she could just disappear.

“Oh, of course, duh. Sure. Absolutely,” he bumbled.

Gwen grabbed the haphazard pile at the foot of the bed and practically sprinted to the bathroom where she tried to lose herself in the repetition of cleanliness. At least that was automatic.

Against her better judgment, she checked herself in the mirror. She looked every bit as undone as he had made her, and she hastily combed her fingers through her bed head so she didn’t scream “harlot” when she made her way back through the hallways. She rinsed her face and neck and swished some water to freshen her breath, and when she was done, she felt brave enough to face the music.

When Gwen returned to the bedroom, she found the man dressed as he had been, though all his clothes bore the same noticeable wrinkles and bagginess that hers did.

He smiled at her, and she swallowed roughly.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

It was agony. She just wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel him again. She wanted to hear him in the shell of her ear again.

“So, this was really fun,” she said lamely. “Thanks for the drinks and, you know, everything else.”

He laughed shyly.

This time, as she faced his open complexion and expressive eyes, she had no choice but to be sincere. “I had a really great time.”

“You did?”

She nodded. “I really didn’t expect to meet someone like you either, but I’m glad I did.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed before he unexpectedly bowed to her. “Thank you. I feel the same.”

Gwen burst out laughing, which helped ease the pang in her heart at having to pull away. “You’re cute.”

He shrugged a shoulder and laughed, too, though his was much more forced. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and the pair stood there in a stalemate. At last, he took a step back, and she took one forward.

“So…”

“So…” he echoed.

Gwen bit the inside of her cheek roughly in the desperate hope it would wake her up, and, thankfully, the flare of pain combatted the butterflies before they could overtake her. Tightly, she began, “I’m going to head out, I think.”

“Sure, yeah,” he said as he ushered her back into the living room to the door. “Yeah, you probably should. Are you good to walk back to your room? Wait, this is your hotel, right? Do I need to call you an Uber?”

“Yeah, I’m here. All good.”

“Good.”

They exchanged another round of confused smiles before Gwen, fool that she was, lurched up onto her tip toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back, his smile slanted with an irresistible dopiness.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you back?”

“You probably shouldn’t.”

He nodded as though he understood, but Gwen wasn’t sure she did even though she’d been the one to say it.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

“Night,” he replied. “Take care.”

He opened his hotel door, and with a nod of her head first, Gwen turned and headed down the hall with the burning notion that he was watching her walk away.

She barely made it to the elevator before she had her phone in hand, intending to text Marie that she was headed back, but Gwen got sidetracked by the memory of what now lurked in her gallery.

She opened her camera roll only to be assaulted immediately by several snaps of his heart-shaped hair and buoyant cheeks framing his dazzling smile.

“He's cute. Is that your boyfriend?”

Gwen’s head shot up. She hadn’t even realized the elevator had stopped to acquire another passenger at some point. The bleached blonde girl smiled, her wild gold eyeliner glinting in the lowlight like some forest sprite sent there just to taunt her.

Gwen locked her phone and stuffed it in her leggings pocket with a shake of her head. “Uh. Oh, no, he’s just a friend.”

“Cute friend.”

“Yeah.”

The elevator dinged at the fourth floor and Gwen nodded to the other woman. “This is me. Have a good night.”

“You too!”

Back at her room, Gwen showered quickly, hoping it would be easier to distance herself from the forbidden word now buzzing in her brain like neon.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

She considered a shower, but that meant too much time to think just as much as it meant washing off the remnants of his cologne. She could do that in the morning once her heart had sobered up from its dopamine surge.

Gwen dressed for bed the same mechanical way she had back in Room 2281, and once she was safely into her pajamas, the familiarity brought the exhaustion in her muscles to the surface. She was only too happy to climb into bed after that, and tired as she was, she remembered to send her text to Marie.

Her finger hovered over the gallery icon again, but at the last second, she forced her phone off and let the night take hold of her.

Gwen woke to banging at her door. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and sat up slowly since her muscles ached from head to toe. She glanced at the thick drapes and caught the wan strip of light along the edges, but she had no clue what time it was until she grabbed her phone to find that it was just past noon. Even more surprisingly, she noted the slew of notifications.

Nine texts and four missed calls, all from Marie.

The banging continued, and Gwen groaned. “Give me a minute!”

At last, it quieted, and she shuffled like a geriatric over to the peephole. There, warped in the fish eye lens, was her roommate looking the perfect cross between annoyed and desperate. Gwen unlocked the door, and Marie rushed in.

“Finally,” the brunette said. “I was getting seriously worried.”

“I told you I made it back,” Gwen corrected.

“Yeah, but then you didn’t answer me at all, and I thought maybe you were passed out or something.”

The blonde squinted as she studied her friend now pacing the length of the hotel room. “Are you sure that’s it? Seems to me you’re the one who’s not okay.”

Marie shrugged a shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” her roommate said, still pacing. “Everything.”

Still exhausted, Gwen sat back on the bed and waited.

“Shit, it’s just— You know what, let's go to the pool. Maybe it will wash that guy out of my system.”

“That guy? The one from the party last night? Did you have a bad night?”

“No! Worse!” Marie wailed and flopped onto the bed. “He wasn't just scalding hot. He was likable! Ugh, I'm devastated. Catching feelings is your thing, girl, not mine. Damnit, I need a distraction. Tell me about your night. Please, don’t spare a single fucking detail.”

It was Gwen’s turn to shrug a shoulder. “I had fun.”

“So much fun you're not even going to tell your friend a single detail?” But then Marie's eyes narrowed, and her roommate’s skin bristled. “Or you had too much fun?”

“Hey, I slept in my own room last night, thank you.”

Marie whined. “Shit, I know. I must be projecting.”

“So what the hell happened with you last night?” Gwen said, only too happy to turn the attention away from her as she shuffled into the bathroom for her usual morning routine.

“I hardly know. We were dancing and drinking, no big deal, so I figured it was just going to be the usual fun, and it was fun, but, shit, he was just different, you know? He was like one of those lead guys from your movies, all gentlemanly and shit but more, too. Like he’s got secrets, but not the kind you want to run from, the kind you want to know. Oh my god, what am I even saying?”

Gwen smiled. “So, he was hot and charming? How is that different from the other guys you hook up with?”

“Gwennie, I didn’t even tell you about the sex. Shit, the way he moved his hips! There should be a law. And he was so diligent. He knew exactly what I wanted, and I didn't have to say a word, which was good because the only ones I could utter were swears. And I just couldn’t keep my hands off of him, you know? Fuck, not just his muscles, but his hair…” Marie laid there slack-jawed at the memory, her hands pressed over her belly.

“Sounds like you got the unforgettable night you were gunning for.”

“You don’t get it, babe. Even as he was giving me the dicking down of my life, this guy—he was, like, quietly sweet and funny? I don’t know how to explain it. He could just… smile, and it would make me laugh, like, even when he was inside, and somehow that was still super hot, you know?”

Gwen burst out laughing.

“See!” said Marie, gesturing at her roommate as she exploded up from the bed.

“I see,” the blonde teased with a lingering grin.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just, you know who you sound like?”

“You.”

“Me.”

Marie sighed. “Shit, I know. You know the worst part?”

“What?”

“This guy asked me to stay after.”

“Oh…”

“I mean, it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time I considered staying. Ain’t that some shit? But what would be the point, right?”

“Yeah…” Gwen said slowly as she thought of her thick-lipped lover. Marie’s unexpected dilemma had been just what Gwen needed to forget the ache in her core and the bigger ache in her chest, but now, it was a mirror reflecting things back far too vividly.

“Shit, huh?”

“Yeah. Shit.”

“You know the only thing to do, right?”

“Don't you dare,” Gwen warned.

But Marie was already up and moving to the door. “We’re going to the pool, and I'm going to find another hot guy because hot guys are a dime a dozen in Miami, right? I'm going to cleanse the palate.”

“Yeah, that's not how that works.”

“Look, I've never thought a guy was husband material before, let alone a one-night stand, so what do you suggest I do, Ms. Ephron?”

Gwen scowled. “Don't ask me. I've been getting it wrong so long that I'm not even sure I could trust myself to know when it was right.”

“Okay then. For lack of absolutely any other plan, this is what we’re doing. Put your swimsuit on, gorgeous. Let’s see how much Vitamin D we can get.”

Gwen sighed, but the truth was Marie’s distraction did help her forget the feeling of being surrounded by the stranger she couldn’t shake, so she slipped into her bikini, fought hard not to open her gallery yet again, and decided to dive headfirst into something new like her friend suggested if only to prove to herself once and for all that she’d idealized everything about last night.

Marie joined her in the hallway decked out in her cutest Miami-approved string bikini, already smelling of sunscreen and Flowerbomb. “Let’s do this.”

The pair chatted about their day and where they might go for their last night in town, all while studiously avoiding the topic of last night. They padded through the extravagant lobby along with a sea of other swimsuit-ed guests, their flip-flops smacking across the marble like theme music, until they emerged into the blistering Florida sun.

The pool looked very different in the daylight. There was no trace of the stage or the bars, and there was certainly no body shot table left out. It was just an ocean of sun-bleached concrete thrusting straight up to the white sands of Miami Beach, broken only by an enormous aquamarine pool, dozens of lavish cabanas, and a manmade forest of towering palms.

“Wait,” said Gwen as she scouted the bustling crowd stretching all the way out to the blue sea beyond, “you want the pool or—”

“Oh my god!” shouted Marie as she squealed to a stop and slipped behind Gwen. “It's him!”

“Who? The guy from last night? Where?”

“There, right at the edge of the pool. The one who’s shaped like a yield sign telling me slow down and give in to him again and again and again…”

“Marie!” she shouted and whirled around to face her friend.

“Oh my god, Gwennie, you have to hold me back or I am going to do irreparable damage here. Shit, shit, shit! I can’t believe I’m the one saying this. Fuck. He's looking right at me now, and he's waving with that stupid cute teddy bear smile, fuck. What do I do! What do I do!”

Gwen grabbed her friend’s shoulders and shook her until Marie looked at her. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to go over there, and I want to talk to him, and I want to hear his whole entire life story and what he wants in a woman, and then I want to take him back to my hotel room and be that woman.”

“Oh, girl,” Gwen laughed, “I never want to hear advice from you about this ever again.”

“That’s fine, just please come with me. I don’t want to talk to him alone.”

“Who are you, and what did you do with Marie?”

The brunette grimaced as she squeezed Gwen’s hands. “I don’t know! Help me!”

“Okay, now, I need to see the guy who broke my friend.”

Gwen turned from Marie toward the pool in time to catch the man who’d unmade her roommate over the course of one night. He was every bit as hot as Marie had described, with a chiseled jaw and even more chiseled abs, and he was indeed shaped like a triangle, which could be appreciated even easier since he was only in swim trunks. His skin had been worshipped by the sun, and he was sparkling thanks to a fresh dip in the pool. He lowered his muscular arm to sweep his fingers back through his sopping wet hair, and somewhere beside her, her friend whimpered.

But the blonde could only spend a fraction of a second on everything else around her because beside Marie’s hunk now was the very man who had unmade Gwen last night.

Time stopped.

He, too, was fresh out of the pool, with a towel ringing his neck and shoulders as swollen droplets rained down from thick, haphazard locks. He was out of breath, his chest heaving from his swim and his pale lips hanging open as he gulped air, just as they had when he’d fucked her to the brink of insanity.

But his eyes were as steady as ever, and they were fixed firmly on Gwen.

“Should we go over?” asked Marie, but her friend couldn’t move.

Instead, the two men began to walk the long perimeter before the bronzed man cut out the inconvenience and hopped back in the pool to wade across. Gwen was pretty sure she’d never again see anything more life-altering than these two shirtless heartthrobs pressing determinedly through the water with the ripples surging around their matching narrow waists.

The pair climbed out in horrible, horrible unison, their wet thighs flexing in time with their arms as water rushed off in diamond falls, and it was all terribly loud in Gwen’s ears. It only amplified when her stranger smiled in his darling tight-lipped way.

They padded across the concrete to the little swath of grass under a palm where the two ladies had been paralyzed.

“Hi, hello,” said the deep-voiced bronzed man. “It’s nice to see you again, Marie.”

“Hey, Hyunwoo,” she replied. Maybe it would sound casual to the strangers, but Gwen didn’t miss the uncharacteristic tremble in her friend’s voice.

“Good day for a swim,” he observed as he glanced up at the sun through the palm fronds and rubbed the back of his neck. “You planning on the pool or the ocean?”

“We hadn’t decided.”

“Ah, is this your friend you told me about?”

Marie nodded and took the chance to cling to her roommate’s hand, and with that, gained some strength. “Oh, yeah, this is Gwen. Gwen, this is Hyunwoo.”

Gwen felt the sharp squeeze at her hand, which was the only thing that made her realize she’d been staring unceasingly at her own pretty boy. She whipped her attention to Hyunwoo to smile and wave, but she could feel the burn of the other man’s eyes until she felt more naked than she had in his bed. She didn’t dare look back.

“Nice to meet you,” Hyunwoo said with that teddy bear smile, as Marie had called it. He turned toward his shirtless friend and added, “This is—”

“Hey!” came an exuberant call from across the pool in one of the loudest voices Gwen had ever heard. There stood yet another handsome man with hair dyed honey blond and chipper eyes waving at them with both arms like a used car lot inflatable. “Hey! Ask them if they want to join us.”

“Minhyuk,” scoffed the remaining stranger with a roll of his eyes, but Hyunwoo shrugged his mouth.

“What do you say, ladies? We have a cabana over there. Lunch is on its way, and we ordered lots.”

Marie giggled nervously and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I remember how much you said you like eating. I mean, if it’s cool with everybody…”

The brunette looked desperately at Gwen and squeezed her hand tighter than ever, and all eyes looked to the blonde.

“Sure, that’s cool,” said Gwen though she was anything but.

She was burning under the sun though it was nothing to the way she burned under the magnifying glass of cruel fate. Here, before the gentle gaze of the man she had forced herself to walk away from, everything came into calamitous focus.

His laugh, his easiness, his openness, his beauty. Their chemistry, their connection, their compatibility, their flaws.

Maybe Gwen had been a fool in love an embarrassing number of times, but she realized now that maybe all those mistakes had served a purpose. She could see clearly for the first time what all those men had lacked, and she’d be a much bigger fool to turn back a second time from something that felt undeniably different.

“You coming?” Marie called, and only then did Gwen realize Hyunwoo and her friend were already on their way to the cabana.

Beside her, her shot glass waited, smiling as he always seemed to be in her presence with that delicious bellybutton still glistening though this time it was from lingering pool water.

“Didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to ever see you again,” he said.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?” Gwen laughed awkwardly as she took the lead and followed her friend.

With his long legs, he caught up in a single stride, and together, they walked the long perimeter of the pool without any complaint.

“Bad at what?” he asked.

“Keeping promises to our friends.”

“Nah. Maybe it was just a dumb promise to make in the first place. And anyway,” he said, looking at her keenly over a bare shoulder, “aren’t you the one who told me no itineraries?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a red-cheeked chuckle.

I go where my heart leads…

“I take it Hyunwoo’s a part of the bachelor party?” Gwen said.

“Yup. There’s eight of us, including the groom and his brother. You’ll like them, just hopefully not as much as you like me.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And who says I like you?”

“I do. At least, I hope you do. Or maybe I’m just trying to manifest it.”

Gwen smiled shyly and nodded. “You’re right. I do.”

“Kind of funny how this worked out, huh? Your friend and my friend meeting up. Kind of feels like…”

“Blind dumb luck?”

“Destiny.” He studied her for a moment and then returned his eyes to the path around the pool. “I was going to say destiny.”

Her heart was beating out of her chest again, but this time, there was no scolding voice inside her head to temper it.

“You’re still cute,” she blurted.

“And you’re still driving me crazy.” His eyes roved over her skimpily clad figure, and he pressed his lips together. “So… Gwen, huh? That’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”

She was not prepared for the way it would feel to hear her name from his exquisite lips.

The front of her flip-flop rolled, and she stumbled forward with a cry and a flail before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he assured. He stared down at her fondly as she sheltered in the shade of his wide shoulders. Slowly, a smirk crept onto his lips. “Last time, you said it was the heels and you were a sandals girl. What’s your excuse today?”

“I’m clumsy, okay.”

“For everyone or just for me?” he teased. He leaned down, his lips to her hair, and added, “It’s okay if you say just for me. I’m kind of hoping for it.”

Gwen looked up into those brown eyes. The night had brought out their smoky depths, but the day brought out their playful hickory dimensions. So, too, had the merciless sun illuminated the finest spray of freckles dappling his cheek to puffy cheek, to devastating consequence.

“Maybe I’d admit it if I even knew who you were,” she said.

He stopped, and she stopped, too. Gwen looked at him with nervous eyes and an even more skittish heart.

She could forgive herself for all her stupid mistakes if it meant she could just get it right this one time…

Please. Just this once…

He lifted his head, caught her gaze, and closed the gap between them with one big step.

“In that case…”

Slowly, he bent down as his large hands gripped her cheeks, and just as his lips grazed hers gentler than the sea breeze, he spoke.

“So nice to finally meet you, Gwen. I’m Hyungwon.”

A/N: I know, I know. The muse obviously tried to turn this into a whole rom-com novel, but instead, I remained resolute to close this on the whimsical romantic open ending I originally intended. It got too out-of-hand as it was, if you couldn’t tell lol, so let your own romantic hearts take it from here, loves. <3 Thanks for reading!

#monsta x smut #hyungwon smut #oneshot #third person #oc

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