#green square sunglasses

[thestylesplash]

Granny Square Print Midi Dress + Style With a Smile Link Up

A couple of weeks ago I showed you my latest purchase from the Dawn O’Porter X Joanie collection. I also ordered this Casino Granny Square Print Midi Dress but had to return it for a replacement because the elasticated button loop had broken. The customer service at Joanie is excellent and they always reply to my emails promptly. I was so happy this style hadn’t sold out in my size because I love…

[tunatoge]

little lunch mishap - s. gojo x reader

contents: fem!reader (called mom/momma), mentions of eating, gojo sucks at packing lunches for his kids, written a little after gojo finds megumi and tsumiki

when gojo first met megumi, he’d made sure his infinity was on; he had you and shoko throw random things at him from across the field with and without cursed energy to make sure it worked properly. now, two years later, he doesn’t even realize that it’s off around the seven-year-old kid—not until megumi nails him in the face with an unripe clementine.

“ow!” gojo exclaims, bringing his hand up to his cheek as he lets his sunglasses clatter to the floor. “what was that for, megs?”

megumi glares at gojo, holding a softer and riper clementine in his grasp. you glance over at them from the kitchen as they stare each other down.

“that was the fruit you put in my lunch,” megumi grumbles as he sinks his little fingers into his ripe clementine. “i know you packed it ‘cause mom normally peels them for me.”

“okay,” gojo starts as he leans over and picks up the clementine megumi threw at him, the skin split and the sticky juice dripping all over the tiled floor and his hands. he places the ruined fruit on the counter, bending over again and picking up his sunglasses. “momma had a mission this morning, so me—your amazing and awesome dad—packed your lunch and tsumiki’s,” gojo says with gritted teeth, putting unnecessary stress on the word ‘dad’. “and by the way,” he adds as an afterthought, “tsumiki ate all of her’s.” gojo puffs his chest triumphantly, settling his glasses back onto his face.

you glance at tsumiki as she does her homework, stifling your laughter when a small grimace washes over her features.

“was it that bad?” you ask her in a quiet whisper, making sure gojo and megumi don’t hear you.

tsumiki looks up at you and nods, “satoru made us sandwiches but i think he used the bread that you told him to throw out; it was kind of moldy.” she takes in your wide eyes and adds: “i didn’t eat it, i threw it away.”

you let out a relieved sigh, turning back around to pick up a plate of sliced apples and a cup of peanut butter. you place it down on the kitchen island next to tsumiki as she thanks you. megumi finishes shoving his peeled clementine in his mouth, passing the peel off to gojo as he takes a seat next to his sister.

“are you making lunch tomorrow for school?” he asks you, picking up an apple slice and taking a bite out of it.

you hum in response, scooping out some marshmallow fluff fruit dip you’d made a few days ago. you set it in front of gojo who begrudgingly reaches over and takes an apple slice. you stop megumi from slapping the fruit out of gojo’s hand.

“hey! it wasn’t that bad,” gojo insists through a mouthful of apple. megumi looks at him in disgust. “you had veggies, fruits, and a main meal! i even packed a snack in there!”

you sigh, “‘gumi, what did satoru pack you?”

megumi wipes his hands on a napkin as he looks at you. he makes a point to swallow before speaking. “an unripe clementine, a whole unpeeled carrot from the garden with its top still on, a moldy sandwich, and a family sized bag of skittles.” he swings his feet back and forth under the kitchen island, “i ate the carrot.”

you glance at satoru who reddens at megumi’s words, “okay… tsumiki, what was in yours?” you turn your attention to the little girl who sits next to megumi.

tsumiki glances at gojo in sympathy, “a moldy sandwich, a whole avocado, a green tomato that he picked from the garden even though megumi said it was unready, and a chocolate bar.” she looks at you with a smile, “i ate the avocado. i also had a square from the chocolate bar.”

you frown as you turn back around and pull out a bag of bread and an open bag of chips. gojo watches as you easily slather two slices of bread in peanut butter and strawberry jam, slicing it diagonally and placing the pieces on two different plates. you dump a generous amount of chips on each plate before placing them in front of megumi and tsumiki. you turn around and pick up the marshmallow fluff dip, sliding it into the fridge and shutting the door with your hip. gojo unabashedly stares at your ass when you bend over.

“okay, satoru,” you sigh as you turn towards him. he looks up at you with bright eyes, smiling into his palm. his glasses are on the counter. “from now on, you’ll take my morning missions and i’ll make their lunches.” you watch from the corner of your eye as megumi eagerly eats his chips and sandwich. “and you’ll throw out the bread when i tell you it’s gone bad.”

gojo drops his head on the counter. “you know, you’re so pretty, baby.” he looks up at you through his lashes, batting them intensely. “i’m truthfully so lucky to have you in my life.”

you look at him blankly. “and you’ll be doing the dishes for the next two weeks.”

“WHAT?”

[grandline-fics]

Green Eyes, Red Lips

DESCRIPTION: When jealousy leads to a confession

WARNINGS: swearing, some suggestive themes(maybe?) 

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 1,386

A/N: I really liked how this came out so I might do this as a series with other characters. Feel free to request any you’d like to see.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

“Shit, Marines!” Usopp hissed with worry. Zoro lazily slid his good eye open to spy the two uniformed men walking down the street. It wouldn’t take long for their presence to be known and that would mean a fight. His hand dropped to rest over the hilts of his swords in preparation but frowned when his crew-mate’s hand griped his shoulder tightly. “We promised Nami! No attention, we’re only here for supplies, not fights.” The sniper reminded him sharply. Zoro clicked his tongue in annoyance and kept his eye on the marines as they stopped to briefly talk to one of the locals. It seemed they were just on a routine patrol, that was good. If they weren’t actively looking for them it gave them more time.

You poked your head out from the doorway and followed Usopp and Zoro’s stares. Your mood soured to see the Marines, you and Nami were hoping to actually enjoy a relaxed shopping day on this island before having to set off. Oh well, at least the others were almost done. A movement caught your eye and you scowled to see Zoro’s fingers twitching against his swords. He was hoping the Marine’s noticed them and from the burning glare he was sending their way it was clear he wanted a fight and damn the promise he’d made when he left the Sunny that afternoon. Roughly you slapped his forearm, knowing it wouldn’t actually hurt him but it was enough to make him turn his attention to you. 

“Don’t you even think bout it! You’ve been itching for a fight since we left the last island. If you can’t control yourself go back to the Sunny.” Zoro’s behaviour had been pissing you off lately. Normally you didn’t mind his colder attitude if you knew what was wrong but this time there had been no warning. Up until the night before you left the last island things had been good. It was just exhausting having your mood spoiled by him and it was clear you were the one he was taking it out on.

Zoro glared down at you, his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed so tightly together you thought a vein was about to burst where they met on his forehead. “Well it’ll be a fight either way once they realise it’s us.” he ground out tightly. “Unless you’ve got a better idea? They’re getting closer.” You rolled your eyes at him and strode back into the store, grabbing a pair of sunglasses and hat from their displays. After telling the owner to add it to your crew’s bill you put them on while ignoring the curious stares you were getting from Nami, Franky, and Luffy as they were lifting the crates of supplies into their arms. 

Spotting a mirror you reapplied your lipstick and pulled off your jacket, shoving it into Zoro’s chest as you stormed by him and out into the street. “Make yourself useful and hold this.” You instructed and he was half tempted to just let it fall to the ground. But Zoro couldn’t help but grip it tightly as he watched you with practiced apathy. Despite how guarded he was he couldn’t help but push away from the wall when you looked around yourself as you walked and purposely bumped into the two Marines, even making a point to gasp in surprise, whirling to look at the two men. “Oh I’m so sorry!”

“Please don’t apologise!” the shorter of the two men dismissed with a bright smile while he looked you over with interest. “Are you lost?” Zoro ground his teeth together to hear you laugh shyly and play with the end of a lock of your hair. 

“Was it that obvious?” You asked stepping closer to the two Marines and pointed behind them, to make them turn. “I’m trying to get to the Fountain Square. Everyone says it’s beautiful at this time of day but I just keep getting turned around.” You explained looping your arms through theirs. “Could you both show me the way?”

“Oh it happens to everyone! Don’t worry you’re in safe hands with us!” the taller Marine promised as he began to walk with you and his companion in the opposite direction. While they rambled, you glanced over your shoulder and gave a single nod to Luffy before you disappeared into the crowd. 

“Looks like they’ve got it covered!” Luffy cheered with a unfazed grin. “Let’s get this back to the Sunny, I’m hungry.”

“Zoro?” Zoro stood where he was, barely registering Nami’s call. Everything told him to follow you and make sure you got away from the Marines safely but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it or move. If he did it would only admit the feelings he had for you that he’d been trying to kill with his harsh words and cold attitude. “Zoro come on! Don’t tell me you’re lost already. The ship is this way!” Nami called louder. The swordsman bit back a growl and turned on his heel, catching up with the crew and lifted one of the crates from Usopp’s shaking arms. With every step he took, he let his nails dig into the box. 

By the time you returned to the ship everything was restocked and you were ready to set sail. As the Sunny pulled from the docks you climbed the crows nest, knowing you’d find Zoro there with your jacket. Only when you saw it had been thrown carelessly over one of the benches you rolled your eyes and grabbed it, ready to go back to your own quarters. You didn’t want to deal with the first mate when the tension rolling off of his body was a hundred times worse than it had been that morning. “Sad to be leaving your boyfriends?” He sneered at you. Angrily you slammed the hatch closed and turned to glare at him. 

“Alright what the fuck is wrong with you?” You’d had enough of this and you weren’t leaving until you got to the bottom of this. “Did I offend you in some way? Rip your favourite bandana or something? What have I done that’s so bad for you to look at me like I’m your enemy?”

“Just forget it.” 

“No, Zoro. I won’t forget it but do you know what I will do?” You hissed viciously. “I’ll do us both a favour and leave. Unless I get an answer out of you I’ll leave at the next island we get to and never come back because I’m not dealing with this bullshit anymore.” 

Faster than you could blink Zoro was in front of you, hands slamming against the wall on either side of your head. Before you could say anything else his lips were on yours; strong, insistent, and overwhelming. Your head was spinning but you managed to regain enough control to return the kiss, hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders, pulling him closer. Hungrily Zoro’s hands slipped to grip your waist and thread into your hair. He couldn’t tell you how he felt but it all came out through his touch and powerful kiss. Finally you broke free and caught your breath enough to manage out a dazed. “Oh…so you don’t hate me then…”

“Definitely not.” You didn’t think that Zoro’s voice could get any lower and you held back a shudder to meet the burning stare that finally made sense. “Hated those assholes cosying up to you though.”

“Two nobody Marines made you jealous?” you asked with a small laugh. You couldn’t help but find it funny, the Demon Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro was capable of jealousy. “They’re far too scrawny to be my type.”

“Not just those runts. That last island-”

“Oh him!” you gasped with a grin, remembering the self proclaimed King that you and the rest of the crew helped save. “I didn’t think anyone heard him propose to me before we left though.”

“He what?!” Zoro growled suddenly making you yelped in surprise as his grip tightened and he pushed you against the wall. His lips claiming yours once more with the intention of wiping that stupid king and any other man from your memory until it was only him on your mind and you were only too eager to let him. 

[mydearesthrry]

honeyed bliss - h.s.

a/n: hi! here’s another one. post hslot harry, and dadrry, which should be a warning in itself. enjoy!

🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff, ITALYRRY AND DADRRY. im a wreck.

🐇 pairing: husband!dad!harry styles x fem!reader

💐 wc: 800

“Babe, can you come here? I need to tan, but I can't get the tanning lotion on my back.” Y/N shouted sweetly to her husband, voice soft as she turned on her tummy. 

“Yeah m’love, give me two seconds. ‘M cutting up some watermelon for Daisy.” He called back, standing at the drink bar, a knife in his hand as he watched his daughter toddle around in the small area that he stood in. Daisy knocked on the doors that were in the square, knocking on the door to exit as she babbled quietly to herself. 

“Mumma, want mama,” Daisy pouted, perking up when she heard her moms voice. She stumbled a bit when she turned around to look at her dad with pleading puppy dog eyes, her axis of gravity not perfect quite yet. 

“Oh, y’want mama, baby? Okay, let’s get y’to mama.” Harry plucked her up off the ground and hiked her up onto his hip, scooping a couple blocks of watermelon into a yellow bowl. Harry pushed open the door to the drink bar, walking over to his wife who was laying down on a beach chair. His wife turned onto her side, reaching out for her baby who was already squirming in her dads arms. 

“Hi baby! You wanna come lay down with mama? Wanna sunbathe?” Y/N turned on her mom voice, babying her daughter. 

“Mama, mama, mama,” Daisy giggled, patting her mom’s face, a wide smile on her face, looking almost identical to Harry down to the dimples. 

“God, H. I can’t believe I birthed her, held her in my stomach for months, the whole nine yards, and she just looks exactly like you. Like, not even an inch of me in here. She’s got her Daddy’s curly hair, pretty green eyes, and cute little dimples… Don’t you, Dais?” She smiled, turning onto her back to place her baby on her thighs, Daisy’s head coming up to rest on her knees, her legs laying on her torso. 

“Guess so, m’love, but don’t worry, she still loves her Mumma waaaay more than her Daddy.”  Harry comments, munching on watermelon on the beach chair next to you. She turns her head to him and raises an eyebrow, and he smiles sheepishly. 

“Sorry,” he scratches his nose awkwardly. “I didn't mean that.” 

“Good, y’know she loves you just as much as she loves me.” She gave him a stern look, and he could see her eyes through her sunglasses. 

“Yeah, I know. Bad joke, didn’t land. Tough crowd, eh?” He smiled sheepishly. 

“Mmm, guess comedy isn’t for you, hm? Better stick to singing, pretty boy.” Y/N muttered before bringing her baby up to her chest, pressing small butterfly kisses to her head. 

“M’sweet girls, prettiest girls ever,” Harry grins, pulling your phone from underneath the throw pillow your head was resting on, snapping a few precious pictures. “Can’t believe ‘M so lucky.” 

Twisting his back to look behind him, he reached out to switch the bowl of watermelon for the camcorder, turning it on and recording his wife and daughter, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Today is July 26, 2023, a couple of days after the final Love On Tour show, and we’ve just gotten home to the Styles Villa in the Amalfi Coast of Italy. Here we have Mama and baby bunny in their most rawest forms,” Harry narrated, a grin on his face when he heard a sweet giggle emit from his wife’s chest. “Baby bunny’s sporting a cute swim set gifted to her from her favorite uncle, Uncle Alessandro, and Mama’s wearing a Gucci swim set as well, looking as beautiful as ever with the most beautiful and glowy skin-”

“H, shut up!” She guffaws, placing an embarrassed hand on her face. “Dais is gonna watch these one day and be scarred by the way you’re talking about me.”

Harry turns the camera so it’s on his face, “Little Daisy, if you’re watching these right now in the future, never settle for less than how I treat Mama. Y’deserve to be treated like a queen, m’soul, never ever settle for less.”

He flips the camera around again to face his girls, catching a tail end of YN’s eyeroll on camera. “Yes, sweet girl. I agree with Daddy, never settle for less.” She places more sweet kisses on Daisy’s head, cooing with Harry when a soft snore leaves their baby’s lips.

“Well, since y’asleep now, I think that’s a good place to leave it. We love you, Daisy. Byeeeee!” Harry waves, turning in his seat to have the camera face him and his small family. YN giggles and blows kisses, waving until Harry turns off the camera.

“We’ve got it good, Lovie.” He smiles, leaning forward to peck a kiss to her cheek, her temple, and then one on her lips, being cautious of the sleeping baby on her chest.

“Yes, we do.”

[hippiegoth97]

You Couldn't Ignore Me If You Tried: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

Master List

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescurtainbangz @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Description: You're invited to a party hosted by one of your classmates from Hawkins Community College. You're not usually one for parties, but Steve insists you go and socialize. He goes with you, quickly chatting up the ladies. While at the party, you happen upon Eddie Munson offering you drugs. You hated each other in high school, but the festive spirit may just bring you a change of heart...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, female reader, enemies to lovers, mentions/use of drugs and alcohol, angst, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise/degradation, semi-public sex

Word Count: 14.1k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

You Couldn't Ignore Me If You Tried

Pt. 1/2

You're walking between classes at Hawkins Community College when a random guy shoves a neon green flier into your hands. "Party at Lover's Lake! Don't miss it, baby!" He says while peeking over his sunglasses.

"I'll think about it." You say awkwardly, putting the paper over the books in your arms. He winks at you, smacking his mouth as he chews his gum. Then he goes on his merry way, giving more flyers to every hot girl he sees. Who the fuck was that guy? You have no idea. You glance at the flier, and it reads: “You're invited to Reefer Rick's early release party! He's going from in the slammer to getting hammered! 2121 Holland Rd at 7pm Be there or be square! And don't be a narc!" It's written in bubble letters, and has a giant pot leaf in the background. You scoff, thinking about tossing it in the trash can next to you. But Steve comes up from behind you before you can.

"Whatcha got there? Oh, you got a flier too?" He asks abruptly, causing you to jump as you’re startled by his presence.

"Shit, Steve. Don't sneak up on me like that!" You thump his shoulder, making your way to your next class.

"Ow! Rude. So, are you going to this?" He asks, gesturing at the paper in his own hands as he walks with you.

"I don't know, I'm not really a party person." You shrug, already sensing Steve gearing up to convince you into going. He's always been a social butterfly, lucky him.

"Aw, come on, Y/N. You really wanna be a lonely loser for the rest of your life?"

"Hey!" You glare at him. "Who's the rude one now?" You grumble, gripping your books closer to your chest. 

"What? It's true.” He continues. “You don't really hang out with anyone besides me and Robin. And your love life is borderline nonexistent." He sighs when he sees you giving him a death stare. "Look, you're a really nice girl, Y/N. I just think you could stand to let loose every once in a while. Not to mention you definitely need to get laid. God, you're wound up so tight that you're just waiting to snap." He rambles on, gesturing with his hands as he speaks.

He goes on like this until you've almost arrived at the next class of the day, and his words manage to worm their way into your head to make you give in to him. "Ugh, fuck, fine! I'll go to this damn thing. But YOU are coming with me and YOU are driving!" You yell, drawing the attention of other students around you. You groan, tugging the door to the lecture hall open, leaving Steve behind you.

"See? Tightly. Wound." He calls after you before rushing to his own class. You roll your eyes, making your way to a seat near the back of the room. Your professor drones on about physics, and you're barely paying attention. You're on autopilot, jotting down the things he writes on the chalkboard without actually reading them. Your mind is somewhere else, contemplating what Steve said to you earlier. He’s right, you definitely deserve to go nuts and just be a young adult. And you'd be lying if you disagree with his statement about you needing a good lay. You mentally roll your eyes again, annoyed that Steve has you pegged. This party better be worth it.

When the day is finally over, you meet up with Steve in the parking lot. "Hey, dickhead." You call to him as you approach his car.

He scoffs at your insult, shaking his head. "You better watch your tone, Y/N. I could just leave you here and let you find your own way home and to the party."

"Yeah, right. A gentleman like you could never just leave a helpless girl like me to her own devices." You smirk, going over to the passenger side and sliding into your seat. He sighs, getting into the driver's side. "And you're lucky I agreed to go to this stupid party anyways. Let's go home and change, hm? I better look real slutty if I'm going to get laid, like you say I so desperately need." You look over at him, smiling sarcastically.

"You're just upset that I'm right." He grumbles before shifting the car into gear, driving you both to your shared apartment. It was Steve's idea to be roommates, and you jumped at his offer to split the rent. Plus, if anyone breaks in, you have a semi-strong man to protect you. He keeps a baseball bat with nails embedded in it by his bed in case it ever happens. You’ve asked him about it a few times, wondering why he needs such an excessive weapon. But he always brushes you off, like he’s hiding something. You’ve dismissed it as him having an irrational fear or something, and decided to drop it.

The ride to your apartment is silent except for the radio, you stare outside the window and fantasize about how tonight might go. You want to have fun, but you can't help feeling anxious about potentially hooking up with a random person. You aren't a virgin by any means, but guys aren't exactly lining up around the block to give you their time, either. The whole concept of parties and the activities held at them seem foreign to you. Drinking, smoking, awful dancing, fucking. What was the point of it all? You figure there must be a reason so many people participate, so why not go crazy? You just hope you can find someone cute enough to sleep with, and to not puke your guts out from drinking too much.

Steve notices your leg nervously bobbing up and down, raising an eyebrow at you. "Are you okay, Y/N?" He asks.

"Hm?" You look over at him, confused.

"Are you nervous or something? You're shaking your leg like Thumper." He motions at your leg with his head, and you look down.

"Oh, um....I guess I'm just anxious about the party." You say, glancing at your hands.

"Oh. Well, don't. It'll be fine. I'll be there, and we'll have a good time. I promise." He reassures you, smiling kindly.

"Okay." You say unconvincingly. Steve parks the car and you both head upstairs to your apartment. You run to your room to get ready, contemplating just how easy you want to look tonight. You dig through your closet, rapidly dragging the hangers forward to weigh your options. You debate wearing a skirt, or even just jeans, but nothing feels right. Not until you happen upon a cocktail dress you were given by Robin for your birthday. She aptly called it your 'fuck me' dress. It's black, form-fitting, sleeveless, with a collared neck. It sparkles in the light from the sequins that cover its surface. It goes just a couple inches below your ass, and it leaves most of your back exposed. This is the look.

You slip into it, fitting like a glove. You think about wearing stockings underneath, but decide against it. They'll just be more difficult to get off later. You look in the mirror, working out how to do your hair and makeup. You decide to tease your hair, inhaling a noxious cloud of hairspray as you go. You smoke out your eyes, and add a light amount of foundation. You finish it off with a bright red lip, making sure to dab off the excess so it won't end up on your teeth. You add simple gold jewelry to accessorize, nothing too flashy that would distract from the dress. Finally, you step into some shiny black heels. You inspect yourself in the mirror, satisfied with your work.

"Are you ready yet, Y/N?" Steve asks impatiently, knocking on your door.

"Yep! Come in and have a look!" You say excitedly. Steve opens the door, and his jaw drops when he sees you. You beam at him, spinning in a small circle. "What do you think, Stevie?"

"I think you're gonna be at the top of every guy's list tonight." He stares at you dumbly, almost drooling. "Including mine."

"In your dreams, Harrington! You're more like a brother to me than anything. Is that what you're wearing?" You point at his simple pairing of jeans and a button-up shirt. "It's almost the same as what you wore to school today. Oh, God. Am I overdressed?" You ask, freaking out that you've gone overboard and look like an idiot.

"No! No, no. I mean, yes, I'm wearing this. But you aren't overdressed, I promise! The girls always dress better than the guys, you look perfect." He can't stop gawking at you, and your cheeks burn bright pink.

"If you say so." You grin at him, eager to get over to the house of whoever the fuck 'Reefer Rick' is.

When Steve pulls up to the house by Lover's Lake, you see the party is in full swing. People making out on the hoods of cars, some puking into the nearby bushes, others smoking weed and cigarettes. There's also a keg out front with people taking turns chugging from it. The whole atmosphere feels so overwhelming, you can’t help  wondering if this is a mistake. "If you even think of backing out now, when you look like that, I will never forgive you." Steve is onto you, almost like a damn mind reader.

"Alright! It was just a passing thought, nothing more. Let's get this over with." You sigh, stepping out into the cool night air. Steve takes your hand to assist you, the gravel underfoot makes your heels unsteady. Once inside, he lets you go to find some booze for you both to drink. You take an empty spot on a nearby couch to plop down on, crossing one leg over the other. There's so many people here, it must be everyone from school flooding this place. The atmosphere is warm and electric, and reeks of beer.

You spectate the people around you, watching them grind against each other to the music blasting through the house. Lots of conversations around the space echo against the walls, creating a cacophony of voices. There's a girl in the corner crying. Other girls surround her, you assume her boyfriend did something wrong. There's a line of people waiting for the bathroom, and pairs going upstairs to have sex. As you look around the house to observe the scene, you feel a pair of eyes burning into you. Someone next to you on the couch finds you very interesting.

"My, my. If it isn't Y/N Y/L/N." You hear a voice belonging to those eyes say to you. You turn to look at who's speaking to you, locking eyes with the one and only Eddie Munson.

You flash him a fake smile, unamused by his greeting. "Hello there, freak. What do you want?" You and Eddie had never gotten along in school, you hated how smug he was about everything. He was such a wastoid back then, and it seems like nothing has changed.

"Hey, now. Put the claws away, pussycat. You still hate me, huh?" He smirks at you, scooting a bit closer. You cross your arms, facing forward.

"Yes. So what are you doing here? You don't even go to the college. You dropped out like the loser you are." You say spitefully, spitting venom with your words.

"Ouch, someone's in a mood this evening." He leans in closer to speak in your ear. "I think I have something that could help with that." You freeze up at his words, shocked at how forward he is.

You face him again, and you notice he's very close to you. Like, kissing distance close. He glances at your lips, and you can't help swallowing hard at the proximity. "Yeah, like I'd ever fuck an asshole like you. Maybe when Hell freezes over." You stand up off the couch to go find Steve, he’s taking too long with the drinks. You push your way through the crowd, looking for his signature mop of hair. You don't even realize Eddie is following close behind you until you find Steve in the kitchen. He's chatting up some girl with blonde hair and a skimpy dress, she's definitely his type.

You step up to the counter where all the alcohol is being kept, finding an empty cup to pour some vodka into. Eddie sidles up next to you, still smirking. "Ya know, Y/N, I wasn't even talking about sex. I just figure a tight-ass like you could do with some pot, or coke, if that's your thing. But I like your suggestion a whole lot more." He grabs his own cup, pouring himself some tequila. You down your drink in one gulp, hissing at the burn running down your throat. "Well, seems like maybe you don't need my services after all. Have a good night, Y/N. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He says slyly, leaving you alone as he sips from his cup.

"What are you, my mother?" You mutter to yourself once Eddie's out of earshot. You pour yourself another drink, and walk over to Steve.

"Oh, hey! There you are!" Steve says nonchalantly.

"Here I am! I thought you were bringing me a drink, Steve!" You scowl at him, not paying attention to the girl he's talking to.

"Is this your girlfriend?" She asks him, seemingly threatened by you.

"Nah, she's just my roommate. She's like a sister to me, really." He acts cool, and it makes the girl swoon.

"Well, got my own drink now." You hold up your cup.

"Hey, uh, I noticed Munson was talking to you. What's that about?" Steve asks, concerned.

"He's just being the same jerk he's always been. He was trying to give me drugs. I told him I wasn't interested, so he fucked off." You sip your vodka, trying to drown the annoyance and frustration that Eddie’s stirred up in you.

"Okay, if you say so. He wouldn't be a bad choice for a one-time thing though. He's the freak, after all. He may have flunked out of school, but he's probably an ace in the sack." He chuckles at the thought. You cross your arms, for him to even suggest that you sleep with Eddie makes you want to vomit.

"Well, if you think he's so great, why don't YOU sleep with him!?" You shout, drawing the attention of a few partygoers surrounding you. You pour more alcohol for yourself, storming off to sulk in a corner. You lean against the wall, watching everyone have a good time except for you. Some random guy walks up to you, asking you to dance with him. He's pretty handsome, and he seems polite enough. You catch Eddie's eyes on you again, and you smirk in his direction as you accept the man's offer to dance.

The two of you head to the makeshift dance floor, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hands go to your waist, and you move sensually to the music. You turn your back to him when the pace picks up, rubbing your ass into his crotch as he holds you close. You drink more from your cup, beginning to feel a decent buzz. You see Eddie again, staring at you while talking to some other girl. He smirks when you notice him, obviously flirting with the girl to make you jealous. But jealous of what, exactly?

You down the rest of your drink, tossing the cup to the floor. You maintain eye contact with the metalhead, beginning to run your hands over your body suggestively. We'll see who the jealous one really is, you think to yourself. Eddie takes that as his cue to move in closer to the random girl, stroking her arm as he tells a joke. They laugh together, and it makes your smile fall away. You can't believe it, you're actually upset by this? But why? You hated each other in school, and you still do now. Great, he's tormenting you, just like the old days.

Eddie's eyes flick to yours again, noticing your reaction. You scowl at him, turning back around to grab onto the guy you're dancing with. You decide to run your hands down his chest, to his belt, to his crotch. You're just ghosting over him, nothing substantial. The man looks at you, liking the signals you're giving him. You couldn't care less about him, you don't even remember his name. Jack…Jim, maybe? It’s something stupid, and you don't care to know it. But you flash him a smile as you rotate together.

Now you see Eddie kissing the other girl, his hands running up and down her sides as their lips move against each other. You scoff. He's un-fucking-believable. Two can play at this game. You quickly pull Jack/Jim's head to you, smashing your lips onto his. His hands instantly go to your ass, squeezing it firmly. You don't feel a thing for him at all, you're just so worked up by this unspoken game that Eddie's playing with you. You break away from the kiss, looking to see what the fucker is up to now.

The other girl is gone now, storming off with an angry look on her face. Eddie's staring at you, making his way to the stairs. He beckons you over with a finger, confident that you'll follow him. Your mouth sits agape, surprised at him thinking he's going to win you over by kissing someone else. He walks up the stairs, going into one of the rooms alone. He's waiting for you. You scoff, thinking about how much of an ass he is. You'll go up there alright, to give him a piece of your mind.

"What's wrong?" Jack/Jim asks, confused at the look on your face.

"I, uh, gotta go. Sorry, I'm not feeling so good." You try your best to brush him off, wanting to go tear Eddie a new asshole.

"Oh, okay. I can help you if you want." You feel a little bad, this guy seems nice enough. And you just used him to make another man jealous. How childish.

"No, please. It's not gonna be pretty, I promise. Maybe I'll see you later though, Jack." You guess at his name.

"It's Jerry." He says, shocked at your sudden motivation to leave.

"Right. Sorry." You give him an apologetic look, before pushing your way through the crowd of dancing bodies. You stomp your way upstairs, opening each door in the hall angrily. Most of the rooms are empty, except for one with a couple loudly fucking in it. You quickly shut the door, apologizing briefly to the people inside. There's one room left at the very end of the hall, Eddie has to be in that one. You walk to the door, cautiously turning the handle and swinging it open.

You shriek as Eddie pulls you inside and quickly shuts the door. The room is dimly lit by arty neon lights on the walls, casting a purple glow on everything inside. He pushes you against the door, before clicking the lock. He's got a hand planted on either side of your head against it, and he's staring deeply into your eyes. His breath fans against your face, smelling of tequila. You crinkle your nose at it. "I see you've accepted my invitation." He grins at you, satisfied that you've played right into his hands.

"If it was an invitation to kick your ass, then sure. What the fuck is wrong with you? Using that girl to try to make me jealous? You really are a dick, you know that?" You yell in his face, but his look doesn't waver.

"Well, last time I checked, you started it. You didn't care about that guy at all, you just wanted to get under my skin." He says calmly. You know he's right, but you don't want to admit it. "Come on, princess. Tell me, why do you hate me so much?" He asks, his eyes growing softer. It’s an odd look on him, and annoyingly…cute.

"I-I don't know. I guess I was...jealous." You force the words from your lips, for the longest time you’ve never wanted to be honest with yourself about how Eddie made you feel. His eyes widen at your comment.

"Jealous? Whatever for?" He asks, genuinely curious to know what you mean.

"Well, you know. You're a freak, but you don't care. You went around doing what you wanted, being yourself. I never was brave enough to do that." You feel silly holding a grudge over something like this, he must think you're the freak now.

"True, but it didn't exactly make me a popular person, Y/N. Quite the opposite actually." He backs away from you a bit, letting you breathe. "I'm sorry you felt that way. Really. I wish you would've told me before, though." He says thoughtfully.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

"Because I may have had a major crush on you. But you always acted like you were too good for me. You probably are too good for me if I'm being honest. You know, if anyone should be holding a grudge, it should be me." He laughs, finding the whole situation so ridiculous. Your eyes widen at his confession, you'd never realized he had feelings for you. He sits on the edge of the bed in the room, placing his hands in his lap. "What?" He asks, weirded out by the look on your face.

You walk over to him without saying another word. You stand in front of him, putting your hands on his shoulders. He just stares at you as you move, unsure of what you're up to. You put a knee onto the bed, then the other in order to straddle him. His hands instinctively go to your waist, resting there respectfully. You gaze into his eyes, batting your lashes at him. The energy in the room instantly changes. It's no longer angry and tense, but burning with electrified lust. You bring your lips real close to his, parting your mouth slightly. "Do you still have that crush, Eddie?" You whisper at him seductively.

"It never stopped, Y/N." He replies, shocked at your attraction to him. Never in a million years did he think you'd be with him like this. He'd thought about it many times, even dreamt about it. But here you are, in the flesh, on his lap. You close the gap between you, putting your lips against his. He moans into the kiss, and you bite his bottom lip. He lets your tongue in, using his own to fight for dominance. You put up a good fight, but Eddie wins out. You break away for a moment, your breath shuddering slightly. Eddie's a really good kisser, it's intoxicating. "So I guess Hell is freezing over, huh?" He says cheekily.

"Oh, shut up, smartass." You quip before kissing him again, rougher this time. Your hands wander into his hair, and you can't resist pulling on it. He moans at the action, prompting you to do it again.

"Jesus, Y/N. Take it easy on the mane, will ya?" He says, breathing heavily.

"Sorry, it sounded like you enjoy it." You blush, feeling bad for hurting him.

"Oh, I do. Just be careful, hm? I'd like to not go bald before I'm thirty." He says lowly, before reaching behind you to unzip the collar of your dress. He exposes your neck, planting wet kisses to it. His teeth worry the flesh, leaving dark purple marks behind.

"Shit, Eddie. That feels really good." You sigh, leaning your head to the side to give him better access. He keeps peppering you with kisses and love bites, drawing many moans from your lips in the process. You start to grind yourself into Eddie, feeling his cock quickly growing beneath you. He groans at your movements, biting down on your throat harshly. "Fuck!" You cry out, pushing yourself down even harder onto him. You're getting wet very quickly, every move of Eddie's turns you on more and more.

"Mmm, you make such sexy noises, princess." Eddie murmurs against your skin. He looks at you, his pupils blown out with desire. "You look fuckin’ gorgeous by the way. Forgive me for not mentioning it before."

"It's alright, I didn't really give you the chance. But thank you, I put a decent amount of work into it." You say as you maintain eye contact with him.

"Well, it would be such a shame to ruin it. Unless you want me to." He suggests playfully, his hands grabbing your ass.

You moan again, continuing the movement of your hips on him. "I would like nothing more than to have you absolutely wreck me." You lean in to take his earlobe between your teeth, pulling it slightly before letting go. His breath hitches, and his hands grip you tighter.

"Don't mind if I do." He chuckles, before unzipping the side of your dress. The fabric falls down to your hips, leaving your tits exposed to Eddie's gaze. "Beautiful." He breathes out, reaching up to touch your breasts. He massages them in his hands, and your head falls back in pleasure. He brings his lips to your chest, kissing every inch of flesh he can reach.

"Oh, Eddie." You moan out, running your fingers through his hair as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasp, pulling on his frizzy locks again. He groans at your touch, biting the sensitive bud. "Fuck!" You yelp, and Eddie stops attacking your flesh to look at you.

"Sorry, you alright?" He asks, worried that he went too far.

"I'm okay, just wasn't expecting it." You stand up, letting your dress fall to the floor. You step out of it, standing only in your lace panties and high heels. You're about to step out of your shoes, when Eddie stops you.

"No, keep those on. They're really hot." He says sheepishly, stroking your thigh with the back of his hand. "Lay down for me, baby." You do as he says, and he gets off the end of the bed. He's still fully clothed, slowly stripping off his layers. You lay back on the pillows, watching Eddie reveal himself to you. He takes off his shoes first, then his jackets. He pulls his t-shirt over his head, exposing his tattoos. You drink in his form, taking in his slim yet toned arms and chest. There's a trail of hair below his belly button that disappears into his jeans, you bite your lip as you devour him with your eyes. He undoes his belt, and unzips his pants. He pulls them down, leaving only his boxers behind. He climbs onto the bed, crawling over to you.

"Hey there, handsome." You say to him as he leans over you, taking his lips onto yours. You run your hands along his arms, down his chest. You drag your nails on his skin, and he moans at the contact. One of Eddie's hands grabs your tit, squeezing it firmly. The other rubs your pussy through your panties. You whine into his mouth, savoring every sensation he gives you. He continues to stroke your folds, feeling how wet you are through the thin fabric.

Eddie pulls your panties down, tossing them to the floor. You spread your legs for him, and his fingers are back on your cunt to fully feel you. He rubs circles around your clit, before putting a finger inside you. You moan loudly down his throat, your back arching off the bed. He pumps in and out of you teasingly, curling his finger just so to make you melt. He adds another, picking up the pace. You break away from his lips, letting out a stream of curses and moans as he works you up. "You like that, Y/N? Shit, you're so wet for me." He says quietly, looking deep into your eyes.

"It feels so good, Eddie. But I think I want something else." You reply, palming his dick through his boxers. His breath hitches as you stroke him, you can feel him growing in your hand. He pulls his last layer off, letting his cock spring free. You quickly grab it again, working him in your palm. You both wind each other up, setting the room on fire. You're breathing heavily, anticipation building within you rapidly. You want him inside you so badly, you almost want to scream. You look at him, stroking his cheek with your free hand. He meets your eyes, mirroring your desperate expression with his own. "Fuck me, Eddie. Please." Your grip tightens on his length, making him groan.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He says with a smirk, taking his fingers out of you. You whine at the loss, watching him suck your arousal off his digits. He moans at the taste, making you shudder. "You taste so good, Y/N." He says, moving your hand off of his cock. He rubs it against your folds, pushing you even further. You both moan at his actions, your blood begins to boil inside your veins. You're so turned on, you can barely stand it.

"Eddie, please stop teasing. I can't take it, I need you inside me." You practically beg, hating how needy you sound.

"I love it when you beg, baby." He purrs, slowly pushing his dick into your pussy. He mutters swears under his breath  at how tight you are, and you moan as he fills you up. He gives you a moment to adjust, and you wrap your legs around him to signal that you're ready. He pulls out slowly, before slamming back into you.

"Eddie!" You cry out. He hit your g spot perfectly, and you want him to do it again. He repeats the action, knocking the wind out of you. Eddie thrusts into you a third time, making you dig your heels into his back. He groans, stopping for a moment. He grabs your legs, bending them over your stomach, your knees going around his shoulders. He rams into you again, making you scream at the new angle.

"Is this comfortable for you, baby? I don't want to hurt you." Eddie says, concerned about your enjoyment over anything else.

"Yes, it's really good. Please, keep going." You pant out, enjoying the compromising position he's put you in. He gently kisses you again, before taking on a harsh pace as he moves inside you. "Jesus, fuck." You mutter out, feeling a knot of pleasure tying itself inside you. Eddie relentlessly hits your sweet spot with every thrust, pushing you closer to your orgasm.

He keeps eye contact with you while saying the filthiest things you've ever heard. "You're so fucking wet and tight for me. You're taking me so well, such a good little slut." Your bodies slick over with sweat, smelling of booze and lust. His words fuel the fire, driving you closer to the edge. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this, to have you moaning underneath me while I fuck you into next week."

"Do you dream about me? Or think about me while touching yourself?" You ask as you moan, you've never been with a man who's so vocal before. But you fucking love it.

"All the time, Y/N. I like to picture you on your knees, or riding me. Fuck, nothing compares to the real thing, though." He groans, feeling his own high quickly approaching. "I'm guessing you haven't done the same, but that's alright." Eddie can't help sounding a little disappointed about that idea.

"I wouldn't say that, Eds. You may have made an appearance in the occasional dream." You slyly smile at him as he continues to pound into you. His eyes widen, in disbelief.

"Oh, really?" He asks, unconvinced.

"Yes, really. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't also occasionally fantasize about you, either. Although I was kinda awful to your face, nobody can resist a bad boy, Eddie." You pant out, feeling the knot growing tighter. Your hands ball up the blankets beneath you, trying to hold on to something.

"God, you're unbelievable. You're lucky you're pretty, and that I'm already balls deep inside you." He chuckles, wanting to go even faster. He's tempted to make you pay for making him feel like you hated him when you didn't.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. Really, but it's not like you didn't do or say anything back to me. But if it'll make you feel better, you can fuck me even harder. Punish me for being such a bitch to you, if you want." You can't believe the things either of you are saying, this all feels like a surreal dream. But clearly you both feel strongly for each other, despite how stubborn you seem to be.

He grins at you, eager to take you up on your offer. He pulls out of you a moment. "Get on your hands and knees, Y/N." You flip over, putting your ass in the air for him as you lean on your elbows. He smacks your butt roughly, and you moan at the sting. "Fuck, you're such a dirty whore." Eddie grabs your hips, shoving his cock back into you.

"Oh, fuck." You choke out the words, holding onto the pillow for dear life as Eddie drills into you even harder than before. The slapping of skin fills the room, harmonizing with both your moans and dirty words. He's going at an almost inhuman pace, chasing your highs like his life depends on it. His balls slap against you, you swear you can feel them tightening. "Keep going, Eddie. I'm so close, make me cum." You beg him again, not caring about your desperate tone anymore.

"You're such a needy little slut, begging like that. Maybe I should stop, just to spite you." He slows down a little, threatening to deny you when you're so close to the edge.

"Eddie, please! Don't stop, I'm so close. Fuck me harder, until I can't walk if you want. I don't care, just for the love of God, don't stop." You're almost crying, he's gotten you so hot and bothered that if he stops now you might just implode.

"Shit, you're seriously so fucking hot right now. I'll give you what you want, baby. Be a good girl for me." He speeds up again, catching you by surprise. You can barely speak, thoughts can't form in your mind anymore. The only thing that matters right now is having Eddie make you cum, and for you to do the same for him. The knot inside you is threatening to snap, and your moans only get louder. Eddie reaches a hand down to your clit, rubbing it in quick circles. "Cum for me, darling." He says, his words causing you to topple over the edge.

"Oh, God!" You yell as your orgasm rips through you. Your legs shake uncontrollably, and your walls clamp down on Eddie's cock. He groans as he's pushed over the edge too, his load filling you up in thick white ropes. He keeps thrusting through your highs, prolonging the stars in your vision. After a few more thrusts, he stops moving, panting loudly. You both collapse onto the bed, his body laying on top of yours with his dick still inside you. You lay here a moment, trying to catch your breath.

"Well, that was fun." Eddie blurts out. You both laugh, your bodies shuddering from your sweat turning cold. He gets off of you, pulling out slowly. You wince at the motion, feeling sore. "You okay? I didn't go too hard, did I?" He strokes your back, worried that he's hurt you.

You roll over slowly, looking in his eyes. "I'm okay, Eddie. I asked you to go harder, didn't I? Sure, I'll be a bit bruised and stumbling out of here, but it's what I wanted." You smile reassuringly at him, poking his chest playfully.

"If you say so, Y/N. Shit, and they say I'm a freak." You share a laugh again. "Let me help you get dressed." You sit up at the end of the bed, watching him pick up your panties and your dress. You slip the lace underwear back on, hissing at the soreness between your legs. "I really did a number on you, huh?" He says in a guilt-laced tone. Whether you asked for it or not, he feels bad for being so rough with you. "I'm sorry, princess." Your eyes snap to his, your brows knitted together.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, I promise. I appreciate the concern, though." You sigh, unable to keep looking at him when he's got that expression on his face. He helps you stand up, but you stumble in your heels.

"Here, take those off. You don't wanna break an ankle." He slips the shoes off your feet, setting them on the bed. He helps you up again, assisting you at stepping back into your dress. He pulls it up your body, zipping it tight. "There we are, all pretty again." He smiles at you, holding your hand. Eddie sits you down again, redressing himself.

You pick at your fingers, worried about what this means for you both. Shit, it might not even mean anything. This is probably a one-time thing for you, just two ships passing in the night. You doubt he wants to see you again. You're just his revenge fuck, nothing more. "So, I'm guessing you don't want to see me again. Or want me to tell anyone about this."

He finishes getting dressed, looking at you curiously. "When did I say that?"

"I mean, you didn't. I just assumed." You shrug your shoulders, sighing.

"Hm, I thought we'd learned our lesson about assumptions after...you know." He says, gesturing at the bed.

"Old habits die hard, I guess." You chuckle wryly, still looking down. You feel Eddie sit beside you, his arm going around your shoulders. His other hand lifts your chin up to face him.

"Y/N, if I haven't made it clear already, I really like you. And it seems you also like me. So, quit being a little shit and give me your phone number, ‘kay?" He smirks at you, pulling a pen out of his jacket pocket. He hands it to you, and holds out his palm for you to write on.

"You sure know how to sweet-talk a woman." You giggle, rolling your eyes. You take the pen from him, holding his hand tightly as you write on it. "Oh, by the way, Steve Harrington is my roommate. So if he picks up, don't go thinking I'm sleeping around!"

"Steve, huh? I can't say I'm not a little threatened by that."

"No, no. He's just a friend, like a brother, really. He actually ditched me to talk to some slut, he was supposed to bring me a drink from the kitchen. But I ended up with you instead." You tease.

"Damn, well I'd never ditch you, Y/N. But it's good to know I won't have any competition with him." He leans in to kiss you, cupping your cheek as his plush lips touch yours. You kiss him back, your mouths moving against each other gently. The air between you is different now. It's no longer saturated with lust, but with the promise of a budding romance. Who would've thought that two people who seemed to hate each other could evolve into passionate lovers?

Pt. 2/2

After the party, Eddie calls you as he's itching to see you again. He takes you to a nice restaurant, and you have some extra risky fun for dessert…

You and Eddie break away from your kiss to breathe, smiling kindly at each other. You don't want to leave, but it sounds like the party has died down outside, and Steve is probably searching for you. "Sounds like we missed the rest of the party." You say quietly, holding Eddie's hand.

"We had plenty of fun on our own, Y/N. Parties aren't all they're cracked up to be, well, except this time." He's apprehensive to stand, knowing you'll have to go home soon. But it's getting late, and he figures Steve is waiting for you, worried you'd gotten snatched by a creep. "C'mon, angel. It's time to go, I'll escort you to find Harrington." You both stand together, still holding hands. You carry your heels in your free hand, and Eddie leads you to the door.

"Hopefully Steve didn't leave me here." You say, wondering what he's been up to this whole time. Maybe he hooked up with that girl from the kitchen.

"Well, if he did I can always drive you home, Y/N." Eddie replies as his hand turns the knob. He pulls the door open, and the two of you are greeted with loud cheers and whooping. As many people as could fit in the hallway outside the room are packed like sardines to catch you in the act. Your eyes widen, and your cheeks turn a bright crimson. You look to Eddie, mentally asking him what's going on and what to do. But he has no answer for you, just a nervous smile.

"Way to go, Munson!" A random guy cheers in the crowd.

"Can I have a turn with her now?" Another asks, drawing roaring laughter from the onlookers. So many pairs of eyes are staring at you, you want to run and hide. This is so embarrassing, but your feet are glued to the carpet beneath you.

"Y/N, come on." A mysterious hand grabs your arm, pulling you and Eddie through the mass of bodies. You realize it's Steve coming to your rescue, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You hold tight to Eddie to make sure he isn't left behind, trying your best to ignore the onslaught of nasty comments everyone's making to you and about you. "Get out of the way!" Steve calls out as he pushes a clear path for you.

"You're such a buzzkill, Harrington!" Another drunk asshole shouts. You reach the stairs, luckily they're mostly clear so you can travel down them quickly and safely. Steve keeps pulling you all the way to the front door, out into the cool air of the night. He finally lets you free from his grasp, turning to you.

"I see you took my advice, Y/N. I knew you had it in you!" He gushes, proud of you embracing your inner slut.

"Yeah, yeah. I will admit though, I don't think I want it to be a one-time thing, Steve." You try to whisper to him, but it's a bit difficult for Eddie to not hear you when you're still holding his hand in an iron grip.

"I can hear you, ya know. Plus, I have no intention of letting you go, especially now that I have your phone number." He flashes his palm with the digits scrawled on his flesh. He grins slyly, teasing you again.

"Keep it up, freak. I'll lick it off and then you'll be shit outta luck." You retort, sticking out your tongue to emphasize your point. He just scoffs at you.

"Too late, I've already memorized it. But you'd better put that back in your mouth, unless you intend to use it." He leans into you real close, just about to try to snap his teeth at you.

"Alright, that's enough. Cool it before you make me barf." Steve scrunches his face at the two of you, unamused by your antics.

"Aw, is Stevie jealous?" Eddie taunts, not quite done being a smartass.

"Not at all, dickwad. It's just late, and I'd like to get some sleep at some point. Y/N, are you coming with me or staying with him?" Steve asks, he always gets grouchy when he's tired.

"Relax, Steve. I'll go home with you, just wait in the car for me. I'll be there in a minute." You look at him purposefully, trying to hint at him that you want to say goodbye, privately. He thankfully picks up on it, nodding and going to his car to wait for you. Once he's out of earshot, you turn to Eddie. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, getting real close. "Hey." You say quietly.

"Hey." He replies, his hands going to your waist. "I guess this is Goodnight then, hm?" He asks, smiling although disappointed that the night has come to an end.

"Yeah, it is. But you've got my number, you can call me anytime, baby. And I hope you do, cuz I really wanna see you again." You raise your knee to graze his crotch to emphasize your words. He groans at your touch, gripping you harder.

"Damn, if this is the way you say goodbye, I can't wait to see how you say hello." He closes the gap between you, kissing you deeply. You're feeling warm again, despite the fall air nipping at your flesh. Your mouths move against each other languidly, tongues doing the tango. You wish you could stay like this forever, his lips are so soft and plush, and they make you feel safe and warm. But Steve has other ideas, honking loudly at you. You break away, startled by the horn.

"Well, that's my cue to leave. But please, call me. Then I can show you exactly how I say hello." You peck his lips again, backing away. "Goodnight, Eddie. I'll see you again soon, I'm sure."

"You definitely will. Get some sleep, Y/N. And do me a favor and dream about me?" He smirks again, his hands going behind his back.

"It's a date." You reply, giggling as you walk to the car. You turn away from Eddie, pulling open Steve's passenger door. "That was a little rude, Steve." You say to him, not really that bothered by it.

"Sorry, my uh...hand slipped." He says groggily. You roll your eyes, not buying his shit excuse for one second. "So, you gonna date the freak?" He asks, a wee bit too concerned about your personal life.

"Yes, well... I'm not sure if he wants to date. He might just want sex, which I don't mind, he's very good at it." You shrug, glancing out the window.

"Ugh, gross. I don't need to hear that. But he'd be an idiot to just have you as a fuck-buddy." He glances at you, concerned that you're unsure where you stand with Eddie. Steve is far from Munson's biggest fan, but he wants you to be happy.

"Thanks, Steve. I appreciate the concern. Did you end up fucking that girl you were with earlier?" You ask, the conversation had been so focused on you, you felt bad for not asking how his night went.

"Oh, nah. We just weren't clicking." He says, blowing off your question.

"Last time I checked, Steve, that's not the point of hooking up at a party. You don't have to 'click', as long as your junk can mush together correctly." His demeanor is confusing you, he never turns down a lay. "Are you alright, dude?" You ask as he puts the car into drive.

"I'm fine!" He snaps, startling you. He sighs, feeling guilty for his outburst. "Sorry, I'm fine. I'm just...jealous, I guess." Your eyes widen, surprised by his confession. You're about to ask him to elaborate, when he keeps talking. "I'm just...struggling to find a connection with somebody. I thought I had one with Nancy, but she's with Jonathan now. And Robin is gay, as you know. I'm sick of hook-ups, and I'm worried that I'll never find my perfect person." Your heart breaks for him, wishing you could do more to help him.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm not meaning to throw my thing with Eddie -whatever that is- in your face. I know you'll find somebody worthy of you soon enough. You're a great guy, Steve. You're kind, and funny, and you care a lot about those around you. She's out there somewhere, you just haven't found her yet." He nods in agreement, smiling weakly at you. "Cheer up, buttercup. You always have your friends to support you. Now, let's go home, I can hear my pillow calling to me." You laugh, and he joins you. The mood lightens inside the vehicle, and you spend the rest of the drive joking around like you always do.

When you get back to the apartment, you don't even bother to take off your dress, or makeup. The second your head hits the pillow, you're out like a light. You wake up the next morning to the sound of the phone ringing, groaning as your head pounds from last night's activities. You didn't drink that much, but alcohol always manages to give you a headache the next day. You push yourself off the bed, wincing at the dull pain between your legs. Steve’s left for his shift at Family Video already, leaving you alone on this fine Saturday. You try to make it to the phone in the living room, but you miss it just as the final ring blares into your ears.

You slump onto the couch, still wearing your outfit from last night, makeup smudged all over your face. You're about to fall back to sleep, when the phone rings once again to startle you. You grab it from its cradle, straining to speak. "H-hello?" You manage to croak out, clearing your throat.

"Hey, Y/N. It's Eddie, you doing alright?" Eddie asks, concerned that you sound sick.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, hey, Eddie. Um, I'm fine, I just woke up. What can I do for you?" You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers, trying to fully join the waking world.

"Oh, did I disturb your beauty sleep? I'm sorry, princess." He says sympathetically, though you're not sure how sorry he actually is.

"It's alright, I probably slept too late anyways. Haven't even looked at a clock yet." You glance at the one hanging in the kitchen, 11:30am, Jesus christ. "Fuck, it's late. I knocked out as soon as I got home. You really wore me out, I'm still feeling it actually.” You adjust uncomfortably on the couch, unable to sit properly. He chuckles at your last comment.

"You poor thing. Well, I was calling to see if you're free tonight. But only if you're up for it." Eddie can never resist a tease.

"You just can't get enough of me, can you, Munson?" You reply cheekily, loving the idea of seeing him again.

"'Fraid not, but can you blame me? You're the most beautiful, sexy woman I've ever seen. So, whattaya say, Y/N?" He sounds so sure you'll say yes, he sure is a smug one isn't he?

"No." You say simply, taking him by surprise. "At least, not until you tell me exactly what you had in mind. Are you looking for a fuck, or a date?" He scoffs at your bold move, he's truly met his match.

"Obviously a date, sweetheart. What kind of man do you take me for?" His faux offense makes you giggle. "I was thinking...Enzo's? The yuppie Italian place?" You gasp at his suggestion, surprised he wants to take you somewhere so nice.

"That sounds great! Wait, isn't there a dress code? Do you even own nicer clothes, Eddie?" You poke fun at him once again, earning a hearty laugh from the other end.

"Believe it or not, I do. I'm not offended by your surprise, though. I assure you I'm just full of them. I'll pick you up at 7, and bring your appetite, darling." His emphasis on certain words sends a chill up your spine as his voice flows directly into your ear. It'll prove quite difficult to keep your hands above the table, so to speak. You give him your address, anticipation for this evening already building inside you. "I'll see you tonight, baby."

"Yeah, see you tonight, Eds." You say quietly before hanging up. You shriek in excitement, eager to tell Steve about your date. You pick the phone up again, dialing the video store. Robin picks up, grilling you about the party last night. Steve must have told her everything he knew, she sadly missed out due to having a project to finish for anatomy. She asks a few questions about Eddie, how he was in bed, etc. You tell her whatever she wants to know, before relaying to her that you have a date with the metalhead tonight. She screams into the phone, and you hear Steve in the background asking what's going on. She tells him about the date, and he sounds sad about it. Perhaps it was better that Robin picked up instead of Steve. She asks if you wanna speak to him, but you decline. You feel guilty for even thinking to let him know about it, it'd be like rubbing it in his face.

You hang up the phone again, deciding to take a nice hot bath to wash last night off of you. Your eyelashes keep sticking together from the leftover mascara, and your hair is a tangled mess. Hopefully you can manage to sort yourself out in the next seven hours. You run the bath, pouring in some soaking salts you got from your Mom this past Christmas. You brush your teeth at the sink as water fills the tub, observing how truly fucked you look right now. It's like someone took a windshield wiper to your face, dragging your makeup across one side of it. You groan, turning away from the horror in the mirror once you spit out your toothpaste.

Your body slips into the hot water nice and easy, you moan as it soothes your aching muscles. You're hoping this is enough to help you recover for a potential round two with Eddie, although you know this won't magically fix the problem. You make a mental note to take some aspirin once you get out of the tub, and you definitely need to eat something. You submerge your head under the water, scrubbing away the remnants of the party from your skin. You stay under as long as you can, trying to scrape off as much old makeup as possible.

A couple hours go by, and you've finished your bath, taken some painkillers, and managed to eat a light lunch. Now you're sitting in your room, surrounded by all your dresses splayed out on the bed as you struggle to pick one for tonight. Your hair lays damp at your shoulders, and you've been sitting in a towel this whole time. You hear Steve coming home from his shift, it's around 3pm now. "Hey, Y/N. I'm home, brought some new releases for the week." He calls from the living room, you hear the clatter of videotapes being set on the coffee table.

"Okay!" You call back, unable to focus on anything but the clothes piled around you. Steve's footsteps tap down the hallway, and he knocks on your door. "Come in, dingus." He enters the room, eyes widening at the sight before him.

"What happened here? Looks like your closet threw up." You glare at him, and he puts his arms up defensively. "Sorry."

"I can't figure out what to wear. Eddie's taking me to Enzo's tonight." You sigh loudly, stressing yourself out.

"Oh, that's nice! I'm glad he's going to take you on a real date, as opposed to...ya know." Steve speaks awkwardly, a sour mood threatening to taint his mind. But he decides to buck up and help you out. He scans the choices you have laid out, his eyes falling on one in particular. "Go with that one, no man can resist a woman in red." He smiles cheekily, flashing reassuring eyes at you as he points out his pick.

You look it over, seeing what Steve is saying. "Thanks, Steve! And you're okay with me going out with him, right? You sounded sad when I talked to Robin earlier." His face falls, he hadn't meant for you to hear that.

"Shit, I didn't think you heard me. And what are you asking me permission for? I'm not in charge of you, alright? I want you to go with him and have a good time, really." He claps a hand on your bare shoulder, trying to drive home the fact that above all else, he's your friend.

"Okay. But I promise not to gloat too hard about how it went later. I wouldn't want to depress you any further." You place your hand over his, looking up at him. He tenses at your touch, but relaxes after a moment. You share a kind smile, patting his hand. "Thanks again, Stevie. You're a good friend. Now, get out unless you wanna see me naked." You laugh, and he retorts back as usual.

"Well...if you're offering." He quips, pretending to yank at your towel.

"STEVE! Get out, you pervert!" You stand up, pushing Steve backwards out of your room. He doesn't protest, letting you lead him as he laughs. Once he's in the hall again, you shut the door and lock it. God, he needs a girlfriend. You clean up the mess on your bed, looking closely at the red dress Steve helped you pick out. It's made entirely of leather, and just low-cut enough in the chest to show off the girls without them falling out. The material hugs your waist and ass just right, with a zipper running down the back. Steve is absolutely right, this one will drive Eddie wild.

The clock reads 6:55, and you've been all set to go for over an hour. Your makeup and hair are perfect, you've got your dress and shoes on. And your purse dangles at your side. Everything is going according to plan, all that's left is for Eddie to show up. You're pacing nervously in the living room, your heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Steve's heating up a TV dinner for himself, watching the time tick down on the microwave. "You need to relax, Y/N. You keep pacing like that, you'll carve a dip into the floor." Steve says to you absent-mindededly, he's never seen you so nervous about a date. He wanted to be sympathetic, but the sound of your shoes is getting on his nerves.

You stop, plopping down onto the couch while crossing your arms. "Sorry. I'm just anxious about seeing Eddie. I mean, I'm excited, but I've never had anyone take me to Enzo's before." You're about to bite your lip, but you stop yourself as that'll smear your lipstick. You pick at your fingers instead, careful not to chip your nail polish. The clock now reads 6:58, you roll your eyes at it. Steve sits next to you, gingerly placing his dinner on his lap before turning on the TV.

"Everything will be fine, Y/N. He'll be here any minute, I'm sure. He's probably just as nervous as you, more than you even." He gives you a look, begging you to calm down and stop bobbing your knee. You take the hint, putting your hand on it to keep it still. Steve flips through channels, his meal becoming cold as he debates what show to settle on. By the time he picks, the time is 7:10. Eddie's late.

"What if he doesn't show up, Steve? He could very well be getting back at me for being so awful in high school." Your stomach churns at the idea of being stood up, you can't help wondering if all of this is a big joke to Eddie. Steve's eyes flare into anger, snapping to look at you.

"Don't say that, dude. The way he looked at you last night? He's either in love, or a ridiculously talented actor. Though I doubt he is, if he stands you up, I'll beat his ass." He says sternly, meaning every word.

"Oh, yeah, like you could win a fight! And against Eddie? I don't think so." You can see it now, Steve and Eddie duking it out. Steve could land maybe one hit, but Eddie would knock his lights out in no time.

"Okay, rude! But I don't think it'll be necessary, Y/N. He probably can't even read a clock properly." You elbow him at his comment, trying not to smile. "Ow! Jeez, you're mean when you're worried about a guy ditching you."

"He's not stupid, Steve. And honestly, if he did set me up, I'll probably kick his ass myself." You let out a frustrated sigh, daring to look at the clock once more. 7:15. Where the hell is he? You try to focus on the show that's on, but your mind keeps going back to your special little metalhead. You picture him laughing it up with his friends on how he played you so good. Getting you into bed, and pretending to ask you on a date. Only to stand you up so you see how it feels to be treated poorly. Maybe you deserved it.

You're about to give up and crawl back into bed, when the clock strikes 7:20 and you finally hear a knock on the door. Your head perks up, glancing at Steve. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go get him!" He nudges you with his shoulder, and you practically launch yourself from the couch. You run to the door, about to yank it off its hinges when you stop yourself. You take a deep breath, shaking your nerves out and smoothing your dress. And you pull the door open to see Eddie leaning in the doorway.

He looks so different, and sexy as all hell. He's wearing a dark red dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a couple of the top buttons left undone. Black slacks adorn his legs, with suspenders to match. His hair is tied back in a thick ponytail, and he's got shiny black shoes on. He's still wearing his signature rings and necklace, but would he really be Eddie without them?

"Sorry I'm late, baby. But I hope these will make up for it." He says smoothly, pulling a beautiful bouquet of roses from behind his back.

"Thank you so much, they're gorgeous! Let me just put them in some water, and then we'll get going. Come in for a second." You quickly walk to the kitchen, pulling out a simple vase to fill up. Eddie walks inside apprehensively, standing with his hands behind his back and teetering on his heels and toes. He notices Steve on the couch, who's eyeing him closely.

"Hey there, Harrington." He nods to Steve, quickly averting his gaze.

"Munson." Steve replies simply, unamused at Eddie's failure at punctuality. He takes a bite from his dinner, eyes not leaving Eddie's general direction. You see him glaring from the kitchen, gasping at him being so rude.

"Knock it off, Steve! Or I'll shove that fork down your fucking throat!" You shout at him, and he dips his head sheepishly. Eddie snickers, trying to stifle his laugh. You walk back over to Eddie once the flowers are situated, and it's here that he finally gets a good look at you. His eyes nearly pop out of his head when he takes in your form. The red of the dress perfectly compliments your smooth skin, and he can't help staring at your tits on display for him. He gulps, struggling to speak. You blush at his obvious appreciation of just how hot you look, taking his hand to snap him out of his trance. "You clean up well, Munson." You say cheekily, looking deep into his eyes.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Y/N. Shall we get going? We have some lost time to make up for." He tries to play it cool, but his stumbling of words blows the image away. You nod, opening the door again for the two of you to step out into the night.

"Bye lovebirds, have fun!" Steve calls to you, enamored by Wheel of Fortune.

"I'll be back late, Steve. Don't wait up." You reply, giggling as you shut the door. Eddie leads you to his van, opening the passenger door for you. "Such a gentleman." You tease, earning a light smack on your ass.

"In some ways, darling. Not so much in others, but you already know that." He winks at you before closing your door, jogging around to the other side. He climbs in, pulling his door shut clumsily. Eddie glances at you, seemingly nervous. "Okay, confession time." Your eyebrow quirks at him, curious what he means by that. "I wasn't late, I was actually a little early. But I spent...I dunno, thirty minutes trying to work up the courage to knock on your door." He laughs, shaking his head at how silly he feels.

"Really? Well, I was worried you'd stood me up. You know, to get back at me for high school." You say sheepishly, looking down at your lap.

"I promise, sweetheart, I would never do such a thing. That shit's in the past, let's just focus on the here and now, deal?" He holds his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it. You do, squeezing tightly as you nod at him. "Alright, I better get this old bitch started. Wouldn't want us to lose our table." He lets you go, putting the van into gear to take you to the restaurant.

You arrive just in time for the reservation Eddie made, 7:30. He holds your hand the whole way inside, and while the waiter leads you to the table. You're about to sit down, when he goes behind you to pull out your chair for you. Damn, he's got the chivalry thing down pat. "Thank you, Eds." You smile as he pushes you in, blushing at him treating you so well. He takes a seat across from you, consciously forcing himself not to slouch in his chair. The waiter comes by with glasses of water, asking what you'd like to drink. "I'll have a dirty martini, please." You say politely to the waiter.

"I'll have the same, thanks." Eddie says nervously, he's clearly uncomfortable in this environment. You'd be lying if you said you aren't as well, you just know how to hide it better. The waiter leaves to retrieve your beverages, and Eddie looks to you anxiously. "So, what exactly did I just agree to drink?"

"I'm honestly not sure, I just heard it on TV once. Sounded grown up, I guess." You can't help giggling, feeling so childish for saying that. Eddie chuckles back, holding his hand out across the table. You put your hand in his, letting him stroke your fingers. "Believe me, I'm just as lost in a place like this as you are. Let's help each other figure out what we want to eat before he comes back, hm?" You open your menus, automatically lost at the names of everything. They're all in Italian, though the descriptions are in english. You both decide to go the easy route and order steak, quickly trying to learn the correct pronunciation as the waiter returns with your drinks.

"Are you ready to order?" The waiter asks, placing your cocktails onto the tablecloth. He's been eyeing the two of you closely, especially Eddie. It seems you don't fit in enough for the staff's liking, their noses trained at the ceiling as they speak to you condescendingly.

Screw ordering in Italian, they'll know damn well what you mean in English. "Yes, I'll have the New York Strip steak with mashed potatoes and steamed corn, please." You're exuding confidence as you speak, though on the inside you're shaking like a leaf. Eddie's eyes bug out as your efforts to sound fancy go out the window, but he picks up on where your head's at. He smirks at you, and you wink back at him.

The waiter is less than enthused, probably expecting every Midwestern asshole that comes in here to struggle to read from the menu for a good laugh. He looks to Eddie, positive that he'll get his sick satisfaction from your date. "And for you, sir?"

"I'll have the same, thank you very much." Eddie replies, an unassuming smile plastered on his face. The waiter frowns, accepting the fact that you've denied him the feeling of superiority over you.

"Very good, it should be ready shortly. Please, let me know if you need anything else." You both nod agreeably at him, and he storms off.

"Nice work, Y/N! You really got under that tight-ass's skin." He laughs, highly impressed by you. The two of you feel much more comfortable now, having taken away the snooty energy of the place. Eddie takes a sip of his drink, making an odd face after he swallows.

"Is it bad?" You ask, before tasting yours. It's definitely strong, and very briny. You don't hate it, but you'd much rather have a vodka cranberry or something. "Well, I wouldn't order it again, but it's not terrible." You decide to down the rest, that way you can get something else.

"Jesus, Y/N. Take it easy." He says teasingly, before mimicking you to finish his own drink. Your glasses sit empty for a while, and you're getting a light buzz. Feeling bold, you slip your foot out of your shoe, lifting it across the underside of the table to graze Eddie's crotch. It takes him by surprise, causing his knee to bang against the wood. It's rather loud as the silverware and glasses bounce a bit, making the other patrons look at you. He waves them away, shooting you a warning look.

"What's wrong, baby? Can't hold your liquor?" You ask, feigning innocence as you continue to rub against him beneath the table. Luckily the cloth goes almost completely to the floor, concealing your actions. He moans quietly, and you feel him hardening inside his pants.

"You're sooooo gonna pay for this later." He says playfully, already planning how to get back at you.

"Oh, I'm counting on it." You grin slyly at him, pressing a little harder. He holds back a groan, wishing he could take you right now in front of everyone. Once the food arrives, you put your foot away. You'll behave until dinner's over, well, mostly. When the waiter walks away again, you lean forward a little, subtly squeezing your tits together with your arms as you cut into your steak.

Eddie takes notice of what you're doing, almost choking on the bite of steak he just took. "Fuck, are you trying to kill me, Y/N?" He says, coughing through his words. Once again, all eyes are on you. You hide your face sheepishly, trying not to laugh at the whole situation. The onlookers return to their meals after a moment, scowling at you.

"Sorry, Eds. I'm just a little eager to get to dessert." You lick your lips salaciously, bringing a piece of meat to your mouth. You pluck it from your fork with your teeth, maintaining eye contact with Eddie the entire time.

"All in good time, darling. You were expecting a real date after all, right?" He looks at you questioningly, wondering if you're just trying to give him what you think he wants.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm nervous, which apparently makes me horny." You roll your eyes at yourself, sighing in an attempt to calm down.

"Don't get me wrong, Y/N. I'm very flattered, but there's no rush. No expectations or anything, 'kay? Let's enjoy our time, get to know each other better. And it's certainly fun to take up space where we clearly aren't wanted, I love making these waiters squirm." He chuckles lowly, highly amused that everyone in here wants so badly to throw him out on his ass. But they can't, because he's a paying customer just like everyone else.

"Very true, they look so funny when they glare." You giggle, taking your time as you eat. You and Eddie spend what feels like hours just talking, asking each other meaningful questions. He's great at conversation, and surprisingly intellectual at times. When the plates are empty, and a couple more drinks disappear, the bill comes around. Eddie doesn't let you see it, eagerly putting a decent amount of cash into the check presenter. "I'm gonna freshen up before we leave, Eds, I'll just be a minute." You stand up, taking your bag as you leave the table. You make a beeline for the ladies' room, going to the mirror to check your lipstick.

The door swings open, and you think nothing of it. Until you hear Eddie's voice speaking to you. "Are you ready for dessert, angel?" He clicks the lock, making sure nobody will interrupt you. He walks over to you, pressing his body against yours before kissing your neck. You feel his erection poking into your ass, and arousal begins to gather between your legs.

"What are you doing in here, Eddie? We could get into trouble." You giggle, not really caring about being caught.

"It'll be fine, baby. Just let me make you feel good." He licks the length of your throat, and you lock eyes with him in the reflection. You moan loudly, his hand snaking around to the front of your dress. He gropes your tits, before turning you to face him. His lips meet yours hungrily, and his hands continue to fondle your chest. You lean against the sink, gripping Eddie's shoulders for balance. His lips leave yours, traveling down your neck, to the valley between your breasts. He nips and sucks your flesh, desperate to mark you as his.

"Oh, Eddie." You sigh blissfully, the booze amplifying his every touch. He stops attacking your tits, lifting you onto the counter. He lowers a hand between your legs, gasping when he realizes you're not wearing any underwear.

"No panties, huh? Such a dirty girl." He grins, kissing you again roughly while running his fingers between your folds. You moan into his mouth, spreading your legs wider for him to put his fingers inside you. He slips them in easily, and immediately pumps them in and out of your cunt rapidly. Your breath catches in your throat, overwhelmed by how fucking hot this all is. At any moment one of the staff could come knocking on the door as patrons complain that the bathroom is locked.

"Eddie." You break away from his lips, almost gasping for air. "I need you, now." You practically beg, grabbing his stiff cock through his pants.

"You sure you don't want me to taste you first? There's so much I want to do to you, but I've barely had a chance." He's almost disappointed, wanting to truly take his time to please you.

"I know, baby. I want that too, but we both know we don't exactly have time on our side here. There'll be other chances for that, but I want you inside me so badly. Please, before we get caught?" You keep palming him through his clothes, ramping him up.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He purrs, helping you stand before whipping you around. He presses on your back to have you lay against the counter, forcing you to watch yourself as he pushes your skirt up over your ass. He undoes his belt, and pulls his suspenders from his shoulders. Eddie pulls down his pants and boxers, freeing his aching cock. Precum drips from the head, and he spreads it around as he roughly strokes himself. His breath shudders, watching you observe him in the mirror.

You're so wet for him, anticipating his dick filling you up. He teases you first, rubbing himself against your glistening clit. You both moan at the sensation, watching each other's faces change. You're about to ask him to just fuck you already, when he unexpectedly rams his cock into your dripping entrance. "Eddie!" You cry out, gripping the edge of the sink as he pounds his hips against your ass. He slowly pulls out, before slamming back in. He hits your g spot just right, making you want to scream. He keeps going like this, waiting for you to ask for more. It proves difficult though, as every thrust scrambles the thoughts inside your head.

"You're so fuckin' sexy when you're like this, completely at my mercy." He groans, you're so tight and wet for him, it's unreal. Eddie's eyes want to roll to the back of his head, but he maintains his focus. His hands are gripping your hips in an iron hold, and your pelvis digs into the counter with every move he makes. He lowers his torso over yours, speaking into your ear. "If you want me to go faster, you're gonna have to beg for it." He licks your earlobe before biting it, drawing more noises from you.

"Please, baby. Fuck me faster, I need you." You whine, needing him to absolutely demolish you.

"Such a good little slut." He whispers, before snapping his hips into a punishing pace. You can't do anything but moan and cry out Eddie's name, watching his eyes never leave yours as he pierces you again and again. Many lewd noises leave his lips too, but he's still much more under control than you are. "Tell me how good it feels, angel." Eddie doesn't know why, but he wants you to tell him how and what you're feeling.

You struggle to speak, your body is electrified with every brush against your special spot. You want to do as he asks, but it's quite a challenge. You power through regardless, knowing your words will drive him mad. "You feel so good inside me, baby. Your cock hits all the right places, and you make me so wet." You confess to him, watching him lose a little bit of control. You smirk at this small victory, deciding to push him further. "There's nobody like you, Eddie. No one can make me cum like you can. Fuck me harder, I can take it." You're definitely enjoying this little game, watching one another in the mirror as you say the dirtiest things you can think of.

"Careful what you wish for, Y/N. Wouldn't wanna push you too far." Is he really trying to get you to chicken out?

"Believe me, when it's too far, I'll tell you. Now, go faster." You say through gritted teeth, pushing backwards against him to show just how much you want this.

"As you wish, princess." Eddie pounds into you even harder, your hips will certainly have bruises later. You moan so loudly, you're sure the whole restaurant has heard you. But you can't be bothered to give a shit, the pleasure building inside you matters so much more than potentially being thrown out.

"God, you feel so fuckin' good, Eddie. Keep going, just like that." Your words are so addictive to him, every syllable sending strikes of lightning through his body. He's sweating through his shirt, his skin on fire as he keeps plowing into you. Your high is quickly approaching, waves of bliss slowly washing over you. Your pussy starts to clench around Eddie's dick, letting him know just how close you are.

"I can feel you about to lose it, angel. Go ahead, make a mess all over my cock like a good little whore." Eddie smacks your ass, ripping a vulgar sound from your throat. The sting sends a shockwave to your core, pushing you closer to the edge. "You like that? Should I do it again?" He asks, really hoping you say yes. The sound you made almost made him cum right then and there.

"Yes, please!" You cry out, and he happily obliges. He makes contact with your other ass cheek, leaving you severely fucked-out for him. Your eyes bore into his, signaling that just one more will make you come undone.

"You gonna cum, baby? You want me to make you scream so loud the whole restaurant can hear you?" It's proving difficult for Eddie to keep up the pace, his thrusts are getting sloppy as his own orgasm threatens to take hold.

"Yes, God, yes!" He spanks you once again, and it's like you've toppled off a cliff. "Oh, God, oh, FUCK!" You scream, your body combusting from the inside out. Your legs tremble, and your cunt clamps down onto Eddie's length.

"Oh, shit." He chokes out, as his dick empties into your pulsating hole. He keeps thrusting, prolonging your high. You're almost crying, everything feels so fucking good. You can no longer stand on your own, Eddie holds you up as he progressively comes to a halt inside you. He collapses onto your back, his chest rising and falling heavily. Your pussy continues to grip him impulsively, almost refusing to let go. "You were such a good girl for me, Y/N." He says breathily, slowly standing upright to pull out of you. You both groan at how difficult it is, you're hugging him so tight within yourself. "Fuck, sweetheart. Gotta let me out, though it's tempting to stay inside you forever." He chuckles, eventually able to pull away. Your mixed release drips out of your cunt and onto the floor with a 'splat'. "Well, I guess that's a little present for the staff, hm?" You giggle weakly at his comment, unable to stand up straight.

"A little help, Eds? I feel like I'm made of pudding." He quickly pulls his pants back up, putting his suspenders in place. He pulls your dress back down where it belongs, lifting you up to wrap an arm around you. You sling your purse over your shoulder, and it's here that someone comes knocking on the bathroom door.

"Hello, we've had some complaints about somebody locking themselves in the bathroom. Please open the door and vacate the premises." You hear your waiter say on the other side of the door.

Eddie clicks the lock, letting them inside. "Sorry about that, my girlfriend got sick and needed my help. She gets very embarrassed about it, but it must have been something she ate." He says snarkily, leading you out of the bathroom. You pretend to almost throw up as you walk by the angry man, watching his eyes widen in fear.

"V-very well. Come along, before anyone sees you." He frantically leads the both of you to the door, trying to not draw any attention from the other customers. "I hope you feel better, Miss. Have a good evening." He shoos you and Eddie away, hoping to never see the two of you again.

Once you're in the clear, you both bust out laughing in the parking lot. You cannot believe you got away with fucking in a restaurant bathroom, and a fancy one no less. "Nice touch with the fake gagging, Y/N. You're definitely my kind of girl." Eddie holds you close, leaning in for a kiss. You happily meet him in the middle, able to stand mostly steady on your own now. Your lips mesh together tenderly, the warmth of your bodies fighting against the night air biting at your skin.

"And you're just the guy I've been looking for." You reply, snapping his suspenders playfully.

"Ouch!" Eddie says, clearly being sarcastic. "Play nice, Y/N."

"If tonight and the night before is any indication, I'm far from nice." You place your hands on Eddie's chest, moving them upwards seductively. You undo the next couple buttons on his shirt, exposing more of his chest to the cool air. You lower your head to his torso, licking all the way up his chest to his neck. He just watches you wordlessly, taken aback by how aroused you still seem to be. You can go round after round, rough ones too, and just keep begging for more. You bite his neck harshly, marking him as yours. He moans loudly, another tent already forming in his pants. You soothe the purple flesh with your warm tongue, lifting your head to speak in his ear. "So, what do you say, Eddie? You wanna go to round three with a freak like me?"

He's unsure what to say, all he knows is that he's just as hungry for more as you are. He looks at you, his breath fanning over your face. "I thought you'd never ask, sweetheart." He replies with his usual smartassery, leading you to his van to drive somewhere more secluded. If Eddie were a religious man, he'd think he just died and went to heaven.

The end.

[waxed-weathered-copper-bulb]

he seems like a great lawyer

[ID: A low resolution digital drawing of the Juppet from Hermitcraft holding up a welcome mat. It is square, and resembles a topographic map, with rainbow text in comic sans reading, in all lowercase, "inventory management is my passion". The Juppet is a light blue muppet-like creature with an orange nose, glasses, and long hair. The Juppet wears a teal button-up shirt and khaki pants, with dark brown shoes. One of the Juppet's legs is kicked in the air, in joy. Behind the Juppet, holding him up, is Joehills. Joehills is a white man with back-length hair, with the bottom portion dyed a bright green. He wears long, dangling earrings with small green glass panels on the end, green cat-eye sunglasses, a blue t-shirt over a long sleeved black-and-white shirt, as well as wrinkled genes. Both the Juppet and Joe are smiling. The background is a rough gradient of orange to purple. End ID]

[seconds-over-first]

Chapter One

warnings displayed on Masterlist post

Wide-brimmed sunglasses perched upon your nose, and a wide-brimmed hat shading the view of your face, there was no telling the target of your gaze. The couple walking their dog, a toddler perched upon the shoulders of their father? The food vendor across the street selling some kind of fruity umbrella drink? Perhaps the group of men not-so-subtly observing and monitoring you from afar.

You had to admire their tenacity. It wasn’t easy for them to blend in with the crowd—two as tall as a mountain, whilst the other two lingered by the vendor, sharing a lighter. Staring at you from under the brim of a hat, and the other over a tour guide pamphlet of the square. You wondered if he could even tell that it was upside down.

You couldn’t help but grin to yourself. It was nice to have admirers every so often—it kept things interesting. The branches had been quiet for some time. Curiously, not even a breeze seemed to be able to shake them up. How dull. How boring.

You sipped idly at a cup of coffee as you perused the paper—a scene out of some old-timey movie, really—not a care in the world as it would seem on the outside. Never mind the way your gloves covered the blood that no doubt stained your hands. The press of a pistol strapped to your thigh well hidden under a long, pleated skirt. The bitter taste of something poisonous on your tongue—an effect of so many such bitter words spoken over the years.

You chuckled when the man with the pamphlet finally seemed to realise that he’d been ‘reading’ it upside-down, and quickly righted it. Quite endearing, really. You doubted anyone else would have noticed, but it seemed to kick him in the shin, nonetheless.

It was a cool day. A good excuse for them to wear such thick fabrics. No doubt hiding tools of their own, or the wires of their earbuds. How obvious could they be, really. It was almost cute. The one in a knitted cap kept tugging uncomfortably at his—the one dressed in black didn’t even have corded ones. The two by the vendor’s stand did. The one with the hat only had one in.

The couple with their dog stopped at the stand, no doubt at the child’s persistence, and ordered her a small cone of something green. The vendor, no doubt in broken English, thanks them with a nod.

The man with the pamphlet doesn’t look away from you. The man with the hat watched the small family walk away. For the fun of letting them guess, you let your head tilt up to match the direction of your gaze, and you smile. He quickly looks down, no doubt pretending to be able to read the pamphlet. You can tell, by the slight crease of his brows, and the slight puff of his cheeks. How cute.

You flip to the next page of your paper.

-

tag list: @drenix004

[deluxewhump]

Gameday

Early/middle-ish timeline Z2. Zee is taken to a football game and left out in extreme heat.

CW: BBU, deliberate neglect, collared, tied, overheating, heat exhaustion, alcohol, complicit caretaker

It wasn’t until Sunday that Alex would learn all the details of what happened the previous afternoon. He’d been with Claire all day on Saturday, until he left to go to the game. It was August— the start of football season. Fall classes started Monday, and he’d had Claire on his mind lately. He hadn’t seen much of her over the summer, but she seemed as eager to meet back up as he was.

Later, he told himself that was why Zee hadn’t been on his mind at all that day. It didn’t make him feel better.

He didn’t notice that Zee wasn’t there when he stopped off for a change of clothes at the house. He decided to leave his car and Uber, giving him free rein to drink.

He got to the stadium twenty minutes before the game was set to start, the Panthers versus New Sovereignty. It was nearing ninety eight degrees without so much as a gentle breeze to alleviate the oppressive heat. The sun beat down on his head the moment he stepped out of the car, and he could feel a sheen of sweat on his face only a few steps later.

Outside the stadium was a large fountain that was dyed green every St Patrick’s day. Around it, grassy squares were sectioned off with sidewalks. Despite kickoff approaching, there were still throngs of people walking towards the entrance, in line for the various food trucks, and tailgating near their vehicles or under canopy tents.

Paul had texted him that they’d be under one such tent until gametime, and gave him vague directions to find it. He almost walked right by it, but recognized Tyler’s matching set of hot pink camping chairs that usually sat outside on the back porch. It looked like everyone had already cleared out for the game, except some guy he didn’t recognize who was sitting directly next to a bluetooth speaker, beer in hand. He looked wasted, sunglasses askew on his head and his face red from the inescapable heat of the afternoon.

“They head in?” Alex asked him, gesturing to the stadium. 

The guy nodded along to the music, but more exaggeratedly so, as a yes to his question. He wouldn’t have seen Zee at all if he hadn’t stopped to open one of the coolers and grab a beer. When he did, he dropped it right back into the cooler. That it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been was only due to the fact that he’d arrived when he had. Another hour or two and it would have been much worse.

“Shit,” he muttered, stepping outside the canopied shade and into the direct heat again. He bent to his knees beside Zee.

Zee flinched away.

“Hey,” Alex said. “It’s me. It’s just me.”

Recognition filled not only Zee’s eyes but his entire posture. He was sitting on the ground, in the sun, wearing long pants, a thick jersey, and a football helmet of all things. Alex pried it off, noticing how his hair was as drenched as if he’d just stepped out of a shower and how red his face was. He had on his thick collar, and a slim cord of climbing rope was tied from the ring to a stake in the ground.

He tried to pull the stake but it didn’t budge. He gave that up quickly, going instead for the knots around the collar. They were tight, and his fingers were slick from the drink he’d taken out of the cooler. He wiped them on his pants and tried again, leaning in and using his teeth to start loosening the knot. He was beginning to wonder if by some miracle he’d find a knife anywhere when it came loose, and he was able to untie it. The rope fell from the collar and he stood up, dragging Zee backwards under his arms into the shade of the tent. 

“What the hell is this?” he asked over his shoulder. The only other occupant of the tent was still drinking, still oblivious to everything but his music. He looked their way and shrugged innocently. 

Zee lay on his back as Alex reached into the cooler and pulled out a handful of ice. He opened Zee’s right hand and placed it inside, bringing it to his face for him. Zee got the idea and held it against his forehead, his cheeks, his neck. His whimper of relief made Alex’s stomach lurch with useless anger. He rummaged in the cooler for water, but found none. He opened a second one and dug through the ice with the same results. 

“Is there nothing but Coors goddam lite in here?” he asked the straggler, who leaned forward and pointed at a third cooler underneath a folding table. He opened it to the blessed sight of bottled water. After pulling Zee back to a sitting position he held it to his mouth to let him drink. Zee dropped the ice and grabbed at the bottle, squeezing it inelegantly so water went not only into his mouth but down his chin and the front of his shirt. Alex peeled the thick polyester jersey from his ribs and up over his head. Zee seemed glad to be rid of it, and leaned back against one of the coolers, half naked and breathing deep deliberate breaths.

"I couldn't get that knot untied," he said. "It was too tight."

He knew better than to ask Zee any questions. He’d likely not get much of an answer. After his first few admissions regarding Cam, he learned quickly that sharing details among the brothers resulted in arguments, and that discord always returned to him eventually, with him painted as some sort of snitch. 

“You’re okay,” he said instead. “You’re good now, Zee. It’s okay.”

Inside the stadium, the band began to play. The words of the announcers were too far to make out, but they echoed across the hot air. He picked an icecube off the grass and circled it over Zee’s face. Zee closed his eyes. 

“I guess it’s a good thing you’re still sweating,” he said, and Zee nodded as he took another swig of water. He let Alex feel his pulse with untrained fingers, unsure exactly what to look for but compelled to do it anyway. It felt fast. He got up and cast a glance around the tent. The remaining guy was probably too drunk for the game, and volunteered to stay behind with Zee and everyone’s belongings. Zee wasn’t much of a guard on his own if he was tethered to the grass outside the tent like a dog. Except if it was a dog, he thought bitterly, some passerby probably would’ve noticed and helped it by now. 

“Hey!” the would-be guard frowned as Alex began rummaging through belongings. 

“Shut the fuck up,” returned Alex.

After searching two bags of items that were no use to him, he pulled a handheld mechanical fan from a third. He returned to Zee and held it in front of his face, the tiny blades whirring and blowing his sweat-drenched hair with cool air. For the first time since he’d found him, Zee looked at him directly. A mixture of relief and something else was in his eyes. What that other thing was, Alex wasn’t sure. It might have been where were you? Or perhaps I told you so. Maybe he imagined it entirely, because with his next breath Zee thanked him so earnestly he found himself shushing him and getting a new piece of ice to run over his skin.

“There’s an ambulance by the entrance,” he said, and no sooner were the words out of his mouth than Zee was shaking his head weakly. Alex held the ice midair.

“I can ask them to look at you,” he insisted. “You don’t have to go anywhere with them.”

Still Zee shook his head. “M’okay,” he whispered. He took another swig of water. After second thought, he dumped the rest over the top of his head and closed his eyes. Alex kept the fan on him. 

“Do you feel sick?”

“Not now. Just hot.”

When Alex took out his phone to call another Uber, he noticed two missed calls from Paul, probably asking where he was. He had no doubt Paul was one of the ones in the tent who abandoned their boxboy in the heat to go inside. He ignored them, and chose the soonest available pickup. He couldn’t bring himself to put Zee back in the thick jersey he’d found him in, and told him to wait while he walked to a nearby vendors tent and bought him a cotton tshirt. He didn’t think Zee would appreciate being paraded through a crowded event shirtless with that thick collar locked around his neck, even just to get to the curb for the driver. He couldn’t say he would relish the attention, either.

In a crisp New Sovereigns tee, he walked dutifully beside Alex to meet their car. Alex opened the door and let him climb inside first before going into the backseat after him. Zee sat in the middle and slumped over into the far seat, his head pressing against the door. 

“Hey,” Alex muttered automatically to the driver. To his dismay, the driver looked in the rearview and turned around, beaming. 

“Alex!”

He recognized Alexander Katz from biology lab and forced his mouth into a friendly smile. In that class, Alex was Clair and Alexander was Katz. “You’re missing the game,” Alex said, automatically making casual conversation. It made the entire situation feel worse, somehow.

“Ah, I need a few extra bucks,” answered Alexander. “You’re gonna miss it too, though, by the looks of it.”

Yeah, boxboy duty. My friends left him tied to a stake in record-breaking heat. “My buddy’s drunk,” he lied. “I volunteered to take him back to the house.”

Alexander rolled his eyes knowingly. “Heard that,” he said, and consulted his side mirror before pulling out into the street. He had to stop for a throng of polo-wearing boys and their cowboy-booted counterparts to cross, headed for the stadium. Alex took the opportunity to check on Zee like one might check on an egregiously drunk friend. He was awake and breathing normally now, and Alex noticed he had pulled his new shirt up to hide his collar.

After fifteen minutes of slow gameday traffic and painful smalltalk with Alexander, the car arrived on their residential street near campus, only a mile and a half from the stadium.

Alexander reached back for a fistbump and offered a helping hand with his drunk buddy. Alex declined, saying he was still good enough to walk, just blacked out. Zee played his part, keeping his shirt lifted to hide the collar and looking like a wasted college student might as he stumbled out into Alex’s arm and let him guide him to the front steps. He dropped the shirt the moment Alexander was out of the driveway and stood up straighter, decidedly less drunk-looking. Alex felt more shame than gratitude that he’d played the part he was assigned so willingly. Even in the state he was in, after what he’d just been through. Just to save him some hypocritical sense of embarrassment.

The house was cool. The airconditioning was on, and fans spun lazily in the high ceilings. Zee headed straight for the shower, but Alex asked him to wait. He did so, staring stone faced at the floor as Alex took the stairs two at a time. He returned with his copy of the key he’d negotiated from Cameron, and unlocked the collar so it fell away from Zee’s sweaty neck. He rubbed at the indentation it left, but said nothing. 

“Go,” Alex nudged. With his permission, Zee continued to the downstairs bath and turned on the shower. 

He sat on the couch for a full five minutes with his elbows on his knees, staring at the muted television. The game they’d just left was on. He couldn’t help but watch for Dominic. 

Zee came out of the shower and sat on the sofa, on the opposite end, as far as he could have possibly sat from him. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Alex asked gently. 

“You saw it,” he said blamelessly. 

“Who tied you out like that?”

He was reluctant. “…Does it matter?”

Alex couldn’t look at him. If he pushed, Zee would tell him. But he was right. It didn’t matter who specifically. It was a group effort. He watched the Panther’s coach spat on the ground and make a frustrated hand gesture in the direction of the field. Not one quarter in and the home team was pulling far ahead, just as Alexander had predicted in the car. 

“I guess not. Where is Cameron?”

Zee shrugged. With both Alex and Dominic gone, Cameron was Zee’s last line of defense, as dubious as that was. It seemed to be working lately, as much as Alex hated to admit it. 

“You can catch most of the game if you go now.”

He forced himself to look at their boxie. He looked better now, if tired and a little sunburned on his forearms. At least that heavy jersey they’d had him in had protected him from more of that. “I’m not going to the game.”

“I’m fine now. Thank you.”

“I’m staying here, Zee. I don’t care about the game.”

They watched in silence as the camera panned the crowd. 

“Do you want to come with me tonight? I’m going to Claire’s house.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah. That’s why I asked.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

“I don’t need to be babysat. Cam will be back soon.”

“That’s not why I offered. Claire likes you. I thought you might want a change of scenery tonight. I’d like you to come with me.”

Zee laid sideways on the sofa, much like he had in the back of the Uber. “Okay.”

Alex stood up. “You need some gatorade, or a snack or something.”

Since it wasn’t a question, Zee offered no reply. And as always when it came to Alex, no resistance.

[soizoukoi]

Did you notice in Trafik, Joost has a green pocket square and Käärijä has blue sunglasses hanging from his necklace 😭

Yes, I did! I believe it's their way of showing how they match so well 💚💙

[jophiel-shakes]

maybe glam Bonnie nsfw w/ fem reader please 🙏🙏🙏🙏 my beloved asshole bunny deserves more content

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

note :: pov asshole rabbit gets laid (old, short and unfinished)

warning :: bj, sub reader, short smut

reader pronouns :: none mentioned

relationship :: romantic, fwb

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You had recently been called in by management to hear out Bonnie who had some complaints. You were not sure why you- a messy apprentice- was sent. You assumed it was to get you more used to the animatronics and help you understand the robotics, but the really only did it because one, they didn’t care what Bonnie had to say and two, you were easy to boss around.

Still, you could probably put private consultation with a highly technical robot in your resume… even though this wasn’t your first meet with the purple bunny.

You step into his green room, notes app open on your work iPad.

“Good afternoon little bunny.” He beckons you over to his couch, “I was hoping they’d send you.”

You smile knowingly, but still decide to lead him on. “Why’s that?”

“So I wouldn’t have to make up some bull story about experiencing problems.” He pushed up his iconic sunglasses and stared at you with half lidded glowing eyes. He was hungry, you could tell, thankfully it wasn’t for food.

“And you’re not experiencing problems?” You asked, pretending to write on your tablet.

“Well of course I am, come here and I’ll show you.” He curves his index finger as a sign for you to come closer, you abide and stand between his spread legs.

“And what seems to be the problem?” You look down at him.

“We’ll, you see, I’ve got this itch and I figured you’re the only one who can scratch it.” He looks at you up through his glasses.

“And where’s that scratch?” You couldn’t hold a straight face, a smile kept etching onto your lips.

“Get on your knees and I’ll show you.”

You have never followed a command so quickly, practically dropping to the floor in utter excitement.

“Good girl,” he praises, brining his chin up to meet your eyes, “you’re gonna do what I want, aren’t you?” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.

“Yes.” You respond weakly. Your eyes wander to his crotch, you’re fixated on the square compartment that reserved his silicone dick.

“Close your eyes. I’ve got a surprise for you.” He jests, you comply and lightly shut your lids. The sound of mechanical changing was like music to your ears. You don’t wait for his permission to open your eyes.

[roseamongroses]

not to be sappy but they mean the world to me

also happy juneteenth! im a college student with the typical fees expected from a fine art program so my bare bones kofi is: here.

i'll be posting there more frequently in the incoming months, as well as prepping other blogs/social media for my original writing and art so look out for that too!

[ID: A digital drawing of Margo Kess, Miles Morales, and Hobie Brown from the chest up. Behind the characters is a purple square background with a black, sketchy border. This is in the center of a larger light- pink background. The piece primarily includes neon colors with purple and pink highlights, shading, and half-tones. Margo is on the outer, left side. She holds up a peace sign and leans into Miles with a slight smile and raised eyebrows. Margo is a brown to dark skin girl with two afro puffs at the top of her head. She is wearing pink and blue heart-shaped sunglasses, pink headphones around her neck, a mesh shirt with a teal t-shirt underneath, and a lime green jacket. To Margos right is Miles. Miles stands between Margo and Hobie, looking at the viewer directly while smiling. Miles is a brown-to-dark skin boy. He has an afro with a tapered fade and is wearing a black turtle neck. To Miles's right is Hobie. Hobie is leaning into Miles, looking at the viewer as he is holding up his middle finger and sticking out his tounge. Hobie has dark-skin, eyebrow piercings, a split tounge, and cyan stiletto nails. His wicks are the same color as the pink background and are shaded with pink-star halftones. He is wearing a pink, chunky choker and bracelet with cyan spikes, a royal blue vest, and a shredded lavender shirt. end id]

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: Eren dwells on the possible consequences of not saying three little words back. However, a week at the Jaeger house only makes your bond grow stronger and for your trust in each other to manifest in more ways than one.

— Content warnings: nsfw, dry humping, sloppy make out, vaginal sex, handjob, oral sex (f receiving), multiple positions, dirty talk.

— Notes: Chapter 9 is finally here! <3 This is my second favorite chapter in the entire series. It’s a long one, so buckle up because lots of things happen. Reblogs and likes are highly appreciated. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

home is in your arms

The passing scenery from inside of the rental car is bursting with color. Toasty yellows, cheerful blues, fresh greens, and vibrant reds span your vision as you drive across the town. It's a stark contrast to the icy whites and blues you left behind just a few hours ago when you took a flight to Paradis Island. 

Eren's free hand rests on your thigh while the other steers the wheel. His sunglasses are low on the bridge of his nose and the warm wind comes in through the lowered windows and teases his hair. 

You bite down on the ice cream sandwich in your hands before humming for Eren's attention and offering him a bite, too. 

He chomps down on the snack, laughing when you pout at the significant reduction of the treat he brought you at the convenience store next to the car rental shop. He insisted he didn't want anything other than the bottle of cold water snug in the cupholder, so you only offered him a bite of your ice cream to be nice, but didn't expect him to be so greedy.

You click your tongue in annoyance before playfully slapping his hand from your thigh. 

It only fuels his amusement. At the next red light, he leans over the console, using his reprimanded hand to pull you closer by the back of your neck into an enthusiastic kiss.

“I'll get you another one later,” he promises before falling back into his seat, his warm hand back in its original spot.

He strokes soothing stripes with his thumb, switching to tapping beats with his fingertips when he happens to like a song on the radio. 

“I'm really happy you came,” he grins.

You glance at him with a smile.

“I can tell,” you tease.

On the days leading up to your year-end holiday trip to the Jaeger family's hometown, Eren has barely done anything to keep his excitement under wraps. 

His face would light up each time he talked about showing you around the streets he grew up in before his late father moved them to the city when he was just six years old. After Eren grew up and could properly fend for himself — his parents moved back to Paradis Island to live out a more relaxed life until Eren's dad, Grisha, passed at the hands of an illness a couple of years back. It's the only time Eren's been back that hasn't been for the winter holidays. This year, it just made sense that you joined him.

“You think your mom will like me?” you ask, neatly folding the ice cream wrapper into a small square that you wedge beside your water bottle in the cupholder. 

“Are you kidding?” he grins. “She's thrilled I'm finally bringing you over. She's gonna love you.”

You smile as you continue to look out the window through your sunglasses, oblivious to the sudden shift in Eren's demeanor after his reassuring words.

It's been roughly a month since you told him you love him. It's been just as long since he failed to say it back — not because it'd be a lie, but because he was simply shocked and overwhelmed with emotion at the time.

He's been trying to find an opening to say it, but you haven't pronounced those three words since, and with every passing day, it's gotten more embarrassing to just say it out of the blue. For a while, his paranoia even led him to believe your confession to be no longer true since you neglected to bring it up after it happened, so the topic has been hanging in the air for a while. Not that you seem consumed by it as much as he is. You've been perfectly fine since that night, much so that he'd actually prefer if you confronted him about it so he gets a chance to preach his true feelings.

“Oh, wow,” you gasp as he pulls through the open gate of his childhood home. 

Your eyes scan the area. It's a lovely home with a manicured lawn, hydrangea patches and neatly trimmed rose bushes overflowing with pink and white. The two-story house is painted in peach with terracotta tiles lining the roof of the terrace, and colorful handmade pots on either side of the front steps. To the left is a small driveway that Eren steers the car towards, and to the right is a small ornate gate painted in white that leads to the backyard where you catch a glimpse of a pool.

A woman — whom you presume is Eren's mother — eagerly rushes out the front door at the sound of the foreign car. 

Much to your surprise, she calls out your name first, passing by her son and pulling you into her arms instead.

“You're finally here,” she gushes. Your arms awkwardly hang at your sides, taken aback by the sudden contact, but you quickly regain control over yourself as you sink into the warm welcome. She sways your body from side to side as she exclaims how happy she is to finally meet you.

Your heart flutters with an unfamiliar sensation, one you haven't experienced in years as Carla Jaeger’s motherly affection lightens your soul.

“Look at you,” she says, pulling back and cupping your face between her soft hands to soak in every detail of your face. “You're so pretty.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile. “It's so nice to meet you.”

You take the opportunity to observe the woman before you. Eren's shown you a few pictures before, but Carla's even more beautiful up close. Though still fairly young, it's easy to tell she's one of those people whose powerful genetics allow them to age gracefully. She shares the same large eyes as Eren, though hers have a caramel color to them, and they crinkle more at the corners when she smiles. Her thick eyebrows match her voluminous head of dark hair, which is fixed in a loose braid over her shoulder. 

She's wearing a long flowy dress that easily outshines your airport look made up of a pair of baggy jeans and an oversized graphic tee with a hoodie tied at your waist, but the way she looks at you makes you feel as though you may as well be stepping off the runway given the twinkle of admiration shining in her eyes.

Eren regards the endearing scene between his mother and girlfriend with a smile etched on his face. He can tell you're shy but just as happy for the warm welcome. 

He clears his throat suddenly, garnering the attention of both women. 

“I'm here, too, mom,” he sassily pronounces with his hands openly asking for the same attention.

Carla laughs and walks over to him, but not before affectionately squeezing your hands and tossing you a playful eye roll.

She wraps her son in a tight hug, forcing him to hunch over to accommodate her petite stature as he reciprocates her embrace.

“My baby boy,” she coos, much to Eren's embarrassment as he blushes profusely when he notices your teasing smile.

A yearning feeling pulls at your heartstrings at the scene of mother and child reunited.

Carla ushers you inside the house, asking you all about the flight on the way. You and Eren trail behind her to the kitchen, where she takes out a pitcher from the fridge while you sit down at the bar.

“Not too bad, right?” Eren glances at you, encouraging you to take part in the conversation.

You smile at him appreciatively before turning to Carla, watching as she carefully pours lemonade into two glasses and offers them to you.

“Smoothest airport experience ever,” you agree before taking a sip. “Even though I don't have much to compare it to.”

“Why's that, hon?” 

Your heart flutters at the affectionate name you've earned without trying.

“Oh, it was her first time on a plane,” Eren explains, tossing you a smile.

“Really?” Carla's eyebrows rise in surprise. “What'd you think?” 

“It was okay,” you reply with a shrug, trying to seem cool about it. But Eren outs you as soon as the words leave your mouth.

“I had to hold her hand during take-off,” he bluntly states, earning himself a slap on his shoulder.

“You don't have to expose me like that!”

“Hey, I wasn't complaining,” he laughs. “It was cute.”

Your face burns when he pecks your cheek, and you nervously glance at Carla, who only laughs at your exchange.

“You two are adorable,” she gushes. 

Her words fluster you even more.

Eren teasingly wiggles his eyebrows at you before chugging the rest of his drink and hopping off his stool.

“I'm gonna get our suitcases.” He turns to his mom. “Are we in my old room or did you already turn it into a yoga studio?” 

Carla shakes her head.

“It's a craft corner now,” she clarifies, holding up a finger. “You're staying in the pool house. I fixed it up this morning.”

Eren nods, humming in approval. 

“Nice. Thanks, mom.”

He ventures out of the house, leaving you and Carla alone.

“I figured you could use some privacy,” she adds once her son is out of earshot.

You laugh nervously at her mischievous smile. Her eyes crinkle in amusement before she wears a more serious expression.

“How's my son treating you? Is he good to you?” 

Carla — though very stern about making sure Eren grew up to be a good person, and proud that he did — is one who will still check in every now and then to make sure nothing has led him astray. Especially in situations that are so rare in his life, like romance is.

You smile, easing her worries instantly.

“He's incredibly kind,” you softly say. “I couldn't be happier.”

Carla relaxes into a smile. 

“That's good to hear.” 

“He's a very respectful man,” you add. “At least in my case, it’s been pretty hard to come across genuinely good guys, but ones like Eren are especially rare… He’s very caring… and patient… and understanding. You and Mr. Jaeger raised a wonderful person.”

A dust of pink surfaces Carla's cheeks at the compliment. 

She reaches across the counter to place her hand on top of yours.

“You know, I was so excited when he told me he started seeing someone. For a while I worried he just wanted to be alone,” she admits. “Not that there's anything wrong with that. I've always said it's better to be alone than to keep the wrong company, but he’s been so happy every time he calls me up since you started dating… I'm glad he has the same effect on you.”

“Well, he makes it easy.” 

You share a smile with each other, holding hands in silence.

You aren't as nervous as you thought you'd be when Eren first told you he wanted you to come to Paradis with him to meet his mom.

She's got a calming energy that easily soothes you in her presence — much like her son.

“I meant to say this earlier, but your house is lovely,” you say as you look around, eyes landing on every pop of color provided by eclectic knick-knacks and accent walls, handmade vases and colorful flowers. It's like someone took your apartment and turned the dial as far as it can go, it's unapologetically loud without being overwhelming. “It’s like a dollhouse.”

“I decorated it myself,” she grins. “Picked the palette, the furniture, everything.”

“That's amazing,” you breathe, highly impressed. “Eren told me you used to work as an interior designer.”

She nods.

“I did. I majored in art in college but my father already had an architecture firm so that's where everything fell in place for me after I graduated.” 

You politely nod along.

“I like to dabble in lots of things now. I still paint and take on private clients now and then, but I spend a lot of time on my hobbies. Knitting, sewing, baking, Italian, gardening…” 

Your eyes widen as the list goes on, especially when it's a hobby of your liking, too.

“You saw the pots outside?”

You nod.

“Made those, too,” she proudly states.

Your smile grows as does your admiration for the talented woman before you.

Eren told you some basic things before coming, but he failed to mention how remarkable his mother truly is.

“That's incredible,” you sigh. 

“What about you?” she smiles. “What do you do outside of work? Eren told me you're an office administrator?”

“Office manager, yeah, it's not a very glamorous job,” you chuckle. “But I like knitting, too. And reading, cooking… but baking is my favorite.”

She claps with glee at the last of the list.

“Oh, good! You can help me make cookies tomorrow!” 

“Yes, of course!” you reply, mirroring her enthusiasm.

She squeals with delight.

“Oh, it's so nice to finally have a baking buddy,” she gushes. “Eren only helps lick the batter off the spoon.”

You laugh.

“Eren, what?”

The man himself wanders into the kitchen with an accusing gaze.

“Oh, nothing,” you say, dismissing him with a wave of your hand. “Just exchanging war stories with your mom.”

In his ever-lingering childish manner, Eren pouts.

“Hey,” he complains. “She's still my mom. She'll report back to me later.”

He glances at Carla for backup, but the lively woman tears down his idea on the spot.

“I wouldn't dare. Girl talk is sacred.”

She holds up her pinky in your direction, which you gladly link with while laughing at Eren’s playful scowl.

“You two should get settled in before dinner,” she says, waving you out of the kitchen. “I'm making bolognese.” 

“Oh, would you like some help?” you offer.

But she shakes her head while waving her hands in front of her.

“No need, honey. Just go unpack and I'll call you out. You're probably tired from the flight here.”

Before you can insist any further, Eren laces your hands together and gestures to you to follow him out with a nod and his signature boyish grin.

He leads you out to the backyard through the sliding doors at the back of the dining room.

The pool water sparkles underneath the sizzling sun at the center of the vibrant green of the freshly cut grass. A few lawn chairs are scattered along the poolside under the shade of a tree.

On the other end of it all, there's a simple, one-story construction in the same peach tone and the same terracotta tiles from the main house. Eren holds the door open for you to step into a colorful lounge area equipped with a bar and kitchenette, with two doors along the left wall that lead to other rooms.

“It's a mini-dollhouse,” you murmur in amazement as your eyes go from the royal blue curtains to the yellow velvet sofa to the oddly-shaped acrylic coffee table before it, to the green and blue mismatched tiles that take up the northern wall of the kitchenette. 

Eren amusedly watches you wander over to the doors on the left side. 

“There's a pink bathtub!” You turn to him in surprise. 

He laughs as he rejoins your hands and guides you to the bedroom.

“I've never seen a pink bathtub,” you murmur, still amazed by what you saw in the bathroom.

“Come here,” Eren grins, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. 

He looks up at you, eyes shimmering as he brushes your hair out of your face.

“Are you happy?” 

You smile as you lock your hands behind his neck.

“Very.”

“Yeah?”

You reply with an eager nod as you close the gap between you to kiss the corner of his lips. He doesn't allow you to pull away, his hand keeping you in place as he returns the kiss. 

He falls back onto the bed, pulling you down with him by the waist.

You rest on your sides, regarding each other in comfortable silence.

“Do you think we can find a place with a pink bathtub?” you wonder out loud after a few minutes.

Eren laughs.

“Are you still thinking about that?” 

“I can't help it! This place is amazing,” you gush. 

“Just wait til the New Year's Eve party,” he says. “You're gonna love it.”

“Tell me about it,” you ask him, snuggling into his chest.

“Let’s see,” he murmurs, as he squeezes your frame. “There’s music and champagne. My mom has a friend who owns a catering business and they serve the most incredible food. My mom decorates the terrace with all these flowers and lights, and at the stroke of midnight there's a fireworks show to celebrate the new year.”

“That sounds so nice,” you smile, then lean back to look at him. “Any New Year's kiss plans, Jaeger?”

“I don't know,” he sighs. “There's this girl I have a huge crush on but I don't know if she'll say yes.”

“That's too bad,” you say. “One-sided crushes are the worst.”

He nods in mock disappointment. 

“I'll just have to settle for you.”

“I guess you should.”

He kisses your cheek once, which soon transforms into a full-on attack of affection as he tickles and pokes your sides, making you laugh until you're gasping for air and tears of joy line your eyes.

Laughter echoes throughout the Jaeger home as the three of you browse the pages of Eren's baby photo albums.

After a relaxing shower and filling your bellies with heaps of Carla's pasta — she promised to pass on the recipe to you before you left — she left the dining room with a mischievous grin on her face, only to return with a stack of five albums, one for each early year of his life, and a box with more photos from later years. 

The three of you curled up on the sofa in the living room — you in between each Jaeger.

“This one has to be my new favorite,” you laugh as you land on a new spread.

Your eyes focus on a picture of a chubby nine-month-old Eren wearing nothing but a diaper and a pair of black boots, his eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses as he grips his tiny hands on the edge of a chair. 

Eren blushes when you turn to look at him with eyes crinkled in amusement and giggles leaving your lips.

“You already have like twenty favorites,” he chuckles.

“You were a really cute baby,” you defend. 

“This one is my favorite,” Carla points out, as she turns to the next page to reveal a photo of him fully naked with his back to the camera as he looks over his shoulder with a pout on his lips. 

You fall into a fit of giggles, gushing at baby Eren's adorable expression. 

“This feels like a hate crime,” he mutters.

“On who?” you laugh.

“On me, obviously!”

He tries to seem annoyed but the truth is, he enjoys watching your eyes light up as you watch him grow up between every still image.

The three of you share more laughs and you and Carla especially gang up on Eren when you reach the photo series from when he was going through a self-proclaimed model phase, where he would strike the most ridiculous poses he could think of in every frame.

You resist your tiredness until the last of the pictures has been graced by your delighted critique, to the point where you practically collapse onto the bed hours later when you and Eren go back to the pool house for the night. 

With Eren's warm embrace and the hours of travel catching up to you in an instant, you quickly fall asleep to the sound of his breathing.

Your first official day in Paradis has a late start. After your late-night laughs, you didn't wake up until nearly noon. Though you intended to help Carla make breakfast and clean, she was very understanding about how tired you were after such a long day. 

Even so, a couple of hours later, you hoped your assistance in baking cookies would be enough to make up for it.

You and Carla seem to make quite the team as you move around the kitchen in sync — sifting dry ingredients and mixing the wet ones, all while keeping your stations clean for the next steps. 

Christmas music plays in the background as Carla's infectious joy for the eve of her favorite holiday spreads through the house and wraps you in the same eagerness. 

“I've never made Christmas cookies before,” you mention, as you raise the whisk from your mixing bowl to check the consistency of your chocolate batter for the bundt cake Carla put you in charge of as she rolls out the dough for the cookies.

“Really?” Carla asks.

You nod.

“One of my neighbors gifted me some once when I was younger, but they were store-bought. And my mom wasn't much of a baker… or into holidays, for that matter.”

Carla glances at you with a sympathetic smile as she sets aside the rolling pin and eyes the thickness of the slab of gingerbread dough.

“It must've been hard for you at times, huh?”

Eren shared some details of your past with his mother before making the trip. Not that he expected her to say anything hurtful, but because he figured she shouldn't be caught off guard in case you were particularly sensitive about something.

“I can't really miss what I've never known,” you reply with a shrug. “I think there was a time when I would feel a little jealous of the kids at school after winter break when they would brag about all the stuff they did. It was normal for them but to me, it seemed like a luxury. I'm sure there were some good holiday moments at my house but they were too early on for me to remember.” 

Carla nods, lips pursed and eyes pensive.

“Is there anything you want to try this week?” she asks with a smile. “Eren and I always watch a movie on Christmas Eve and eat cake.”

With a shy smile on your face, you shrug.

“I don't really know. That's already more than I've done on my own… and I'm having enough fun already.”

Carla's smile grows wider at your words.

“Well, if you think of something else, let me know, okay?”

Appreciatively, you nod.

Just as you're about to pour the chocolate batter into the mold, Eren pops into the kitchen, eyes zeroing in on the whisk in your hands.

For the sake of spending more quality time with you, Carla asked her son to keep out of the kitchen — that, and because she doesn't want his sticky fingers near the cake batter. But, of course, he just had to make an appearance during his break from cleaning the pool.

“Looking good,” he comments, pressing a hand against the small of your back so he can get to the fridge for a glass of cold water.

A smile paints across your features as you continue pouring the batter into the mold, scraping down the sides of the bowl with a wooden spoon.

“Are you done with the pool already?” Carla asks him, to which he nods as he chugs down the glass of water.

“Sure am, ma'am.”

Carla hums with skepticism. 

“Go water my plants now, will ya?”

Eren straightens his posture, giving his mom a soldier's salute before making his way out. 

He pauses when he's right behind you, snatching the wooden spoon over your shoulder, pecking your lips when you turn around looking startled. 

“I'll take that,” he grins, winking at your flustered face before exiting the room, laughing on the way as Carla yells at him to not distract her baking buddy.

You bring a hand to your lips, laughing nervously as you avoid Carla's amused gaze.

The two of you take on either side of the slab of dough with cookie cutters as the holiday cheer heightens.

A while later, after the kitchen's been wiped down and the sweet smell of cookies and cake permeates the air, the three of you settle in the living room to fulfill the Jaeger’s Christmas Eve tradition.

You're snuggled between Eren's legs on the reclinable seat, your body covered by a blanket. The nights in Paradis run as cold as the afternoons are hot, but that's no issue when your boyfriend is always so warm.

Eren has his arms wrapped around your waist and every few moments he'll lean down to kiss the crown of your head. Your back picks up the vibrations of his chest when he laughs at a funny scene, as well as his heartbeat, which echoes in sync with yours as your fingers lace with his underneath the blanket.

The tree lights twinkle from the corner of the room as the only source of light aside from the TV. The air is sweet and you're at peace with a stomach full of cake and hot chocolate with peppermint and marshmallows. 

Good holidays have been rare, but this one so far will remain at the top of your list for years to come, you're sure.

The morning after, you're huddled on the floor around the Christmas tree, watching Carla open the gift you got her — a steel jewelry kit with an assortment of stones to embed into her creations. 

Her face lights up like a child's and she throws her arms around you in appreciation. 

“It's perfect!” she exclaims. “How did you know?” She narrows her eyes at her son, assuming he forecasted her next hyperfixation. 

Eren raises his hands in defense.

“It was all her,” he says with a proud grin on his face.

“Thank you,” she smiles as she pronounces your name.

Eren gives her his gift next — a signed vinyl of her favorite band from her early twenties, which receives an equally big reaction.

Eren bursts out laughing when he unwraps your present and pulls out a chibi Sailor Mars figurine. 

“This is amazing,” he grins, turning the box in his hands with fascination. 

You and Eren each receive hand-knit sweaters from Carla, made with intricate patterns and neat stitches in vibrant colors and soft wool.

When it's your turn to open Eren's gift, he holds his breath as he carefully watches you peel off the paper from the black velvet box.

“Oh, wow,” you murmur as you lift the delicate necklace to admire the pendant up close. It's an angel cast in silver, its tiny hands holding a sphere made out of your birthstone.

A knot forms in your throat as you look back at a shyly smiling Eren.

“It's a guardian angel,” he explains in that gentle voice that makes you weak at the knees.

He gestures for you to angle yourself so he can put the necklace on you.

Carla admires the scene from her place with proud eyes and her hands over her heart.

“Do you like it?” Eren asks, his face hovering over your shoulder to gauge your reaction as you look down at the little angel that rests a couple of inches below your collarbone. 

Turning around to face him, you nod, eyes shimmering with joy and appreciation for the boy before you.

“I love it.”

After breakfast, you and Eren wander back into the pool house hand in hand.

You collapse onto the bed, side by side as he brushes your cheek with the back of his hand.

“Are you happy?” he asks.

“You asked me that yesterday,” you smile. “And the day before, too. Do I not look happy?”

He chuckles airily.

“I just wanna make sure.”

You prop your weight on your elbow and cup his face with your free hand. 

The silver angel dangles between you, catching the light that comes through the window. 

“I'm extremely happy,” you murmur, bending down to kiss him as soon as the words leave your mouth.

He smiles into the kiss.

“Good.”

You stand from the bed, walking over to the mirror above the dresser. Smiling, you tilt your head, swaying your upper body so you can see how the angel looks at different angles.

Eren admires you from the bed for a moment before coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I have a second gift for you,” he murmurs slyly. 

Your eyebrows rise with intrigue.

From the mirror, you see him pull something from his back, waving it into view.

Your grin widens at the familiar image of black boots and sunglasses.

“The baby picture!” you exclaim.

You turn around in his arms to take hold of the glossy photo paper.

“It's all yours,” he smiles, then lifts your chin to kiss you on the lips. “And so am I.”

You sink into his kiss, soft and warm, as your arms drape around his neck.

You're giddy with excitement as you, Eren, and Carla venture between scattered beach towels and umbrellas in search of a good spot to settle down.

As expected of Paradis Island's track record, the weather is perfect for a day at the beach. Eren is happy at the chance to make up for the lack of water activities from your first date, as you finally get to cross out one of the items on your bucket list. 

You find a good spot at an equal distance from the water and the seaside eatery where families gather for food after their afternoon swim.

It's not as crowded as you expected, but enough people thought the beach was the perfect setting to unwind from any leftover Christmas chaos from the day before.

Eren fixes the beach umbrella while you and Carla smooth your towels on the sand. Eren gulps hard when you tug off your t-shirt and shorts, revealing once more the delicate swimsuit you bought for the occasion, before lathering yourself in sunscreen, aided by Carla for the spots you can't reach.

When you stepped out of the room in your one-piece earlier today — one with embroidered flowers and delicate straps tied in bows on your shoulders — while tugging on a pair of shorts to keep you modest, Eren nearly passed out.

The drive over allowed him to cool down and thankfully, you threw on that baggy t-shirt, too, or he would've been too flustered to drive.

He plops down onto the beach towel next to yours, watching you share a laugh with Carla over something unknown to him. You turn to him with a smile, kissing his cheek before offering to help him put on sunscreen.

He blushes but nods.

Your fingers sear his back as you massage the sunscreen into his bare skin. You catch glimpses of his flustered demeanor as you work your way down his back. The tips of his ears are flushed red, and when you finally finish, he shyly averts his gaze. 

After a quick look over your shoulder to make sure Carla is distracted looking for something in her bag, you lift Eren's chin and place a soft kiss on his lips.

“What was that for?” he smiles, glancing at his mom lying behind you. He knows you've been shy about kissing him in front of her.

“Because you're cute,” you tease with a shrug before relaxing against your towel.

Eren laughs to himself before taking a moment to relax in the sand as well. His hand meets yours in the middle and he interlocks your fingers, relishing in the warmth of your soft hand and that provided by the heated sand underneath him.

Carla's engrossed in a romance fantasy novel, which she reads through her sunglasses while you and Eren take in the salty air and the collective rustle of fellow beachgoers, with their distant cheers and laughter in between splashes of water.

“I'm gonna go for a swim,” Eren says after a while, carefully releasing your hand before standing. “Wanna join me?” he asks you, hoping you remember his promise to teach you.

You do. 

“Maybe in a little bit,” you smile.

With a crooked smile, he nods before jogging out toward the water.

You and Carla watch him run into the water without hesitation before diving in and swimming for a few feet until he resurfaces and waves at you from a distance.

An endeared smile takes over your features by reflex.

“He's pretty energetic, isn't he?” Carla laughs.

You nod.

“That's one of the things I like about him,” you murmur.

Carla glances at you briefly as she wedges her bookmark into the freshly read pages and sets the novel down on the sand. 

“Eren really likes you, you know,” she smiles. You nod. “I've never seen him so infatuated.” 

You giggle nervously.

“Yeah, but he's had a girlfriend before, right? That's what he told me.”

Carla racks her memory for a moment. 

“Oh, you mean Frieda!” she exclaims. “They dated in high school. She was a nice girl, but I don't think it compares to the way he looks at you. Besides, their romance was pretty short-lived. I don't think she liked him enough.”

You nod along to her words, wondering how anyone could ever not fall for Eren.

“He's a bit of a hopeless romantic,” she adds. “I figured most people would like that but I guess not all of them do.”

“Well, I do,” you assure her. “I like that he's sensitive.”

You poke holes into the sand with your index finger, unaware of the lazy grin that shapes your lips until Carla points it out.

“Do you love him?”

You immediately nod.

“I told him a while back, too… but he didn't say anything. I didn't expect him to, I know I might’ve said it a bit early but… everything feels right with him. I think I might’ve scared him, though.”

An amused air leaves Carla's lips.

“Oh, honey. He brought you here, didn't he?”

Embarrassed, you laugh down at your lap.

A looming shadow draws your attention. You look up to find Eren standing before you, hair wet and droplets streaming down his tan skin, swerving between every dip and curve of his toned torso.

“Hey,” he grins. “Ready?” 

Picking up your jaw and smiling, you nod before looking over at Carla.

“Mind if I steal her away for a bit, mom?” Eren asks.

Carla dismisses you with a wave of her hand.

“Go, have fun. I've got my book,” she says, plucking the bookmark from its place.

You take off your angel necklace, leaving it for Carla to keep safe in her bag. Eren helps you up with one easy pull and leads you through the sand.

The sun blares onto his back, drying off the smaller specks of water from his form as you walk to the shoreline. 

“What were you guys talking about this time?” he asks.

“You, obviously.”

He grins.

“All good things, I hope.”

You smile at him.

“Always.” 

The two of you walk along the shoreline, playfully swinging your linked hands as you distance yourself from the more crowded waters. 

“Here’s probably good,” Eren says once you reach a less saturated area.

You look around nervously, checking for any onlookers near the scene, but Eren’s quick to reassure you.

“Nobody’s gonna be looking at us,” he smiles, squeezing your hand. He steps backward into the water, gently tugging you along with an encouraging shimmer in his eyes.

The water causes you to shudder as you come into contact. It’s not too cold, but combined with the prospect of trying something new, it awakens a nervous response.

Eren carefully guides you deeper into the water until it reaches your waist. Instinctively, you catch yourself standing on your tiptoes the entire time, too unfamiliar with the wet sand beneath you to properly set your feet on the floor. You gently push your weight up, testing if you can somehow float even just the tiniest bit, but your body’s fearful reaction almost causes you to lose balance, if it wasn’t for Eren holding your hands. You go back to standing on your toes. 

“Isn’t it dangerous to learn how to swim in moving waters?” you ask, making nervous minuscule steps toward and away from Eren. You can’t seem to keep still with the feel of the sand shifting under your weight. “Maybe you should teach me in the pool. At least I can't drown there.”

“Relax,” Eren chuckles. Your nervous doe eyes have him in an amused trance. In his eyes, you're a clumsy baby deer learning to walk. “I worked as a lifeguard.”

You blink up at him, still making those tiny aimless steps.

“Did you really?”

“No,” he chuckles, too weak to lie when you’re holding onto his hands so tightly and looking up at him so helplessly. “But I’m not gonna let you drown; you’re too precious.”

You heat up in embarrassment. It’s not enough that you’ll likely make a fool of yourself but he can’t stop flirting even for a moment.

“How can I trust you after you just lied to me?” you pout.

Smiling, he lifts your chin with his index finger, leaning in to capture your lips in a brief kiss.

“Fine,” you murmur, miserably failing at hiding your flustered smile. “I trust you.”

He eagerly grins as he tells you to continue holding onto him and just allow your lower body to rise and float. You fail a few times, your fear keeping your legs from staying parallel to the water. Eren helps you, murmuring gentle commands and tips until you finally manage to stay afloat on your stomach.

“Now, try kicking,” he says, momentarily releasing one of your hands to mimic the motions with two fingers. 

His instructions are clear and in that soft tone he uses with none but you. Even when you're feeling self-conscious or silly it mostly stems from an inner source. Whenever he happens to laugh, it’s because he’s happily encouraging you and cheering you on, or because you’re laughing too.

When he begins pulling you around the water as you practice kicking, he teases you by racing a few steps, causing you to lose your center of gravity. The two of you erupt in laughter as he quickly hoists you up by your waist until you regain your balance.

“You jerk!” you laugh, using as much force as you can muster to splash him with water. 

He raises his forearms in defense, grinning as the salty water washes over his form, before returning your attack in the next instant.

You continue attacking each other with water, squinting at the salt that manages to reach your eyes and trying hard not to laugh to keep from tasting it.

Eren draws his body closer. His attacks are much more aggressive, making you back away from your offense and resorting to shield yourself with your arms while you gleefully squeal words of surrender and pleas for mercy.

The splashing stops when his arms wrap around your waist, pressing your back into his chest as he spreads salty kisses onto your cheek.

You turn around in his arms, grinning widely as you catch your breath. 

He looks adoringly into your eyes, airy laughter sputtering from his lips as he smooths your hair back with one hand and squeezes your hip with the other.

“That was an unfair fight, Jaeger,” you breathe. “You’re supposed to go easy on your girlfriend.”

“I don’t know. You were pretty feisty,” he grins.

You pull him in for a kiss, easily ignoring the saltiness on his lips as a satisfied hum bubbles up his throat.

You lean back, still mirroring each other’s smile.

“Want me to teach you to float on your back?” he suggests.

You hesitate. 

“That one scares me a little,” you admit. “What if I’m carried away by the current?”

He laughs.

“You won’t, there are barely any waves. Come on, it’s really cool once you get it.”

After a brief moment of contemplation, you nod.

Under his guidance and his strong arms, you're lifted parallel to the water again, only this time you’re on your back. His hands are pressed under your upper back and just below your glutes for support, as he tells you how to adjust your form. 

“Lift your chin,” he gently instructs. “And arch your back just a little more.”

You focus intently on keeping your head centered, resisting the urge to look at him so you don’t tilt your weight. 

“I’m gonna let go, okay?”

You quickly utter a string of no’s.

“I’ll do it slowly, yeah?” he offers. “Just stay as you are, I’ll still be right here in case you lose your balance.”

Hesitant, but mildly intrigued to see if you can stay afloat on your own, you subtly nod.

“Okay.”

Slowly, the pressure of Eren’s firm hands strays from your body, leaving you to float on your own.

Holding his hands out for you to see, he proudly grins.

“There you go,” he laughs.

Nervous giggles spill from your lips as you observe the water from your peripheral vision. 

You close your eyes for a moment, relishing the feeling of floating in water. Eren stands next to you, like a palm tree shading an island.

“Pretty cool, right?” he murmurs.

You grin in response. Your eyes flutter open, squinting at the sun. With Eren keeping watch, your body relaxes into the soft motions of the water.

A ripple in the water sways your form. It’s a small shift in movement, so it only adds to the experience.

That is until a slightly bigger one comes your way. It’s still small enough that it would barely faze you had you been standing, but in your current position, it’s enough to startle you.

Eren reaches for your hand once he notices the mild panic in your eyes, but your arms shoot out to cling to his neck as you clumsily lift your upper body from the water. The ripple passes through, and your feet have yet to meet the ground. Eren’s hands are wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady as your doe eyes look up at him in apology for the sudden assault.

In one swift motion, he hooks his arms under your legs, wrapping them around his torso — simultaneously putting an end to your struggle and fixing you in a compromising position. 

“You okay?” he murmurs, his face mere inches from yours.

Flustered, you nod.

He smiles; you mirror the expression. 

His gaze flits to your parted lips, which expel soft breaths. 

He leans forward, tilting his head slightly as his nose brushes against yours. Your eyes flutter closed as he captures your lips in a gentle kiss. His lips are salty but warm as they slot between yours. Your hands are still hooked behind his neck from when you clung to him when the second ripple passed through the water. You ease your grip to weave your fingers in his hair, the water droplets trailing from the strands, and onto your palms as you deepen the kiss.

His sigh of relief falls inside your mouth, as your tongue brushes against his, eliciting goosebumps on your sun-kissed skin.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you notice him hardening, the bulge under his swim trunks brushing precisely against your most sensitive spot.

You pull apart from the kiss, forehead pressed against his, as you glance down where your lower bodies meet.

Just two measly layers are keeping you apart, and you can easily make out the outline of his erection as you continue to peer down with shallow breaths leaving your parted lips.   

When you look back up, you’re met with pink cheeks and half-lidded eyes.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, bashfulness lacing his meek tone as he tries to laugh. “Not much I can do about Little Jaeger in this situation.”

Warily, he scans your face for any motion, any twitch to get a read on what you’re thinking.  He can easily put you down now but, frankly, he doesn’t want to. He just hopes you feel the same way because having you in his arms like this, with water droplets clinging to your skin and your hands lovingly petting his hair, is something he wants to prolong forever.

“It’s okay,” you breathe. “I don’t mind.”

You reconnect with his lips, gently sucking on his bottom lip, drawing out a strained moan from him in the process.

He can feel himself growing impossibly harder under his trunks. It’s getting more difficult by the second to keep himself together when you’re moving your tongue against his so slowly. Thankfully, you pull back a few moments later.

“We should probably get back to your mom, though,” you murmur. “And I’m kind of hungry now.”

He nods. He doesn’t want to, but he lowers you to the ground. His erection brushes against your lower stomach in the process, leaving you to stumble back with a flustered expression on your face.

“You should head back first,” he says, running a nervous hand through his hair. “I’m gonna need a minute to… calm down.”

You shyly avert your gaze but nod to let him know you understand before finding the way back to your spot on the beach without him.

Still dizzy from the recent exchange, Eren looks out onto the horizon, taking long, deep breaths until he’s ready to meet you for lunch.

You pad barefoot into the bedroom, ruffling your hair with your hands to catch another wave of the fresh scent from your shampoo. Standing at the foot of the bed, you stretch your arms over your head, smiling down at Eren, who observes you quietly through shimmering emerald eyes as his arm rests behind your pillow. After your long day at the beach, where you sunbathed with Carla, Eren taught you how to float, and you feasted on ceviche and coconut water, you’re more than ready to collapse.

You climb onto the bed next to Eren, snuggling into him as you always do, while he lazily wraps an arm around your waist as he always does. The golden light from the bedside lamp on his side acts as the only source of light, soft and comforting.

“You had quite a day today, babe. Think you're on your way to join the Olympics?” he teases.

You roll your eyes, scooting back so you can face him properly.

“Not if you keep dragging me around like that,” you deadpan. “That was an attempted murder.”

He laughs.

You watch him ease into a smile as his thoughts wander to somewhere unknown to you.

“My mom really likes you, by the way,” he murmurs as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. 

You prop yourself on one elbow, your interest piqued by his comment.

“Really? Did she tell you that?”

He nods as he raises his hand to trace the curve of your bottom lip.

“You know when you went to get shave ice? She told me then.”

“Ah, so you talk about me behind my back, too.”

An amused air blows through his nose.

“All good things. She kept going on and on about how pretty you are.”

“Is that so?” you say, leaning closer to his face.

“Mhm. She said you're the perfect girl for me.”

You quirk an eyebrow.

“That's a pretty bold statement.”

“What can I say? She's obsessed with you.”

You giggle as you lean even closer. His gaze flickers from your eyes, to your lips, and back again.

“Are you sure it wasn't you who said all those things?” 

“Oh, what? You think I'm obsessed with you?” he jests.

You suck in a meditative breath through your teeth. 

“I can't know for sure but you look like you really want to kiss me right now,” you reply, your tone laced with a hint of arrogance. 

“I don't know what you're talking about," Eren murmurs, immediately contradicting himself by lifting his chin to meet your lips, which linger dangerously close above him.

“Hm… then maybe I'm wrong,” you say, pulling back just as his lips ghost beneath yours.

Eren blinks up at you, helplessly sighing. 

You giggle before dipping down, only to pull back at the last second once more.

You chew on your bottom lip as you look down at him with mischief tainting your gaze.

A gasp travels past your lips when Eren suddenly pushes you back on the bed, pinning your wrist down with a firm grip.

He hovers over you now, eyes stern and determined with your body caged between his legs.

From your point of view, he seems so big. And the strength with which he keeps you in place reminds you he's as tough and manly as he is gentle and sweet. It's a reminder that draws a tingling sensation in your stomach.

In the next second, his eyes soften, as does his grip on your wrist as he bends down to kiss you.

Your body relaxes upon the comfort of his mouth caressing yours.

Your eyes flutter closed as your free hand finds a home in his hair, urging him closer — a command he can't resist.

His careful tongue wanders into your mouth, swallowing the soft moan that bubbles up your throat. 

He breaks away from the kiss, exhaling heavily as he rests his forehead against yours.

The corners of your lips tug into a smile.

“Trying to finish what you started?” you murmur.

“Maybe,” he says before his voice grows timid. “Should I?”

Slowly, he pulls back just enough to properly gauge your reaction. 

Your eyes twinkle as they hold his intense gaze. They travel over every single one of his features — his upturned eyebrows, the pink cheeks, the lips that hold back from taking or releasing breaths, and the emerald eyes that twinkle just the same. 

“Please.”

Your voice is barely enough to be called a whisper, but the word reaches his ears just fine.

The kiss is quickly reignited; his tongue forces itself into your mouth, earning a delicate whimper in return as you free yourself from his grasp to pull him closer by his hair. Your fingers tangle themselves between the short chocolate strands as he needily sucks on your tongue, the mix of your spit slathered around your mouth in the midst of his sloppy greed. 

One forearm keeps his weight above you as his free hand grips your waist, your shirt riding up in the process as you writhe under him, desperate for his touch, for his lips, for his tongue.

As you grow dizzy from your frenetic makeout, your hands travel down his chest, feeling each tensed muscle over the cotton fabric until your fingers hook under the hem of his shirt, silently asking for him to undress.

He pulls back to give in to your wishes, swiftly tugging the garment over his head and tossing it onto the floor.

He takes a moment to look down at you, your frame suddenly so small beneath him but your pupils are blown with lust and excitement as they wander his bare torso.

Through shallow breaths and with trembling hands, you trace over every defined curve with the pads of your fingers, committing every shape to memory as you go. 

Eren bites back a smile. He knows you're only trying to be gentle, but your delicate fingers tickle his skin as they slowly explore his abdomen. 

He sucks in a sharp breath, brow furrowed and eyes fluttering shut when you reach the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

You eye him carefully as you trace the border of the only remaining piece of clothing on his body — testing his patience as you draw over the edge a couple of times before your fingers hook around the elastic band.

Slowly, you pull down his underwear, holding your breath until his semi-hardened cock springs out of its confines. 

From above, Eren closely watches your reaction, getting drunk off the image of your parted lips, your gentle half-lidded eyes, and your shy hands that carefully wrap around his growing erection. You stroke him once, to which he bites down on his bottom lip to keep himself from pronouncing any profanities, but when your thumb brushes over the sensitive head of his cock to collect the gathering amount of precum, his eyebrows upturn in pleasure and he fails to keep himself upright.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, falling down onto your chest, struggling to hold up his weight on his forearm while he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

Your other hand nestles in his hair, comforting him as you continue stroking him.

His cock grows under your touch, fully hardening until it's pressed against your stomach when you finally release it.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the length of what's bound to penetrate your insides. 

“See what you do to me?” Eren's strained voice murmurs into your neck.

You turn your head to the side, trying to get a look at the boy whose feverish skin is burning through your clothes.

You call his name in the shape of a whine — a shy plea. 

He lifts his face from the crook of your neck, his eyes boring into yours before he leans forward to kiss you.

The kiss is less urgent than before, but equally needy. His warm tongue slips into your mouth, drawing out a relieved sigh.

“Let me do something for you, yeah?”

You look back at him quizzically, but he only pecks your lips before pressing an open-mouthed kiss onto your collarbone and lowering his body down the bed. He stops when his face is level with your abdomen. His fingers hook around the hem of your shirt, lifting the fabric to expose your stomach. 

Starting just below your ribs, he leaves a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses on your skin, circling his tongue around your belly button when he reaches it and continues further down. 

You close your eyes, head thrown back as your mouth falls open from his affections. 

His fingers tug on the drawstring of your pajama shorts as he glances up at you for confirmation.

Meeting his questioning gaze, you nod, chewing on your lip as you lift your hips for him to slide the garment off your legs. He tosses it to the side and wraps his hands around your ankles, spreading your legs just enough for him to kneel comfortably between them.

Your heart quickens in anticipation, but he outstretches the thrill as he's intent on teasing you first. He holds up your left leg, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he litters your skin with the same open-mouthed kisses he left on your stomach. His mouth travels up your calf, up your inner thigh, and near the trim of your white cotton panties, where he nips at the skin with his teeth, sucking fervently before repeating the process on the other side.

He kisses your right calf, and up your inner thigh, and sucks on the skin before your panties start. And finally, he kisses your pussy over the cotton fabric as he watches you bite down on your bottom lip through his lashes. With his eyes finally closed, he loses himself in the sweet scent of your sex as he drags his tongue in rhythmic stripes, pressing into your clit through your underwear. Your whimpers echo throughout the room as you squirm under his tongue, hoping he'll rid you of your panties soon. 

But he takes his time.

He engages in a heated makeout with your pussy through your underwear, his tongue gliding over your entrance before his lips take their turn each time. 

Your pussy flutters around nothing, aching to be touched, to feel those fervent strokes from his tongue directly on your flesh.

There's a dark patch forming on your underwear, courtesy of his saliva and your built-up arousal. The flimsy cotton sticks to your pussy lips, giving Eren a perfect outline of your needy sex.

“Eren,” you whimper, finally earning a glance from the teasing man between your legs. 

Putting a pause on his teasing, his eyebrows rise in question.

“Please,” you beg, eyebrows upturned in a helpless manner. 

Your ruined panties are discarded. He hooks his hands behind your knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders just in time for him to dive into your pussy like a starved man. His tongue swirls around your entrance, sending shivers up your spine as your fingers lose themselves in his hair. 

A guttural moan rises from the back of his throat as he collects every last trace of your arousal, the taste heavenly sweet on his tongue, though that might be because he's so undeniably whipped.

He repeats the same motions from before on your bare pussy, his mind reeling with dizzy pleasure when he feels you pulsing directly on his tongue. He buries his nose between your folds as his tongue prods deeper, lapping at every nook as he makes a mess of his face.

Checking in on you as he does, he pulls back and slowly inserts a finger inside you. You've barely any strength to utter a word, but the way you throw your head back with your eyebrows upturned in pleasure is enough for him to continue, adding one more finger as he curls them against your insides, searching for that sweet spot that makes your thighs twitch once he finds it.

He lowers his face back into your pussy, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

He draws tight circles onto it, the pressure making you squirm in pleasure in addition to his lithe fingers that produce melodious wet noises as your arousal only continues flowing.

He sucks on your clit as your slick coats his fingers and drips down your ass and onto the covers. 

Not knowing what to do with yourself, you can only continue pushing his face down between your legs as you feel an orgasm creeping up on you.

You whine his name again.

Eren pulls out his fingers, quickly sucking them clean before finishing you off with his mouth.

His tongue languidly prods at your entrance and, with the aid of his fingers spreading your folds, he pushes his tongue inside you as far as he can, stroking your insides with the warm, tireless muscle. His thumb toys with your clit, drawing out a series of lustful cries from you until your toes curl and you squeeze your thighs around his head — not like he cares, anyway; it's practically a bonus reward.

With one last kiss pressed onto your pussy, he pushes himself back up.

When your eyes flutter open as you come down from your orgasm, he's hovering over you, his chin and plump lips glossy with your release and his spit. 

“How'd I do?” he asks breathlessly. His eyes twinkle as he awaits your review, hopeful that you'll praise him.

You pull him closer by his neck.

“So fucking good,” you breathe, before meeting his swollen lips.

Tasting yourself from his mouth feels nothing short of sinful but you happily suck on his lips to gather every last bit of your essence.

In the midst of getting you off on his tongue, Eren discarded his boxer briefs somewhere on the floor, so when he grinds his hips against yours in search of friction, there's nothing but flesh on flesh and neatly groomed pubic hair tickling your skin.

His hand massages the side of your waist, creeping up until he's met with the underside of your breast. This time, your lack of a bra doesn't surprise him, and he doesn't shy away, either. 

His hand eagerly gropes your breast, his fingers gently pinching the nipple as he swallows your moans.

He kneads the soft mound as his cock continues dragging between your folds, hitching on your entrance with every other stroke.

“Mind if I take this off?” he mumbles into your mouth.

You hum in approval, sitting up so he can tug the shirt over your head before falling back onto the pillow.

“Wow,” he whispers, eyes drinking in every detail of your upper body — your tender breasts, your pert nipples, your soft skin, your shiny hair splayed on the pillow, and your pretty face looking up at him with equal admiration.

You smile at him, raising a hand to caress his cheek. He closes his eyes at the contact and rests his hand over yours, turning around to press a kiss into your palm.

You giggle. He smiles down at you.

With your free hand, you travel up his chest, resting just above your favorite sound.

“Your heart's beating like crazy,” you point out.

He squeezes your hand before bending down to brush his nose against yours.

“I wonder why.”

Your eyes crinkle with glee as a shy smile takes over your lips.

He cradles your face with one hand, stroking the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

“You have no idea how precious you are to me.”

A warm glow spreads through your insides at his words, like golden honey that infiltrates your heart and pumps through every corner of your body.

“I think I do,” you whisper, to which he smiles.

He pulls back, eyes glassy and cheeks dusted with pink.

He reaches over to the bedside table, fumbling around the drawer as his angle keeps him from having a full view of the inside. He retrieves a foil square between two fingers.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Were you hoping to get lucky on this trip?” you tease.

“I bought them just in case,” he grins.

You nod in approval. 

“Good call.”

He tears the foil packet open, tossing it aside once he pulls out the contents, and rolls the condom down his length. 

He fixes himself on his forearm once more, caressing your face as his eyebrows rise in question.

“You sure?” 

With a small smile playing on your lips, you nod. 

With the help of his knee, he spreads your legs wider while reaching down to line himself with your entrance — all while maintaining eye contact.

He makes slow teasing stripes down your pussy with his tip — once, twice, three times — before he finally starts sliding inside of you. You hold onto his arm, the muscles firm at your fingertips as they work to keep him steadily above you.

His tip slides in with little resistance, though it's still a bit of a tight fit. Carefully scanning your face for any signs of discomfort, he pushes himself inside you in fragments. 

You close your eyes, sighing in relief when you finally feel the brush of his pubic hair against your lower tummy.

Eren closes his eyes for a moment, too, swallowing thickly as he comes to the realization that he's inside you. He's inside where everything is warm and wet and tight and comforting. 

He opens his eyes before you do. For another moment, he simply admires you, watching your parted lips release hushed breaths — your peaceful image close to that of an angel in prayer.

He smooths back your hair and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

When your eyes finally open, you smile up at him. 

Taking that as a sign, he makes an experimental thrust, eyeing your reaction as he does so. 

You hook your arms under his, your hands pressed firmly against his back as he gradually gains more confidence with each stroke. He peppers your face with kisses until he settles on your lips, where he gingerly pulls on your bottom lip with his teeth, and his pleased sighs are poured down your throat.

You hug him tighter, moaning his name into his ear as he rolls his hips into yours with finesse. 

Eren's back grows sweaty with each of his movements, his breath shallowing at the same pace. Every drag of his hips brushes against your clit, making for the most well-rounded experience as he loses himself in the feeling of your insides fluttering around his length. 

“Does this feel good for you, baby?” he asks as he presses your foreheads together.

“Uh-huh,” you whimper. “Don't stop, Ren. Please.” 

“Wouldn't dream of it,” he smiles before capturing your lips in a needy kiss.

You sigh into his mouth as your tongues swirl around each other, heightening your arousal while he continues building up the pace of his hips. His fingers dig into your waist, acting as leverage for his increasingly faster thrusts. You buck your hips upwards, meeting him halfway in search of more friction. 

“My baby,” he coos against your mouth.

The room is filled with squelching noises of your arousal glossing his length over the condom. Every vein, every curve of his thick cock leaves its mark on your insides, permanently altering your body to fit him. Every deep thrust, every tight circle drawn by his thumb plants a seed for a permanent craving that only he can satisfy. Only he can draw out such pretty noises from your mouth. Only he can make your sweet and innocent voice morph into that of a sinful, greedy woman who wishes to be brought to pleasure by his expert touch. Only he can make love to you like this.

His balls are quickly growing heavy, slapping against your ass with every roll of his hips — the sound echoing in your ears. 

With one quick kiss to his cheek, you push him back gently. He falls onto his back, his aching cock pulsing into nothing but air as he scoots back to rest against the headboard, watching through adoring eyes as you straddle his lap and lower yourself onto his cock with a whimper, relieving yourself from the momentary emptiness you felt. His hands grip your hips with a bruising force, his jaw slack as he watches you expertly move your hips, rocking back and forth against his pelvic bone to satisfy your clit, and up and down to satisfy him.

He fondles one of your breasts as your face falls into the crook of his neck, whimpering and blubbering about how good you feel with him buried deep inside you. One of your hands tangles in his hair while the other digs crescents into his back. 

It’s unreal. To think he’s allowed to be this close to you, to be blessed with the opportunity to melt into your touch. Every whimper, every instance of begging, every drowned-out moan as you hide your face in the crook of his neck — it's beyond addictive. 

You're both coated in sweat, the place where your bodies meet growing stickier with every passing second. Your thighs begin to burn as you continue riding him, trying your best not to lose your pace as he sucks on your nipples and your head falls back in pleasure.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he huffs. “Keep riding my cock like that.”

You tighten around him at the unexpected dirty talk.

Eren's always such a gentleman, so this shift in behavior is surprising — though certainly not unwelcome. 

“Eren,” you whine, looking down at him helplessly as you continue bouncing on his cock.

He flashes you with his signature boyish smile.

“I got you.”

In one swift motion, you're flipped back on the bed while Eren hovers over you. Refusing to let your build-up slip away, he reconnects with you in an instant, sloppily thrusting into you as your legs wrap around his waist.

“Look at you,” he breathlessly coos as he caresses your thigh with one hand and cradles your face with the other. “My baby's so fucking pretty.”

The sounds of slapping skin and moisture reign the room. Your nails dig into his back, scarring the skin with red marks, claiming his body as yours — not that he would want it any other way. Your feverish body clings to him like he's the only thing keeping you grounded as the coil in your stomach tightens more and more.

Sweat drips down his forehead and the now dark chocolate strands that frame his face. His pupils are blown with lust, nearly dominating the entirety of his sweet emerald irises, but his usual warmth remains.

His hips start bucking erratically, his rhythm carelessly tossed out the window as he hooks his arms under your legs and presses them toward your chest. The new angle has you crying out in pleasure as he uses his last bit of strength to sloppily thrust into you a few more times.

The coil reaches its limit, snapping at the hilt of your ecstasy as you cry out his name and your toes curl in pleasure.

A couple of thrusts later, he's spilling hot ropes of cum into the condom and releasing hoarse moans into the crook of your neck. 

His hips finally stop as you lay there, limbs tangled and bodies sticky, while you steady your breathing. His hand rests on your waist, tenderly stroking the skin with his thumb as you comb through his hair with your fingers. 

The air is thick with the sweet remnants of your sexual fulfillment. 

Reluctantly, he pulls out of you, his cock already softening inside the condom as he falls onto his back and pulls you by the waist so that you rest on top of his chest. 

His hand affectionately smooths your back as he takes in your exhausted features. 

“You okay?” he whispers, his voice still too weak to speak as normal.

Not yet recharged from your passionate lovemaking, you just nod.

You smile at each other.

“I didn't… I mean, I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?”

You shake your head at his worried expression before leaning forward to peck the corner of his mouth.

“It was perfect.”

He smiles again. 

Carefully, you lift yourself off his chest before any more soreness settles into your muscles and you begin scouring the floor for your clothes. 

Eren sits up on the bed, ridding himself of the used condom and tying it in a knot as he watches you slip on your underwear.

“What's wrong?” he asks when you click your tongue in confusion.

“I can't find my shirt,” you mutter as you pick up a garment from the floor, only to find it's not what you're looking for. “I don't want to walk around naked. What if your mom comes?”

Eren glances around briefly before he lights up at an idea upon spotting his own white t-shirt on the floor. 

“Here,” he says, tossing the garment in your direction. You catch it with ease. “Just wear mine.”

Without thinking too much about it, you tug on the shirt over your head, the fabric cascading down your body and falling mid-thigh.

“Thanks,” you smile before grabbing a fresh pair of underwear from the dresser and stepping out the door, leaving Eren a blushing mess at the lingering image of you wearing his clothes.

A few minutes later, both clean and tired, you snuggle into each other under the covers. Eren reaches behind him to turn off the bedside lamp, leaving you in peaceful darkness.

“Are you happy?” he asks.

You smile.

“I've never been happier.”

With your hand on his chest and his arm around your waist, you fall asleep.

The following morning, you're woken by the sunlight sifting through the curtains.

When you squint your eyes open, you see Eren smiling at you.

You giggle. 

“How long have you been staring at me?”

“Not too long,” he grins. “You look pretty when you're sleeping.”

Your face warms as you hold onto him tighter. Your body is still dealing with the tired symptoms from last night's heated encounter.

“You think your mom will mind if we stay in bed all day?”

“I don't think I can go that long,” he murmurs. 

It takes you a second to realize what he's hinting at but, when you do, you playfully slap his shoulder. He laughs.

“How are you feeling?” he smiles.

“I'm just a bit sore,” you reply honestly.

He hums in response.

“You wanna postpone our plans?” he asks, concerned you might be too tired for today's itinerary. “We can go out tomorrow.”

To his surprise, you shake your head.

“No, I still wanna go. Just give me a few more minutes.” 

He smiles as he looks down at your tired form. You're wearing that same relaxed expression from last night, reminiscent of an angel when he was hovering over you.

Three words teeter the tip of his tongue, but when his lips part to pronounce them, he retreats, flustered.

So with a quick kiss to your temple, he slips out from under the covers, gets dressed, and ventures to the main house. 

Carla's fixing herself breakfast in the kitchen when he walks in. She greets him with a smile, asking where you are.

“She's still asleep. She's pretty tired from yesterday,” Eren explains, hoping that if he doesn't think about it too much, he won't seem suspicious. 

But Carla only nods in understanding as she sits down to enjoy her omelet. 

“We’re going into town today. I’m gonna show her around. Wanna come?” Eren asks with a smile.

“I can’t today, honey. I’m meeting up with my book club later and I need to catch up on my reading. But you two have fun.”

Eren nods.

A couple of minutes pass by in silence. He stares at a blank point as he chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Would you like me to make you one?” Carla asks, an amused look on her face as she notices her son intently staring at her omelet.

Eren blinks. 

“Oh, no. I’m good.”

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Can I ask you something?”

She sets her fork down, resting her chin on her laced hands with a nod.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

Eren nervously wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, taking a deep breath as he gathers the right words to speak his mind.

“A while back,” he pronounces your name softly. “She told me she loves me.”

Carla smiles, having known that already since you told her.

“But I kind of choked at the time.”

Carla tilts her head, her features serious now. She’s seen the affectionate look in his eyes whenever he sees you, and the way he’s so gentle when treating you. However, perhaps it’ll be easier if he practices admitting his feelings out loud.

“Was it because you don’t…” she trails off, but Eren quickly denies what she’s implying with a shake of his head.

“No, that’s not it. I was just surprised when she said it… It felt really good to hear it,” he smiles.

“So what’s got you worried?” she tenderly asks.

Eren looks down at the counter, gaze lost on the patterns of the mismatched tiles that somehow harmoniously blend together.

“I just… She hasn’t said it since. And I keep trying to tell her how I feel but now I’m worried that, because I didn’t say it back that time, she… might not feel the same way anymore.”

Carla’s concerned features soften, her lips perking into an endeared smile before her son’s anxious expression.

“Oh, honey,” she murmurs.

Eren blushes.

“Do you think that’s it? Do you think she changed her mind?”

“You beautiful dumb boy,” Carla laughs.

She reaches over to squeeze his hand.

“She’s still here, isn’t she?”

“And this is where I dislocated my elbow.”

Eren points to a spot a few feet from the seesaw. 

“How’d you do that?” you ask.

“I let go when it was my turn going up,” he meekly explains, to which you laugh into your hand.

“Oh, Eren.”

You can picture the scene in your head — a young Eren flying into the air after trying to act tough by raising his hands from the handlebar, too young to understand the physics behind the oncoming accident.

He grins as he guides you toward the swings, where he offers you a seat before stepping behind you and gently pushing you.

“The swings are supposed to be for the kids,” you giggle as he pushes you higher.

“It’s not like that’s a law,” he replies with a shrug.

He settles into the swing beside you, promptly matching your height as the chain creaks under his weight. 

As you fly up in the air, he glances over at you. You’ve got the same youthful look in your eyes from the evening you spent together building a sandcastle with Josie. Your face lights up in the same delighted manner. You’re a kid again.

Classical music echoes in your ears from your headphones as you turn the page of the novel Carla left you before leaving to meet the ladies from her book club. 

She gifted you an extra copy from one of the titles in her personal library — last month’s read which she thought you would enjoy. You’re curled up on the yellow velvet sofa, snacking on a clementine from the bag Eren bought for you at the market. As you turn to the next chapter, you catch a glimpse of movement from your peripheral vision, and you look up to find Eren leaning on the bathroom door frame, wearing a robe. 

You pause your music and set your headphones aside.

“What are you doing?” you smile.

He tilts his head in a flirtatious manner.

“I filled up the pink bathtub.”

Your smile grows as you stand to accept the hand he holds out for you to take.

Candles are burning in every corner of the bathroom as vanilla-scented bubbles rest on the water’s surface.

Eren’s robe pools at his feet and he steps into the pink bathtub first, relaxing in the water with his back pressed against the porcelain as his arms rest on either side of the tub. He watches you undress, an enamored smile shaping his lips as you gradually reveal every delicate curve of your nude body to him. 

Using his hand as support, you step into the warm water and settle between his legs, your back flush against his chest as his arms wrap around your waist. 

You instantly relax in his arms, every trace of leftover soreness vanishing from your body as you scoop up the vanilla foam in your hands and rub it between your palms.

Eren presses an open-mouthed kiss onto your bare shoulder and the slope of your neck.

“Are you happy?” he whispers into your ear.

You smile.

“Very.”

He hums in approval.

“I had fun at the park today,” you add.

“Yeah?”

You nod.

“I felt like a kid again when you were pushing me on the swing.”

He chuckles softly. You continue as he listens closely.

“I feel like you really spoil me sometimes.”

“Does that bother you?” he asks, his eyebrows upturned in concern as he wonders if you still don’t feel entirely comfortable with all the attention he gives you.

But you smile and shake your head.

“I like it,” you murmur shyly. “I feel like God compensated me for everything by putting you in my life.”

Your voice weakens with your confession, pulling at Eren’s heartstrings in the process. When you look back at him, tears are lining your lashes, but your features remain cheerful.

“I’m glad I met you, Eren,” you smile before facing forward again.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” he whispers, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You remain quiet, allowing your synced breathing to be the only one to take up the room.

Eren���s thumbs trace up and down your stomach, as you sink further down his chest.

After a while, your voice breaks through the silence. 

“Eren?”

He hums in response.

“Do you still want to know everything?”

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[razypie]

Colors of Different Hue (You) || Gun Park x Reader

cw: a bit graphic in one of the scenes, wc: ~5.2k summary: gun is a lovesick idiot but doesn't want to admit it third-person pov, fem nurse!reader, ooc gun (my delulu version actually), and reaally fast-paced a/n: heavily-inspired by 'Hotarubi no Mori e' story-telling, so there are lotsa flashbacks hehe

"Oooh, look who’s got a date today!" Goo giggled as he peeked back from the wooden porch facing his partner's backyard.

Gun almost had uncharacteristically gotten on his knees in front of the chairman to let him off on this specific day, and now this weapon freak's presence was about to wreck the day before it started.

"Not now, Goo. Why the hell are you even here?" Gun fixed his tie in front of his wide half-length mirror, scooped a generous amount of gel, and brushed his hair back neatly.

"Oh, come on, I was getting bored. Samuel wasn't picking up because of his Workers' Affiliate BS, and Logan has exams this week. For real? That guy should drop out already, it's no use."

"So you decided to stroll your way here to annoy me instead?"

"You got that right!" The blonde eyesore jumped up and hopped his way on square concrete blocks to one of the bamboo trees lined up along the fence.

"Whatever. You better leave the house before I do, or I'll stick that bamboo shoot you just pulled up your ass." Gun warned his house's intruder, who reached out to one of the young bamboo plants.

"Not everything is a katana, you anime samurai wannabe." He picked up his sunglasses and black coat and made his way to his Porsche parked in the space opposite the bamboo trees.

"Says the guy who bought a Japanese mansion in the middle of nowhere." Goo huffed a childish pout. "Jeez, I was gonna use these for cooking snacks, but you just had to give me a disgusting picture."

He gave the man in the car a side glance and sighed. "I was doing you a favor here, man."

-

The morning sun radiated a warm glow on the dark sheen of Gun's sunglasses as he swiftly drove through the outskirts of Seoul. The wide stretches of green pastures emerging from both sides of the road whistled a soft tune into his ears.

Unlike most people who want to live in extravagance with cameras shoved in their faces every single moment, there were times when Gun preferred to settle in a remote area, far from the reeks of city lights, where he could be alone with himself, his thoughts, and his hard-earned (i.e. bloodstained) money.

But of course, the nature of his work required Gun to be by his employer's side around the clock else his grand funeral wouldn't be much later.

So he made the best of these hand-picked moments when he could persuade his boss to grant him off-days.

-

Gun has the whole map of Seoul memorized from his monthly crusades and made that mental map involuntarily take the wheel and let his mind wander off for a while.

-

He pulled his car to a stop in front of a flower shop. As he got out, he noticed a gray umbrella hanging on a covered shed's railing.

'That bastard still owes me for that… and a shit-ton of money for losing in every bet.' But then again, he wouldn't have met Y/N if Goo didn't break his umbrella.

'Hah. No way I’m telling him.'

-

It was a stormy night with distant rumbles of thunder.

His eyes landed on a small figure of a lady in front of him and a bit to his right; the two were taking refuge under a mono-sloped roof of a bus stop.

Even with thick layers of bright-colored clothing enveloping her figure, Gun noticed her shivering with her arms crossed to her chest gripping her shoulders.

The man had nothing to do anyways beside impatiently waiting until the rain wanes, and everything else around him was too dull and gray to entertain him. So, his eyes remained on the peculiar lady, the only other color he could see; a color that penetrated even the darkest tints of his shades.

He examined her.

'The hell is up with this woman? It's not even that cold.'

-

Gun turned up an amused grin at the memory as he stopped over at a flower shop. He grabbed his coat and caught a whiff of lavender-scented detergent he recognized as Y/N's.

-

'Oh. It's her again.' Gun recognized the woman from the other day who had now crouched down to check his injuries. He tried telling her off but to no avail.

"I knew you were a gangster five meters away, dumbhead, but that doesn't mean these 'scratches' (as you called them) will heal themselves… I'm only here to do my job."

'Okay, lady. Be my pest.'

He yielded and rested his back against the brick wall at the end of an alleyway where this meddlesome woman found him.

A light trail of lavender caught his nose; 'That's odd…” his eyes lingered on the lady. “for someone with a sharp tongue and flashy style.'

Now that she's much closer with her hair tied up in a bun, Gun could examine her more closely. Unlike yesterday, she's in full white get-up now: a clean set of white scrubs matched with white shoes.

'A nurse, huh. Probably an intern because I'm looking at a fucking dwarf.'

…

"Shoot."

Apparently, patching Gun's 'scratches' made her miss the last bus.

"That's what you get for doing your job."

"Oh, shut up."

Droplets of pouring rain halted the bickering that was about the start.

…

Gun had to admit though, she did a stellar job mending his wounds.

Ego not permitting him to tell her his thanks, he nonchalantly dropped his thick coat over her head instead while noticing blotches of rain wet her uniform.

Recalling her trembling the other day, the self-proclaimed gentleman also offered to drive her home.

-

Gun's eyes lingered down his coat and figured he hadn't picked it from his wide selection of corporate attires to wear since Y/N returned it; he might've intentionally kept it there to let her fragrance rub off on his other clothes… or not, only he and God knew.

A bell chime signaled his entry to the shop, and a lady from the opposite end greeted him with a welcoming smile.

-

After paying for a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, Gun bowed and turned his heel to the wooden-framed glass door.

The cashier gave him a concerned look but settled with a short smile.

-

Gun decided to walk the rest of the way, paced long strides along the stone-paved sidewalk into the busier streets of Seoul.

Turning his head towards ordinary stalls he used to turn a blind eye to as flashes of Y/N’s twinkling eyes with her hand around the doorknob and an arm linked to his tattooed one surfaced.

A grin crept up to his cheeks.

Since their first encounter, Gun found himself driving past the hospital Y/N works at. Later on, it became a routine. Random nights when he stops by and waits for her at the bus stop in front to chat about each other's day or to give her a ride home, especially when it's raining. 

But of course, he took account of his schedule. He's a busy man, and his spare time, scarce; all of which however, have been filled in by Y/N the more they hung out:

Mondays to Thursdays, he would take the longer route to HNH Building, to have a cup of morning coffee (or so he says) at a restaurant near the hospital. Y/N would walk in, couple of squints later, then wave at him. 

"What a coincidence!"  she exclaims. "Yeah." he replies dryly. 

Fridays to Saturdays, Y/N's off-duty schedule. She would go to the public library to study for her weekly moving exams. It just so happened that Gun also reviewed for GED exams there (the real coincidence).

Surprisingly, Gun is good at memorization, so is Y/N at general trivia. It was effective mutualism.

Sundays were the wildcard. One is busy. Or both are busy. If neither, Gun would accompany Y/N to a random place she keeps going on and on about for the entire week or they would chill in his house (whether he wants it or not).

It's an actual miracle that Goo didn't catch them hanging out, really. Although, he had suspicions… getting a sweet trace of lavender in his partner's house when he barges in without notice (you don't just put "sweet" and "Gun" together). Or when Gun's mood swings become less and less frequent despite the blonde's incessant annoyance sprees.

Goo was itching to bully him for it, but he needed concrete evidence—the ones that would put the jackpot horrified look on the demon's stoic face.

Gun needs to be more cautious around his pest of a partner.

It won't be too long until Goo sees through his lies of checking into brothels on Sundays.

Ah, about that.

It's been ages since Gun set foot into one.

…

Huh.

Guess he found Y/N a more entertaining distraction from work than any bent back he broke.

They just… instantly clicked after their first encounter–like a string of Fate wrapped each of them in a disgustingly cute bow as a present for each other.

They were inseparable. One was the other's breathing space: from Y/N 's tiring hospital duties and from Gun's major crew business.

They were each other's pieces in the puzzle they didn't know were missing.

Friends... they would call each other. But were they really? Might've been even more if they knew what the force that attracted them to each other actually was.

(Ugh. Fate was having none of this folly.)

-

Gun stifled a laugh. A lot has happened in the short time he met her, yet there's still a lot to be unpacked for this lady.

-

"W-wait!" Y/N huffed, holding up a hand between her and Gun. "Not the one to use gender cards here but… go easy on me here, man. Clearly, you have the men's advantage in stamina." Y/N pouted at Gun with what seemed like an attempt to do a puppy face, but she only looked like a constipated shih tzu to him.

He raised an eyebrow but maintained his stance.

"Oh, cut the bullshit, woman. You run around the hospital 24/7. Sparring should just be a piece of cake to you."

"Still–"

"You think those harassing fuckers were the same brats you fought in middle school and go easy on you because you're a girl?"

His eyes scanned her from head to toe. He sneered.

"I bet bruises aren't the only thing they'll leave you had you let your guard down."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"Anyway, I don't know why you're suddenly so adamant, teaching me how to fight." Gun didn't answer, earning a glare from Y/N.

"Besides, I only wrestled those wimps back then to keep them from bullying other kids. That doesn't mean I'd actively engage in one now," She put her hands up in the air in surrender and crossed her legs to sit down, to which Gun loosened up.

"...unlike SOME people."

"You did last time at the park." He jeered.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. Those two creeps kept pestering me, asking for my number. I also texted you, but you left me on read. Did it look like I had a choice?" She eyed him daggers.

"Could've at least used your strength for something genuinely helpful, you sadist."

"Which I did, your punches were getting slow, and you couldn't defend yourself for two whole minutes when I got there, so I finished the job for you. Good work lasting for even a minute."

He was lying, of course.

As soon as he read her message, he sped to the location she sent. When he arrived, the fight had just broken out with Y/N caving in one of the creeps' faces with her clenched fist. He saw her give the other one a solid kick on the ribs and counter back with a knee to the face.

He could tell she had fighting experience, despite sluggish, with those limbs; and he just watched her fend for herself until she wore out…

He cringed.

Yeah… he is a sadist.

"You're right. Let me make it up to you by making you tea then." She used that as an excuse to end their training for the day as she stood up and went to Gun's kitchen.

The latter watched her back disappear in the hallway.

With how their conversation went, it seems Y/N isn't interested in becoming his successor at all. She already rejected him before he could even offer it.

"I guess beating people up for money isn't her 'cup of tea.' It's way easier than having a hospital suck your life out."

…

But not long after, when they were on their way to a cake shop Y/N wanted to check out, some weak-ass thief was also on the loose and unfortunately chose Y/N to be his target. 

Yes, that's right. Unfortunate for the thief.

Long story short, Y/N's hospital will get another patient.

Gun looked at the disfigured face of the stupid fucker with beaming pride at what his student is capable of (Y/N dislikes the idea of Gun calling her his student, though).

He then turned to his masterpiece with a pleased grin and noticed her with arms across her chest while shaking.

"What are you doing?" No response; she was uttering something with her eyes closed.

"I am safe; I am strong."

…

She seemed shocked.

'Eh. It'll pass. I taught her enough to deal with punks like these.'

-

The sun's afternoon rays peeked from the thin linings of thick-smoked cumulonimbus clouds. It dulled the shadow of the man walking on copper-bricked pavement.

Gun heaved a deep sigh. A couple of months ago, he was laser-focused on managing their debt-collecting business, then working as Crystal's bodyguard and finding a successor.

That felt ages ago somehow. His recent calendars have been him dealing with Y/N's antics. Not that he was complaining, he found it amusing to know a woman he could see eye-to-eye on things. No strings attached.

There was something about how she looked at him; neither a hint of fear nor looming intimidation.

Just warmth.

Warmth that melts the iciest of his glares. A soft smile that ebbs his turbulent chaos. Words that tear down his barriers, strip him off his 'Shiro Oni' persona, leaving him with just plain Jonggun Park.

He's also seen patterns of her behavior: the way her eyebrows arches up when she looks at him, the glimmer in her eyes when talking about her pets at home, her nose scrunching up as she recalls medical acronyms, her fingers curling up as she tucks strands of her hair behind her ear, her pouty lips and rosy cheeks when he teases her (his favorite). He memorized them all; and still she continues to surprise him with more.

Stitch that with mood swings and annoying outbursts, and you have Y/N!

How can a woman be so complex yet so... normal?

'One moment she gets mad when I keep my clothes all over the place in my own house, but then when I visit the hospital, she's the one who was all over the place herself with stress and panic...'

-

"The hospital was packed when you came in; it was just bad timing. I'm perfectly calm most of the time." She huffed.

That didn't convince him one bit.

-

She continued to weave questions into his mind.

'What was this weird fixation on this lady? How very unlike me to have interest in anyone beyond their physical strength. When did I start to…'

She does have a slightly above-average physical strength; he wouldn't have batted an eyelash at her if he didn't see potential.

Was that the reason why he was so drawn to her, though? Did Gun ever really sit down and mull over his odd relationship with the quirky Y/N, who is living a life opposite to his?

…

Oh.

...

That IS the very reason he got attracted to her; the fact that she's composed of a lot of things.

Unlike him, who lived the script laid out for him, she wrote her own.

Unlike him, who has only ever seen the thick crimson stains on his shirt, the light gray smoke he exhales from his cancer stick, and the overall black-and-white world he's caged in, hers was made up of different shades of life, the different hues of people she met, and different flavors of memories she savored.

All of them painted a picture of a woman that spilled color onto anyone she touched--including him.

She showed him what lies beyond his dog-eat-dog world.

-

"Dude, tell me. You're actually blind, aren't you?"

'Ah, shit. Here we go again.'

"Your eyes were gouged out in a fight and you spent years training with your remaining senses, didn't you? Now, you're hunting to seek revenge on those who wronged you."

Y/N gasped at her eureka moment. "I cracked the code."

"Cool backstory you've built there, but no. How the fuck could see the road if--"

"Or maybe you are a famous celebrity! They always wear sunglasses to hide their identity."

"Ever heard of famous celebrities getting into gang fights?" Gun knows one, though. But Y/N doesn't.

"..."

"There's your answer."

"Ditch the sunglasses then, you hitman try-hard." She pouted in dismay and looked away with her crossed arms on her chest.

"It baffles me how you still wear them even in training. Even now, you look more like my bodyguard instead of a friend. What the hell?!"

"Then, deal with it."

"Gah! You insufferable prick!" Y/N buried her face in her arms on the table.

Gun stared at her small figure with the very eyes that tickled Y/N's curiosity.

He had long forgotten what his inborn eyes looked like… those wretched eyes.

He'd rather gouge his eyes himself had he failed to unlock his unconscious sense.

He hated those eyes.

He hated how they made him look vulnerable and inferior.

He hated how "soft" they were and made people deem him incapable at a young age. Gun eventually made them eat their own words.

But most of all, he hated how they began to resurface around Y/N and became more frequent the more they hung out… he didn't want her or anybody to see his image that's been long since buried.

So Gun dulled them out with tinted shades. 

"Hey."

He called to break the awkward silence.

No response.

Gun leaned closer. At the same time, Y/N looked up.

He was caught off guard when she suddenly sandwiched his face between her palms.

"Hehe. Gotcha!" She snickered.

His sunglasses loosely fell down the bridge of his nose. Y/N caught a view of his ebony eyes for the first time, at which her eyes widened.

"Gun, your eyes..." Naked eyes meet each other for the first time. Locked as time stopped. Her sudden perplexion eventually subsided, turning soft as she rubbed his cheek.

"They are pretty."

He didn't know which pair of eyes she was looking at right now. But it didn't matter anymore.

The red string was dusted off to clarity.

-

He was taught to discard his humanity aside and embrace his pitch-black monstrosity all his life. Since then, that was all he saw--darkness. The void he had ever known engulfed all colors visible in the spectrum.

On the other hand, white emitted them, like how her ridiculously bright-colored clothing pierced his dark-tinted sunglasses. Her comforting rays of light were outstretched for him to latch on.

It was no wonder how he was captivated by her, ensnared in her mere presence.

He was a pathetic moth bewitched by the warmth of her lamp's flame. It was blinding. He knows she is a whole 'nother kind of destructive, and he shouldn't come close, yet her tiny blaze's euphonious crackle, egging on him to inch closer, lulled him into submission.

He was an Icarus flown to her scorching sun. He knew she would destroy him all along, and he let her.

-

Gun stopped in his tracks at the sight of Y/N 's family nameplate. He collected himself and took a deep breath.

"What a surprise, Jonggun! Are you paying Y/N a visit?" Her mother greeted him with a warm smile.

"It's been months, young man! We missed you!" Her father guffawed, lightly smacking Gun's back.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. L/N." Gun bowed his head and offered them a box of cupcakes he remembered Y/N was gushing about. He appeared calm in front of her parents, but he couldn't meet their eyes–not like they'd notice anyway.

-

Gun snapped his eyes open and landed on Y/N below him; her eyes closed, and her hair sprawled messily around her. She looked ethereal with white draped over her peaceful form.

He got so used to seeing her face filled with intense expressions that her relaxed face seemed fresh as her other features popped out.

It's like falling in love with her all over again.

God, does she look beautiful right now.

She resembled an angel with wings spread on the cold, hard ground.

…

Ground?

…

…

Color drained from Gun's face as he got pulled back to reality at the sight of carmine ichor oozing from Y/N 's side, seeping through the stitches of her white dress.

It… it all happened in a blink.

She darted towards a lost kid who aimlessly crossed the highway, unknowingly about to get hit by a speeding car. She pushed him to safety and took the hit.

The lady beside Gun shrieked in panic and frantically fished out her phone to call an ambulance.

'She might not make it if we still wait for the damn thing.' He knelt down and checked for response and airway in her system.

She was unresponsive but breathing.

He knew this method. With how frequently he and Y/N were together, how she talked 80% of the time, more often than not, she had run him down the basics of first aid, even if they were out of the blue.

'Must've thought I didn't pay attention, huh? Too fucking bad, Y/N. I always listened to you.'

He carefully roamed his hands on various parts of her unconscious body to check for severe bleeding.

'Shit. Three of her ribs are broken. Her right arm is fractured, and she's rapidly losing blood.' His calloused hands cupped the side of her face where her silky strands loosely hung.

'Her temple is also bleeding, probably from the impact when she hit the ground.'

Blood. All too familiar. It never left Gun as soon as he got his first kill.

The sight of blood shouldn't faze him. But his hands were trembling the more he realized how grave her condition is.

It took everything for him to stop driving his fingers to her hair despite being spotted with dried blood. He withdrew his hands and brushed his stray locks back instead in an attempt to keep his composure.

He was planning on taking her to the hospital himself or treating her in his house (he already has enough nursing supplies for his personal use, but Y/N constantly nagged him to buy more for emergencies). But, in her current state, he couldn't carry her otherwise the issue with her ribs gets worse and affects her internal organs, if they weren't already.

"For emergencies, my ass. Can't use them right now, can I?"

Funny how Y/N remained her composure and even kept their banter going when she first treated Gun. Just goes to show that she IS calm at work.

It's kind of ironic now that they've switched places, though. Even if Y/N taught him all this medical stuff, Gun still couldn't do anything more helpful than wait anxiously for the fucking ambulance.

Gun pinched the bridge of his nose. These injuries wouldn't be a problem for Jinyoung Park. Gun could certainly vouch for that, as he and Goo were regulars in his lab when they were still on probation… when the man was still borderline mentally stable.

He would phone him immediately if he wanted to but decided against it because God knows what that maniac would do to her now at his current state, if he even agrees to tend to her injuries.

Gun withdrew his coat and covered Y/N 's upper body. He rested his left hand on her cold ones in hopes of delaying Death's touch on her.

Honestly, he was at a loss--which was a first; he didn't know what to do with it. But Gun knew he had to stay with Y/N until help arrived.

He curled his hand around Y/N's.

"She is safe. She is strong… She isn't alone."

-

Gun found himself uttering the same chant again as if in prayer.

He always viewed Y/N as a warrior shielding the weak, a saint devotees pray to for protection. She had always put others' well-being above hers--a trait befitting of a nurse.

But that overshadowed the image of blood and bones beneath her soft, paper-thin skin as it was under the guise of a rigid exterior.

Fucked up it may seem, but Gun knows he isn't at fault entirely for what happened: Y/N made her decision, was well aware of the consequences, and still chose to do it.

Even so, he could feel a stinging pang in his chest, telling him that he should've caught up to her had he ran and pushed Y/N and the stupid boy himself. But the four major crews were at peak then, so he ultimately chose to do nothing.

And it tore his heart--something he thought had been long abandoned.

The 'heart' was meant to be just an empty hole where every last bit of tenderness was carved out of his chest. The hollow pit that reminded him of his decision to walk the path of blood… was forcefully filled with infectious laughter, sweet melodies, and soft rhythmic heartbeats of life.

The words "Gun" and "sweet" didn't seem uncharacteristic when put together now, huh.

-

He gazed at what remained of her longingly, reminiscent of memories they'd shared, despite short.

"You painted my heart in different forms that I can hardly call it my own anymore."

Gun's grip on the bouquet tightened.

"We shouldn't even have met--we're worlds apart, for crying out loud. But Fate decided to fuck around people and chose us, I guess."

But at least he was able to see the world in color--for the first and last time.

He was never meant to have it, anyway.

…

…

...

"PFFT--"

Gun jolted on his seat as laughter echoed around the room.

Y/N wheezed. "I didn't know you could be so poetic, Gun Park!"

It took a moment for Gun to process his surroundings.

He is currently in Y/N's bedroom. A relatively small space compared to his bedroom, which is infinitely wider. Her room looks more lively and festive than his empty one, though.

Other than her working table, everything else was decorated with strings of polaroids, LED lights, and stuffed toys ranging from tiny crocheted keychains to life-size pillows randomly decorated the room.

Wow. There's a whole new world to be explored in here.

Gun waved his trailing thoughts away and finally faced Y/N, who sat on her bed. Her lively demeanor didn't cover up her poor condition though, which is painfully understandable.

He should've brought medical supplies that were piling up in his house. And cupcakes, really? He didn't go out for a picnic.

Well, it's nothing worse than her in a casket.

He cleared his throat.

"More importantly, how long since you left the hospital?"

"Two months."

"And you never even contacted me once?"

"Well, you've never visited me since… the accident. I thought you simply forgot about me, you being a busy person and all."

-

He TRIED to forget her, for Christ's sake.

After Kouji tracked the bastard's location with the car's plate number he sent, Gun didn't waste a second and pummeled the hit-and-runner to death.

Then… he carried on to another chapter of his life, as usual.

Gun wholeheartedly believed Y/N was just another fleeting name in his book, just torn scratched pages of requiems lacing love songs that weren't supposed to be written.

So, he let time help him forget.

Spoiler: he never did; he just couldn't. How could he when everywhere he looked, he saw her?

-

"I was… busy at work."

"See? Anyway, that's okay. Don't sweat it, man. My prank made up for it." She laughed it off.

Gun prepared himself for the worst when he entered Y/N 's house; he felt his stoic façade crack as a flash of disappointment in Y/N's face was conjured in his mind.

Her cheerful welcome (sneaky prank) washed all of his worries away.

In the end, it was better than what he anticipated.

"So, how are you feeling?"

She frowned, an eyebrow arched up in disapproval.

"The Gun I know doesn't give a shit about 'feelings'. Who are you and what did you do to him?"

He deadpanned. "Just… answer the question."

"To be honest, I feel like shit right now. Being bedridden for months? Getting injected with pain relievers, tons of prescriptions and rehab sessions, everyday? Now, I know how my patients felt…"

How talkative for someone feeling like shit. Even so, he let her talk–like how they usually did. It felt melancholic.

"...and I was finally discharged. They said I can go back to work when I'm fully recovered." She sent him a toothy grin.

Her eyes landed on the bouquet in his arms, and cocked her head to the side.

"Are those white chrysanthemums?"

"...Yes." He could almost see a question mark form on her lips.

"Dude, you thought I died or something? Why bring 'mourning' flowers?" She giggled.

"No? But…" He set down the bouquet on her bed.

"I heard that they have other meanings…"

"Oh? What are they?"

He plucked two flowers from the bouquet and inched closer to Y/N.

'Eternal…' he tucked one of them behind her ear.

'...and devoted love.' he pried her hands open and placed the second flower on them.

Gun rested his forehead on her shoulder, his eyes welled up at the contact.

He couldn't say the words out loud.

Not after leaving her when she was at her lowest.

...

Ugh.

This isn't how he planned it to go.

He really did love her--but he was also selfish. Distancing himself didn't do any better for the both of them; quite the contrary.

Would stitching back the torn pages heal their wounded hearts this time? Let their colors paint over the dried stains of their past and turn over a new chapter?

-

Splashes of rain decorated her bedroom window. The colors in her room desaturated as evening enveloped the sky.

"Gun," Y/N held his arms, squeezing them. "It's getting dark. I'm gonna turn on the lights."

"Let's… stay like this for a while." was Gun's only response.

…

Their close proximity. The familiar scent of her detergent. The nostalgic periods of tapping raindrops. The yoke of her shirt getting wet.

It was similar to their first meeting but a little different.

Y/N felt him shake. She chuckled and rubbed circles around his back.

"What's up with you, dummy? It's not even that cold."

[goldengleams]

wherever you stray, i follow | cole caufield x reader

In which Cole asks you to meet his family.

A little moment for the cutest hockey player out there-Mr. Cole Caufield!!

Warnings: none, just fluff!!

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It was Saturday and you were out on the golf course with Cole. This had become a common occurrence in your relationship, as you both liked to golf, even if you weren’t anywhere near as good as he was. You just loved spending as much time with Cole as you could in the off-season.

As you reached the 9th hole, the early morning sun was just starting to turn hot. You and Cole had woken up early to play nine holes and you were glad for his golf expertise on the selection of the tee time. You took a drink of water as you leaned against the cart.

Cole was standing confidently in the tee box, squaring up his shoulders and getting ready for his driver shot. He swung, his club connecting perfectly with the ball to send it soaring up in the air.

“Nice shot, C!” You called.

Cole only bragged jokingly on the course, typically tossing jokes back and forth between the two of you, but today he was quiet. You knew you weren’t great at the sport, but Cole loved that you tried your hardest and practiced with him. You could see the small smile on his face behind your sunglasses as he reached to pick up his tee.

“Your turn, babe,” Cole mumbled as he walked past you to the cart.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Cole continued to stay turned away from you, checking his phone once again. You knew it was early, but you were lost as to why Cole had gotten quieter as the morning had gone on. It seemed like he was focused on something, especially something in his phone.

You brushed off Cole’s behavior to take your shot. Cole barely seemed to notice your swing, not offering you any sweet compliments or loving words of advice.

“Ready to go?” Cole asked, eyes finally lifting from his phone as he started your golf cart to find your ball. His hand had failed to find its spot on your thigh as you drove along in silence. In a way, it reminded you of the first time you had gone golfing with Cole, back when everything was so new to the both of you.

“Y/N? Is this alright?” Cole had asked at the time. You were approaching the green at the last hole, the shade and brush from the large willow tree near the side hiding the blush from your cheeks. Cole slid his hand on your thigh and for the first time that day, you felt calm. You were no longer worried about who would see you two or if you were actually exclusive. Cole had made all of that clear, and he was always there to help you understand that he really liked you.

“Yeah, totally not trying to distract me from my winning shot,” you had said, caught off guard when his hand rested on your thigh. Cole had laughed, bantering with you about the close match.

He had pulled off the path, hiding under the large willow tree for some shade. With a finger under your chin, lightly motioning you forward, he kissed you. He had probably said some cheesy line, but it didn’t matter. Butterflies still went crazy in your stomach for Cole.

“My golfer,” he had whispered, conveying his happiness that you were there. “This tree is pretty big y’know, no one would see us if we…”

“Don’t, Caufield.”

“Hey, c’mon,” he had laughed. “It’ll be our tree, we can mark it!”

But now, as you approached the tree, your unmarked tree, you didn’t have butterflies. Cole had been acting weird and it was starting to make you uneasy. In the past week, Cole had finalized his plans to travel to some different events for PR, see his old hockey friends to train, and then go home to see his family. You understood what you had signed up for when you started dating Cole and didn’t mind his schedule, but your worrying was getting the better of you.

The cart came to a stop near your ball, yours was first, as usual. Cole was looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” you said, trying to collect yourself as you approached your shot. You gave it a swing, sending your ball closer to where Cole’s was sitting right on the fairway. You approached him again on the golf cart.

“You leave for all of your events and things next week, right?” You asked as Cole started driving.

Cole swallowed slowly and nodded. “Yeah, it should be alright.”

You knew Cole was a little nervous getting back into the swing of training and playing after his shoulder surgery, but you knew he could do it.

“Well, I’ll keep your house warm while you’re gone,” you joked. “I’ll be lonely without you, C.”

Your quiet admittance of the words that hung between you seemed to snap Cole out of whatever trance he had been in for the last few days.

“So come with me to Wisconsin,” he blurted out, quickly finding your hand with his as he hit the brake. “I think the Grand Prix is just a guys thing, and so is training, but I would love for you to come to Wisconsin.” You met his eyes as he looked at you with a hesitant gaze. You were pretty shocked-Cole was asking you to go home with him. To meet his friends and his family.

You couldn’t help the wide smile that broke out on your face. “Is this why you were being weird and quiet, Coley?”

Cole pulled away from your hands that had started to caress his face. You knew he was serious when he moved away from your touch.

“Yeah, I just want you to be a part of my summer,” he said. “You helped me through the winter, which is long as shit in Montreal and now I want fun summer memories with you.”

You leaned up to give him a kiss, tasting hints of his drink on his lips. He closed the space between you quickly.

“Oh,” he mumbled, pulling away. “Did I mention there’s also a wedding? My cousin is also getting married and she was practically begging me to invite you, so I hope you’re ready to meet the Caufield’s because they know a lot about you.”

You threw your head back and laughed. Cole didn’t get very nervous, but when he did, he always rambled a little.

“No, you didn’t say it was for a wedding, but I’d be honored to be your plus-one, Cole.” You swore Cole’s eyes lit up when you said it. You would be his date any day.

“All good things happen at this willow tree,” Cole said, amused. “Remind me to ask you to marry me here.”

You smacked his chest, a little taken back. In the midday light, Cole’s skin shone and his hair glistened. You ran a hand up his arm to silently reassure him.

“You may be pushing it, but I wouldn’t be mad about it, C.”

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Hope you guys liked this! Cole Caufield is too cute not to write a fluffy little blurb for🥹 send in some requests if you want to see more posts like this!!

…part 2?

[munsonluhvr]

♡ the 1 | steve harrington x reader (ex-high school lovers) (record player series #4) word count - 948 words

“It would have been fun if you could've been the one…”

The sun shines brightly across your face as you make your way to the farmer’s market that is set up across the town square – families and individuals bustle across the closed down streets, shopping for the best fruits and veggies in all of Hawkins, Indiana. Nearly the whole town of Hawkins is at the market and carry large brown paper bags, busting at the seams with their purchases.

You weave your way through the crowd, taking a peak at what each tent has to offer – all the fruit and vegetables you can imagine, mixed in with sweet-smelling homemade candles and soaps. You feel a sense of calmness as this is the first town event you’ve been to since returning home to Hawkins after graduating college. Since you’ve been home, you’ve had countless encounters with old classmates, allowing you to reminisce about your times at Hawkins High School – all of which feels so long ago.

You continue to walk, bumping shoulders with those who walk through Hawkins Square. You were sent to the farmer’s market by your mother to pick up apples for her and you scanned until you found the tent for the apples. You budge your way through the crowd, politely saying ‘excuse me’ as you cut across. With one last soft nudge, you cut in front of the last person to be able to make it to the booth. “Y/n? Is that really you?” A voice that’s all too familiar says from beside you, causing you to stop your pursuit of apples.

You turn slightly, the sun igniting behind you. Your breath escapes your lips, a soft sigh escaping too. “Steve?” you say, a nervous flair taking over your body. You feel goosebumps begin to rise on your forearms.

The sun shines brightly onto his face, highlighting his deep brown locks, and beautiful facial features, yet he lifts up his infamous sunglasses to get a good, real look at you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since graduation,” Steve says softly. “And that’s been nearly four years now, isn’t that right?”

You nod slowly, the sorest of memories rushing back to you. Steve Harrington is your high-school boyfriend, your ex-boyfriend, and while it’s been numerous years since you’ve seen or talked to him, you’re sure, as you stand in front of him, that the love you had for him has never gone away – you’ve carried him with you since the day you parted ways.

Steve holds a full bag of what you assume is vegetables, leavy greens sticking up at the top of the bag and shifts it between his arms nervously. “I’ve heard that you’ve been in and out of town from Nancy and Eddie, but I’ve never caught sight of you myself.”

All around you, the farmers market continues to flourish, laughter and voices coming from every direction yet all you can focus on is Steve and the way you daydreamed about him holding you as a way to soothe yourself to sleep your first year of college. It truly had been the best decision for you and Steve to part ways, you went to college elsewhere in the state and he had decided to stay near Hawkins and work. The breakup was bittersweet; as graduation loomed in the nearby distance, you both knew it was coming. While you were on good terms, and hardly talked since you left for college, there always was the feeling of unfinished business – the acknowledgment that you’d find each other again someday.

“Well,” you say, feeling like being honest. You smile, looking at the way his brown eyes twinkle against the sun. “I always ask Nancy how you’re doing so I’ve been keeping my tabs on you.”

Steve laughs, his mouth widening into a blinding white smile. He runs a hand through his fluffy brown hair that he’s let grow out. “Even though it’s been years, I feel like I just saw you yesterday. You haven’t changed a single bit, y/n.”

You shrug, a light breeze tossing a few strands across your face. You lift your hand, swiping them away. “You know how it goes, Steve. I had to make I didn’t change too much so you’d still recognize me after all these years.”

Steve smiles, his big, brown eyes sparkling like gems against the sun. “Like I could ever forget your face, y/n.”

Beads of sweat begin to gather at your hairline. You swallow hard, Steve’s comment causing heat to creep down your neck. You open your mouth to speak but find that nothing comes out. You attempt to quickly rack your brain to think of a witty response but draw a blank. Silence hangs in there air, though Steve seems unphased by it.

“Would you want to go out for dinner while you’re back?” Steve asks, his head tilting to the side. “We probably have a lot of catching up to do, don’t you think?”

You nod slowly, unable to take your eyes off of Steve. “Yes, I’d love to.”

Steve nods too, shifting the brown paper bag that is bursting with fresh vegetables and fruits in his arms. “Maybe sometime this weekend, I can give your house a call to figure out what time works for you.”

You nod again, butterflies flapping their wings in your stomach. “O-Okay.”

“You know, I’ve always thought we’d get back together some day. Maybe now is our time.” Steve says with a lopsided smile and twinkle in his eye. “Well, I better get these groceries back to my parent’s, they’re probably wondering what’s taking me so long.”

You smile, continuously flustered. “Of course, talk to you soon, Steve.”

[world-of-wales]

CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2024

14 JULY 2024 || The Princess of Wales attended the Gentlemen's Singles Final on day fourteen of Wimbledon Tennis Championships in London.

Catherine was in -

↬ 'Cecilia' Midi Dress in Lilac by Safiyaa ↬ 'Sabine' Medium Hoop Earrings in Gold by By Pariah ↬ Hammered Torque Bangle in 'Forget-Me-Not & Gold' by Halcyon Days ↬ 'Salamander' Torque Bracelet in 'Forget-Me-Not' by Halcyon Days ↬ Wimbledon Green & Wimbledon Purple Member's Bow Pin ↬ Square Sunglasses in 'Black' by Victoria Beckham ↬ 'Milly' Mini Handheld Bag in 'Trench Leather' by L.K. Bennett ↬ 'Lucia' Slingback Pumps in 'Tan' by Camilla Elphick