After years of navigating the complexities of a long-distance relationship, you and Yuki finally found a moment in your busy schedules for a short getaway. Quickly deciding on Florence, a city that seemed to perfectly embody your dreams of romance and history. As you and Yuki walk through its cobblestone streets, exploring its art-filled museums and enjoying its quaint cafes, you find yourselves enveloped in the very essence of a long-awaited reunion. The city’s timeless charm mirrored the depth of your connection, making the time together both magical and unforgettable.

The days were filled with joy as you two explored the city's narrow streets, visited the Uffizi Gallery, and enjoyed meals at quaint trattorias. Wandering hand-in-hand, savoring the rare opportunity to be together without the constant scrutiny of your public lives.

One sunny afternoon, you find a charming café deeply hidden in the alleyways, you look at Yuki with a bright smile. "How about we sit here? I've heard their espresso and tiramisu is fantastic! Plus, since it is a bit secluded we won't have to worry too much about someone spotting us."

Yuki’s eyes twinkled with affection. "That sounds perfect. I trust your taste completely."

As you settled at your table, enjoying your coffee and each other's company, a sudden burst of camera flashes disrupted your peaceful afternoon. Paparazzi, ever on the lookout for a story, had caught you in your private moment. You exchanged startled glances with Yuki, realizing your carefully planned escape had been compromised.

Looking around frantically, you tried to find a waiter who could help you find a more private spot. Yuki, his face hardened with determination, grasped your hands and said, "Hey, look at me. Don’t panic. It’s okay, what happened has already happened. Let’s try to enjoy the rest of our day. We will deal with the consequences later."

You squeezed his hand, offering a reassuring smile as you settled your anxiety and nerves. "Okay. We’ve faced challenges before, so we can handle this together."

Despite your efforts to stay calm, the media frenzy that followed made your vacation far from relaxing.

—

The morning after the photos were leaked, you and Yuki awoke to a media storm. Dispatch had published an exclusive article titled "An Italian Getaway: The Secret Romance Between Korean Idol and Japanese Volleyball Captain!" The article featured several intimate photos of you and Yuki from your Italian vacation, and it didn’t take long for the story to spread across various media platforms.

Your phone buzzed incessantly with notifications. You felt a mix of anxiety and resolve as you read messages from friends. Seungkwan, Dokyeom, and Mingyu all reached out in your group chat.

Seungkwan's message appeared first: "Y/N, are you really dating my volleyball idol? Is it true about you and Ishikawa? You know we’re here for you, no matter what."

You took a deep breath and typed a response. "Yes, it’s true. Yuki and I have been together for a long time. We kept it private because of our careers, but now that it’s out, we’re ready to face it."

Dokyeom's message followed quickly: "I’m glad you’re open about it. We’re all here for you. How are you holding up?"

You sighed, feeling a mix of relief and worry. "It’s overwhelming, but I’m managing. Thanks for your support."

On Yuki’s side, his teammates in Japan were also reacting. His phone buzzed with messages from their group chat, which was now exploding with notifications.

[Group Chat: Japan Volleyball Team]

Ran: "Congratulations on your relationship, Captain! Can I ask for a favor, can you ask Y/N for an autograph? I need it for my collection!"

Otsuka: "Seriously, congrats, Captain! You’ve always been such a mystery with your personal life. It’s great to see you so happy."

Yamauchi: "Yuki, about time you got into a relationship. We were worried you’d stay single forever!"

Nishida: "Wow, I can’t believe it’s Y/N. That’s huge! I’m sure you both make a great couple."

Yuki read the messages with amusement. He scoffed at the playful jabs but appreciated the genuine congratulations from his teammates. Smiling, he typed a response: "Thank you for the messages, guys. I’ll definitely ask Y/N for an autograph for you, Ran."

He hit send, shaking his head with a chuckle. The reactions from his teammates were a comforting reminder of the support he had, even amidst the chaos of the media frenzy. Their messages provided relief and laughter, helping him navigate the challenging situation with camaraderie and humor.

—

As the Paris 2024 Olympics approached, Yuki dedicated himself fully to his training, and you prepared for your own activities. You had planned to make a meaningful public statement after the Olympics, marking both your relationship and Yuki’s achievements.

When Yuki’s team won the gold medal after weeks of challenges and hardships, the moment was both triumphant and emotionally charged. You felt an overwhelming sense of pride and joy. Your shared victory was a testament to your resilience and love.

Later that night, you and Yuki sat in your hotel room, the weight of the day’s events sinking in. You were preparing a special Instagram post. "Are you ready for this?" you asked Yuki, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Yuki, his gaze soft and full of affection, nodded. "Yes. It’s time for the fans to know the truth. I want to celebrate our journey."

You uploaded a series of images to your Instagram story. The first few photos were nostalgic, showing your high school days, candid vacation moments, and various milestones in your relationship. The final image was the most powerful: you and Yuki in the now-empty Olympic volleyball arena, sharing a sweet kiss on his cheek with your arms propped around his neck, with Yuki holding onto the gold medal in one hand and your waist in the other.

The caption read: "Happy 10 years, my captain ♡ to many more years with you"

The post quickly went viral, with fans from both Korea and Japan, as well as across the globe, flooding your feeds with messages of congratulations and support. A hashtag for your relationship trended on Twitter, symbolizing your love story and the strength of your bond.

You were inundated with heartfelt messages from friends and fans. Sana from Twice reached out with a warm message: "I’m so happy for you both! Your love story is truly inspiring. Congratulations!"

You responded with gratitude: "Thank you, Unnie. Your support means so much to us!"

—

The final show of your Japan tour was set to take place at the iconic Nissan Stadium in Yokohama, a grand venue that held a special place in your heart. The stage was set, the lights were dazzling, and the anticipation in the air was palpable. This concert marked the culmination of a successful tour, and you wanted it to be unforgettable.

As you prepared to go on stage, your heart raced with excitement. You had planned something special—not just for your fans, but for Yuki. The Japanese volleyball team had been given special VIP seats for the concert from your management company, and Yuki was among them. You wanted to honor Yuki and your relationship in front of thousands of devoted fans, and you had a surprise planned.

The concert began with an electrifying opening number, your powerful voice filling the stadium as you sang your heart out. The crowd’s energy was contagious, and you fed off their enthusiasm, performing with an intensity that matched your excitement.

Midway through the concert, during a particularly emotional ballad, you signaled to your camera crew. You had a special request that you hoped would add a personal touch to the evening. The crew quickly understood and prepared for the transition.

As the song reached its crescendo, you gestured towards the camera with a bright smile. "We have a very special guest here tonight, and I’d like to share that with you all," you announced through your mic, your voice full of emotion.

The camera panned away from the stage and began to move towards the special VIP balcony, where Yuki and the volleyball team were seated. The crowd’s murmur grew into excited whispers as the camera drew closer. Your fans recognized Yuki and the volleyball team, and the energy in the stadium surged with excitement.

You took a deep breath, your voice steady but filled with warmth. "I want to take a moment to thank someone very special to me. Yuki, you’ve been my rock and my greatest support throughout this journey. This night is dedicated to you and our love."

As you sang the final notes of the ballad, your eyes locked with Yuki’s. The connection between you was palpable, and the sincerity in your gaze spoke volumes. The audience, moved by the gesture, responded with cheers and applause that echoed throughout the stadium.

The camera then returned to you on stage, capturing your radiant smile and the way you seemed to glow with happiness. You continued to perform with renewed energy, your heart lightened by the visible support from Yuki and the volleyball team.

After the concert, you and your bandmates were backstage, basking in the afterglow of a successful show. The atmosphere was jubilant, filled with laughter and congratulations. Yuki and his teammates made their way backstage to meet you, and the reunion was filled with warmth and affection.

Yuki pulled you into a tight embrace, his eyes shining with pride. "Amore mio, you were amazing tonight. I’m so proud of you."

You looked up at him with a beaming smile. "Thank you, Yuki. Having you here means everything to me. I wanted to share this moment with you."

As you stood together, surrounded by friends and colleagues, Sana and Momo from Twice approached with a smile. "The concert was incredible, Y/N. And you two looked so happy together. I’m really glad to see you both celebrating."

You hugged both of them warmly. "Thank you, Sana. Your support has been so meaningful to us."

As the evening wound down, you and Yuki took a quiet moment together, stepping outside to enjoy the cool night air. You stood on a balcony overlooking the city, the lights of Yokohama twinkling below.

"This tour has been incredible," you said, leaning against the railing. "But tonight was really special."

Yuki nodded, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. "It was perfect. Thank you for making me a part of it."

You rested your head on Yuki’s shoulder, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "Here’s to many more moments like this."

As you stood together, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the promise of a bright future. Your love had endured through the highs and lows, and now, with your relationship celebrated publicly, you looked forward to what lay ahead, knowing that you could face any challenge together.

Leaning back against your pillows, Eddie watched as you pulled one dress after another out of your closet and held them up against your frame in the reflection of the full length mirror.

He couldn’t understand why you were making such a fuss. In all the time he’d known you, you’d never shown much interest in dating.

Besides, Bobby sounded boring, and just like every other douchebag with a sports car who’d probably never had an original thought in their life.

And since when had you started caring about things like flashy cars? You had always seemed perfectly content to ride around town in his van.

Eddie didn’t like this new development one bit.

You had moved to Hawkins two years prior when you’d enrolled in the secretarial sciences program at the community college. To help with rent, you’d taken a part time job at the town library, working mostly weekends and some evenings when your classes didn’t run too late.

On your first day at the library, Eddie had approached you at the desk, hoping to put the latest Terry Pratchett book on hold. When you had looked up at him through your lashes and flashed him your sweetest smile, that had been it for him. He was immediately a goner.

Being a bit quiet and shy, you’d found it hard to make new friends in the close-knit town, but Eddie had taken you under his wing right away.

Since that day you’d been inseparable.

As you got to know him better, you found that despite his metal image, Eddie was a really sweet and sensitive guy. He was also fiercely loyal and protective of his friends, but you held a sacred place above all the rest.

In his eyes you were perfect. His angel.

The upcoming dinner with Bobby was going to be your first date since moving to Hawkins, and you were admittedly a bit nervous. College guys seemed so worldly — and you hadn’t been on many dates, or even had a real relationship to speak of.

It wasn’t that guys never tried to approach you, but when they did you never knew what to say back, and the conversations soon fizzled out and went nowhere.

You’d been kissed a few times over the years, but that was pretty much it.

You knew there was nothing wrong with still being a virgin at your age, but sometimes you felt a bit insecure about your lack of experience. Thankfully the topic wasn’t something that typically came up in casual conversation.

That was, until one night when you had one too many drinks at the Hideout and divulged the information to Eddie.

To your surprise, he hadn’t laughed or teased you when you confided in him that you were still a virgin. In fact, he’d encouraged it, telling you that saving yourself for the right person would only make sex better in the end.

“Guys like these,” he’d warned as he pointed out random men around the bar, “are only after one thing.”

And being a man himself, you supposed that he would know — not that he ever talked about girls around you.

Come to think of it, Eddie hadn’t gone out with anyone since the two of you had started hanging out, which you found strange considering how attractive and outgoing he was.

You couldn’t deny that you thought Eddie was very handsome, and at first you’d even had a little crush on the metalhead. But after a few months had passed and he never made a move, you’d resigned yourself to just being his friend. Which was fine.

In some ways it was kind of a relief that you could let your guard down around him, knowing he didn’t have some hidden agenda to get into your pants.

Though, after a while you started to notice things here and there that gave you pause.

Like how sometimes things would go missing after he visited your apartment.

It was never anything big, usually just small items of clothing or personal trinkets. You felt guilty for even considering that Eddie had taken them, and you couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t exactly something you could just come out and ask him over milkshakes.

Not wanting to falsely accuse your friend and risk hurting his feelings, you let it slide. Besides, you did have a tendency to misplace things, and your missing underwear always turned up eventually.

Then there was the time you’d found his porn.

Finding his secret stash had been innocent on your part, and again, not something you could really blame on Eddie.

One evening he’d left you alone at his place to go sell weed a few trailers down. You’d lost an earring in his room and when you had gotten down to look for it, you’d noticed the ear of a magazine sticking out from underneath his bed. When you’d pulled it out to see what it was, you’d found a treasure trove of nudie magazines and videos with raunchy cover art.

Fascinated, you’d spread the magazines out on his floor.

You’d never seen a nude magazine before, other than a quick glance at the plastic covered issues hidden in the back of the rack at the convenience store. You studied the women’s breasts, hips and thighs, enchanted by their sultry poses and exposed flesh.

As you flipped through the issues you’d found that some pages looked much more well worn than others, and that it definitely looked like Eddie had a type.

You supposed that if you wanted to overthink things, the girls on those pages might have looked a bit a lot like you. It was actually kind of flattering to be honest.

The titles of the video tapes, though? Not ones you’d ever repeat out loud to anyone. They were so dirty. So very, very dirty.

After getting your fill, you’d shoved the pile of porn back under his bed before he got home, and you never mentioned to him that you’d found it.

You rationalized that it was normal for a single man of his age to look at porn. Even though you’d never gone all the way, you weren’t oblivious to how things worked. You knew guys sometimes needed a release, and it wasn’t like Eddie had a girlfriend.

You told yourself you were probably just imagining any resemblance between you and the women. Eddie would never look at you that way, and it wasn’t like he’d ever done anything to make you think otherwise.

Sure, he was affectionate. Always hugging you or resting a hand on your thigh. Sometimes he liked to hold your hand or cuddle with you while you watched TV, but you were sure that didn’t mean anything. You were just really good friends.

Whenever the two of you watched movies in his room, he liked to sit with you snuggled between his legs with your back against his chest. You’d feel so safe and warm as he’d rub soft, comforting circles over your arms or thighs.

Of course, the first time you’d noticed his hard-on poking into your back it had been a little bit awkward, but you’d supposed that wasn’t totally his fault. He likely couldn’t help it if his body reacted to your innocent touches or when you’d wiggle between his legs during the scary parts of the movie.

To avoid embarrassing Eddie, you just pretended you didn’t notice and tried to ignore the firm heat of his cock against your back, though it wasn’t easy.

To be fair, you’d never been close friends with any other guys before, so there was a chance you were blowing everything out of proportion. It was probably nothing.

But still, you had to wonder.

Of course, if anyone had asked Eddie, he would have insisted his intentions for you were nothing but pure. You were his angelic best friend who was totally off limits.

He wasn’t a bad guy.

He knew it would have been wrong to let his hand linger on the soft swell of your bottom when you needed a boost into the passenger seat of his van.

And definitely wrong to lie in bed at night picturing his naughty little librarian, pencil skirt hiked up around your waist and silk blouse pulled open to expose your perfect breasts.

And so very, very wrong to stroke his thick cock to that image, or to imagine his head between your thighs on the circulation desk, lapping at your sweet pussy until you creamed all over his tongue.

He wasn’t a pervert.

Ok sure, sometimes he’d rifle through your things when you weren’t around, but he was just a curious person by nature. He’d never spent much time around girls growing up, and liked the colorful silk and lace of your panties and bras.

And so what if he’d taken a few pairs of your underwear here and there? It’s not like it was hurting anyone. He always returned them later, and made sure to take the worn ones from the laundry hamper so as to leave you plenty of clean pairs fresh in your drawer.

You were the apple of Eddie’s eye, and as your best friend he took it upon himself to protect you from the bad guys out there. Guys who might not have had the purest of intentions at heart.

Did Eddie threaten anyone who showed the slightest interest in you? Yes, but he was only looking out for his sweet best friend. He couldn’t be sure of their motives, and nobody was good enough for his girl.

So when you’d announced that you’d been asked out on a date and had accepted, it was a shock to say the least. He didn’t take the news well.

You see, it just wasn’t fair.

Ever since the day that you’d confessed you were a virgin, Eddie had been consumed with a burning desire to be your first.

But he never tried to rush you. He could be patient.

He had denied himself for so long, edging himself for two whole years with the belief, no, the knowledge, that he would be the one.

He would get painfully hard just thinking about the first time he’d push inside, how you’d feel so tight and warm around his cock.

At times the temptation to give in and tell you how he felt had almost been too strong, but he’d held himself back, not wanting to lose your trust. You only saw him as a friend. What if you got upset and never spoke to him again? He couldn’t bear the thought.

He knew eventually you’d come around and realize he was the one. He just had to be patient and bide his time.

But now you had a date? Someone else might get that honor after years of him getting to know you and building your trust? No, no, no.

Who was this Bobby guy, anyway?

You’d told Eddie that he was a business major and in his final year of college. Eddie had never heard of him before, and he knew everyone in town. Was Bobby even his real name?

He sounded like a jerk, like a real asshole, and Eddie would be damned if Bobby thought you were his to take.

That Friday night you paced your small apartment fretting over your date the next evening.

Bobby was so handsome and charming. You imagined that he’d probably dated women who were much more experienced than you. What if things went well and he wanted to fool around? Would you even have the first clue what to do?

You wished there was a way to just magically know how to be good in bed.

The only books you’d found in the library were either very clinical or bodice rippers that used so many euphemisms you weren’t even sure what body parts they were talking about in the end. What the hell was a “hidden cavern” supposed to be anyway?

Eventually your mind drifted to the videos you’d found under Eddie’s bed. They were the closest thing you could think of to a sex how-to guide.

You supposed it couldn’t hurt to try.

In the grip of desperation, you decided to pay your best friend a visit.

Before you arrived, Eddie had been locked in his bedroom listening to very loud metal - totally not because he was upset about your date - so it took him a few minutes to hear you knocking and open the door.

When he did, you noticed his eyes looked a little red and puffy, but you didn’t have time to ask him what was wrong.

You cut right to the chase.

“Eddie, I’d like to borrow your porn.”

He almost choked. “Come again?”

“I know you have…videos. And I’m not going to Family Video to rent one from your friend Steve. Can I borrow one, please?”

“What…makes you think I have those types of videos?” he stammered.

“I saw them,” you confessed. “I’m sorry. I found them under your bed.”

Eddie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His perfect best friend had found his stash of porn while snooping through his room.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t even upset that you’d gone through his private things. His cock twitched at the thought of an angel like you seeing such depraved filth. You were so sweet — had you really held his copy of Cum Guzzlers 4 in your perfect hands?

He felt weak in the knees.

“But why do you want to watch something like that?” He was genuinely curious. The request was completely out of character for you.

“I have no idea what I’m doing!” you cried throwing your hands in the air. “I was hoping if I watched one before my date it might…help.”

Eddie stared at you for a moment, his heart beating like a drum in his chest. The thought of you watching dirty videos sounded like a dream, but your reason for wanting to was not.

“Ok,” he relented. “I’ll let you watch one, but on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

You couldn’t think of what he could possibly want in return.

“You have to watch it with me.” When he spoke, you noticed Eddie’s eyes looked darker than when he’d first answered the door.

You bit your lip as you considered his offer. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to stay, but you reasoned it might be nice to have him there if you had any questions.

“Fine.” You shrugged, and he moved to let you walk through the door.

You followed him into his bedroom and sat primly at the edge of the mattress while he kneeled to rifle underneath the bed.

He muttered to himself as he sorted through the videos, finally deciding on one and holding it up with a devilish smirk plastered across his face.

“This’ll do.”

He slid the tape out of its case and popped it into the VCR before turning to look at where you sat uncomfortable and rigid on the bed.

“You ok?” he asked quietly, as he settled next to you. He made sure to press the side of his thigh against yours. It didn’t feel right asking you to cuddle considering what you were about to watch.

You nodded and took a deep, calming breath.

The video started with a woman answering the door of what looked like an apartment. Her breasts were almost obscenely pushed up in her top and her skirt was barely existent. You scoffed at her unrealistic outfit. Nobody just walked around the house in a getup like that, did they?

You looked over at Eddie, who was watching intently. He didn’t seem bothered by her impractical wardrobe.

In the movie, there was a delivery man at the door and they must have known each other, because soon their clothing was off and the fun began.

You stared with wide eyes at the screen, unable to look away as the man and woman engaged in acts that you’d never imagined in your wildest dreams.

For some reason you’d always pictured sex the way it was shown on TV in soap operas — strategically covered bodies moving together as they made love under satin sheets. But this was raw. This was fucking. And you couldn’t look away.

As the woman in the movie knelt down to give the delivery man a blowjob, Eddie snuck a sideways glance over at you. He imagined what it would be like to have you kneeling down before him, your soft eyes looking up at him while you wrapped your pretty lips around his—

“How does she fit all of that in her mouth?” you whispered with horrified curiosity.

“Where there’s a will there’s a way, I guess?” he joked uncomfortably, thanking his lucky stars that his voice didn’t break and betray him. Shit, he was getting so hard.

Eventually you started to become uncomfortable, but not because you didn’t like the movie. It was because you liked it. Really liked it.

You could feel your pussy getting wet. Dripping. Aching. You wanted so badly to sneak out of Eddie’s room and touch yourself in the privacy of his bathroom, but you knew he’d probably catch on to what you were doing.

He must have noticed you squirming because he finally hit pause on the remote.

The man in the video had started to perform oral sex on the woman, and the paused display was a frozen image of his face buried in her pussy.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, his voice sounding thicker than usual.

“Um, nothing,” you squeaked, rubbing your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure that was driving you to distraction.

“Do you want me to turn it off?” Eddie’s eyes were filled with concern but you shook you head.

“No. I like it. It’s just…”

He smiled knowingly and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s okay if you’re turned on. That’s kind of the point.”

“I know…” You smiled shyly and looked down at your hands. “I guess I just didn’t expect to like it quite this much…especially…what they’re doing right now.”

Eddie almost died right then and there, but he had to recover quickly. The situation with you was delicate and he needed to play his cards just right.

He knew this was his last chance before he lost you to Bobby forever, and he was so close.

He could feel it.

“Yeah, it’s very hot,” he agreed smoothly, making sure his voice remained casual. “Feels even better than it looks, or so I hear.”

“Yeah?” You didn’t sound convinced. “Have you ever done that before?”

“Eating pussy? Yeah, lots of times.” He grinned.

“Oh.”

You felt a strange sensation grow in the pit of your stomach at his admission. You didn’t like the idea of Eddie doing that with anyone.

Suddenly your mind conjured up the image of Eddie’s face looking up from between your thighs, his plush lips slick and shiny with your release.

You tried to will yourself not to get distracted.

“The movie’s fine, but I don’t think it’s what I needed. I mean…it’s just not very realistic.”

You shrugged and went to stand up. “Maybe I should go.”

“No!” Eddie put a hand on your arm. He hadn’t meant to sound so alarmed, but he was desperate for you to stay.

“This might sound a bit out there, but what if I helped you out instead?” he offered.

Your eyes went wide.

“Help me? How?”

“Well, maybe I could show you some things — just as a friend,” he quickly added. “You know, like research. Help you figure out what you like. Plus, I can give you my professional opinion.”

“Professional?” You laughed, but then furrowed your brows. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? We’re friends, won’t it make it weird?”

Eddie pretended to thoughtfully consider your words, pushing down the exquisite hope that was blooming in his chest.

“You trust me, right?” he asked softly. “Who better to help you out than your best friend? Would you really rather wait for a stranger?”

He placed a finger under your chin to force you to look up and meet his gaze. Your head suddenly felt a bit fuzzy, and all you could think was that no, you supposed you wouldn’t.

“Ok,” you yielded with a soft exhale. “But how’s it supposed to work?”

He kept his finger on your chin, his dark eyes burning into yours.

“First, you need to learn to ask for what you want.”

You hesitated, unsure of what to say.

“Tell me,” he coaxed. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know…” you said haltingly. “I guess…I want you to do that.” You gestured at the frozen TV screen.

“You want me to eat your pussy?” His voice was a low, thick rasp. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Without another word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, soft at first and then deeper, his tongue dancing over yours as his hand gently gripped your chin.

When he finally pulled back, you noticed a rosy flush had spread across the tops of his cheeks.

You were at a loss for words. The kiss had sparked a yearning deep inside that you’d buried for so long.

And where had Eddie learned to kiss like that?

“Sorry,” he said with a soft chuckle as he met your longing gaze. “Just felt like maybe we should start out slow before jumping right to business.”

“No…that’s good…that’s ok,” you stammered. “We should probably pretend that it’s real…for research purposes.”

“Right.” Eddie’s eyes went wide as he stared into yours. “Then I guess this is normally when I’d start to take off your clothes. Is that ok?”

You nodded and he helped you lift your shirt off over your head, leaving you sitting in just your bra. It must have been a new one because Eddie didn’t recognize it. The sheer lace of the cups hugged your breasts just right, and the sight momentarily took his breath away.

He had pictured your tits so many times, but seeing them up close was better than he could have imagined. He reached out to cup one in his hand, gently squeezing it a few times.

“Yeah, your boobs…they’re good. Professionally speaking.”

You giggled at Eddie’s dazed expression, which caused your breasts to bounce in the delicate lace. His hungry eyes followed their jiggly movement.

You went to stand up from the bed to take off your skirt but he stopped you, prompting you to sit back down.

Eddie had spent two whole years fantasizing about that very moment, and he wanted to be the one to unwrap his present.

“Let me do it, okay?”

Wasting no time, he swiftly got down before you, placing one of his big hands on each of your knees. You couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation of what you knew was coming.

“You can tell me to stop if you don’t like it, ok?”

His big brown eyes looked up at you from where he was kneeling on the floor and a warm feeling swelled inside your chest.

Eddie was so beautiful and such a good friend. In that moment you could almost forget that he was only trying to help you out. It felt so real.

You took a deep breath and nodded to signal you were ready. Then you leaned back, propped up on your elbows so you could watch.

Eddie pushed your skirt up in soft folds around your waist, then gently coaxed your knees apart.

He had to bite back a groan at the sight of you spread out before him. Your panties were already soaked and the thin strip of wet silk was wedged between the puffy lips of your pussy. He remembered that pair. They were one of his favorites.

“Just going to take these off,” he told you, willing his voice to remain steady. He ran a finger over the silky crotch, making sure to press down over your clit, and was rewarded with a soft moan.

He worked your panties down your legs and then shoved them under his bed for safe keeping. As he nudged your thighs apart, he marveled at the sight of your bare pussy, wet and glistening before him.

“Is it—what do you think? Professionally?” you asked breathlessly.

Eddie had gotten so wrapped up in the moment that he’d almost forgotten that he was supposed to be helping you out.

“It’s fucking perfect, sweetheart. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

And he wasn’t lying. You were perfect.

He gently spread your folds to reveal your swollen clit, his fingertips gliding with delicious friction over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Aww, she’s just aching,” he cooed, his voice mockingly sweet. You could feel his warm breath fan over you as he moved closer.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and flicking his tongue over it just once, just the slightest graze, and you let out a broken whine and writhed beneath his touch.

He inhaled deeply. Your scent was intoxicating.

Keeping his eyes on yours, he wrapped his plush lips around your clit, then started to flick his tongue over it in a steady rhythm.

You gasped and gripped his wrinkled bedsheets, holding on for dear life. It felt so good — better than anything you’d ever known.

Eddie’s mouth was so warm and wet, and the way he was looking up at you with devotion, made the ache inside of you start to grow to an almost overwhelming peak.

Eddie was in heaven.

He buried his face in your pussy, drinking in your delicious taste and scent. He’d dreamed of eating you out so many times that he almost wanted to pinch himself to make sure it was real; that he wasn’t going to wake up lying in bed with your stolen panties on his face to find it was all a dream.

With one hand keeping your lips spread open so he could suckle at your clit, he slid one of the fingers of his other hand into your dripping entrance. Slowly, carefully.

He chuckled when you gasped at the feeling of it stretching you open.

“Think you can take another one?” His voice was a low grumble against your pussy.

“Yes, Eddie. Please,” you whined.

He inserted a second finger, almost shuddering at how tightly you squeezed them. He just knew you were going to feel so good around his cock.

Soon the only sounds in the room were the wet schlick of your pussy, and your soft moans as they floated through the air.

Eddie pulled back a moment to spit on your folds, and watched it drip down slowly, mixing with your creamy release.

He laid his tongue flat and wide as he lapped it up and you whimpered. You fucking whimpered and he felt it to his core. Nobody but him had ever heard that sound before, he just knew it.

Eddie’s cock throbbed in his pants, straining uncomfortably tight against the seam, so he took his hand away from where he was holding you open, and pulled the zipper down.

He gave himself a few slow tugs, knowing he needed to take his time if he wanted to make the moment last.

Even in your blissful state you’d heard the unmistakable rustle of his zipper.

“Are you — are you touching yourself?” you asked breathlessly.

“Mmm…yeah.” Eddie’s voice was ragged as it vibrated against your pussy, and you could feel the gentle rock of his body as he started to thrust into his hand.

The knowledge that he was stroking his cock while eating you out was enough to cause the already intense pleasure inside you to crest.

“Oh…oh god,” you moaned and your legs started to shake. “Eddie, please don’t stop.”

And he didn’t.

Eddie was normally vocal in bed, and he wanted nothing more than to beg for you to cum. To tell you that he needed to taste your sweetness on his tongue. But he didn’t.

He kept going, not pausing his rhythmic licking and sucking for even one second until you cried out that you were cumming, and even then he didn’t stop until you pushed his head and hand away.

Only then did he finally pull back, his chin shiny with your slick.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he purred.

He stood up, cock still in hand and you watched as he continued to stroke himself standing over you. You left your legs spread open, his tall form caged between your thighs, staring down at the sweetest view he’d ever seen.

He gazed at you with naked adoration, his chest heaving and his cock hard and throbbing in his hand.

As you watched Eddie stroke himself, you suddenly felt a new sense of power, one that you’d never felt before. The power of knowing that he desired you that much. The power that you’d made him lose control.

You knew in that moment that you’d been right all along. You hadn’t just imagined all those times when he touched you or stared a bit too long.

Eddie was a perv, but he was your perv.

“Oh fuck…I’m gonna cum. Shit…can I see your tits?”

You giggled as you unclasped your bra and let your breasts bounce free, your nipples quickly becoming taut peaks in the cool air of the room.

The sight was too much for Eddie.

He groaned loudly, his shoulders shrugging and almost collapsing in on himself as came in hot spurts over your pussy and stomach and thighs, painting your skin with his warm release.

“I want you to think about this when you’re on your little date.” He gasped, still breathless. “Even if you’re out with him this pussy belongs to me.”

Your mouth curled into a sly smile as you nodded. In that moment you knew that, to the contrary, Eddie Munson belonged to you.

The next morning you called Bobby and cancelled your date, using the excuse that you had too much research and studying to do.

It wasn’t exactly a lie.

After hanging up the phone, you walked back to Eddie’s bedroom, and stood in the doorway as he smiled up at you from the bed.

“Ready for our next lesson?”

You raised an eyebrow at the metalhead and shook your head in amusement. He was insatiable.

The hours may have been long and tiring, but with Eddie as your teacher you found you were a very eager student.

Thank you for reading ♥️

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He had seemed perfectly nice on the app, when he was nothing but a handful of generic pictures and a smattering of inoffensive text bubbles. But any appeal he held had been in steady decline the moment he took his seat next to you at the bar.

He looked more scared of you than anything—fumbling his words and constantly having to push up his glasses as they slid down the bridge of his sweaty nose. You did what you could to help him relax, coaxing him into the conversation, asking all of those tedious first date questions.

And every single one, he answered with nothing but curt, clipped responses. Making no attempt whatsoever to follow up or ask you literally one single thing about yourself.

Then you made the fatal mistake of asking about work, and suddenly longed for the wall of silence. As soon as he got the chance, he launched into a long and droning explanation of his research on the behavior of crickets.

Acheta Domesticus, not that you asked. And he didn’t so much as smirk at your gesundheit joke.

You might have called it quits entirely by now…if it wasn’t for the guy at the end of the bar.

He had arrived not fifteen minutes after your date did, and slid smoothly onto a stool directly in your eyeline. Which was good, considering you would have snapped your neck trying to get a look at him otherwise.

In a word, he was beautiful. 

Slightly older, with long dark hair that was wavy and ruffled. A short and scruffy beard that only further accentuated the hard line of his jaw where it met the thick, muscular column of his neck.

He was quite literally littered with accessories—a silver hoop that glinted in his nose, leather cuff and chains on his wrists, chunky rings on his fingers that rapped rhythmically on the bar.

Then there were the more permanent accessories in the form of black ink tattoos that covered both his arms and scrawled upwards to peek out from underneath the collar of his t-shirt. A mix of all different styles and designs, ranging in quality from the kitchen scratcher bats on his elbow to the larger and more artful pieces clearly woven in later to complete the tapestry.

You’d certainly never seen him here before, and that was sort of a feat for this place.

West End was one of your favorite places for this sort of date. It was close enough to your place to be convenient, yet far enough that there was no chance of a guy trying to invite himself over to “use the bathroom” or “wait for an Uber” or whatever other excuses they dredged up.

It was actually two businesses in one, sharing the same name, running out of opposite sides of the same building. Causing only mild confusion.

To one side was a wine bar with cozy seating nooks furnished with plush loveseats, sofas and overstuffed armchairs, all a mishmash of vintage styles from thrift shops and flea markets.

But the other side was all modern and industrial—a billiards hall with high ceilings, exposed brick walls, and a large, glossy horseshoe bar that surveyed the tables from the center.

You tended to frequent the wine bar with your roommate Robin whenever you found yourselves in need of a moody atmosphere and some low, soft lighting, your evening scored by the crackle of some great vinyl record. But the other side was better for dates because it automatically gave you the out of an activity in case you found the conversation lacking.

And boy was it lacking tonight.

He regarded the pool tables more like they were live alligators and quickly dismissed your offer to play before launching right back into his overly-detailed explanation of the differences in the eating habits of crickets and grasshoppers. You sighed, no longer attempting to disguise your boredom as you propped your elbow on the bar and rested your chin on your hand.

It wasn’t just that his research was boring—though it was. Really, the problem was all of his technical explanations were so dry and devoid of any emotion that it made you wonder if he even enjoyed it. You had more stimulating interactions with the bartender, for crying out loud.

He was new to you too, but he moved behind the bar with such ease it seemed like he’d worked there for years. He’d introduced himself as Steve, a row of pearly white teeth winking at you as he flashed a smile you were sure had won him his fair share of superlatives in high-school. 

His look read more upscale mixologist, sporting a dark gray vest over a crisp white button down. Sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms that flexed with the pour of every drink, and the collar left open to reveal the glint of a gold chain resting on the soft down of his plentiful chest hair.

The hair on his head was shorter and lighter than the other man’s, but it was long enough to curl slightly around his ears and along the nape of his neck. The ends of it were kissed with caramel highlights that shone in the light when he flipped his head back or ran his large hands through the feathered locks whenever a piece fell forward into his bright hazel eyes.

Most importantly, he also seemed to be friends with your current fixation.

They had greeted each other jovially, hands meeting in a tight clasp over the bar before Steve grabbed a bottle of whiskey and started to pour without the other man even having to order. You watched with morbid fascination as those plush lips wrapped around the rim of his glass and his eyes fluttered closed as he took his first sip, the tattoo on his neck bobbing with the swallow. 

Jesus Christ on a cracker…

Suddenly, as though he could sense you watching, his eyes popped open and immediately locked on yours. You started at the sight of the deep brown, almost black, vortexes in the middle of his face, nearly choking on the sip you were taking of your own drink—an excellent Malbec Steve had recommended when you first arrived.

A rush of warmth exploded on your face and you looked away, doing your best to pretend like he hadn’t just caught you blatantly staring at him.

Or that you hadn’t felt that egregious burst of excitement when he did. Did he care that you were looking? Was he looking at you now?

Doesn’t matter, you reminded yourself, trying to return your attention to the man in front of you.

The one you had made an actual plan to come here and meet; the one who was…still talking.

The next bit of your date felt like it took an entire year. You mostly phoned it in, reluctant to admit defeat too quickly. But over and over again, you found your focus drifting either to the stranger at the end of the bar, or to the bartender. And often, those two went hand in hand.

Again, they were either very old friends or both of them were extremely friendly. They talked and joked back and forth in between Steve helping other customers, bouncing from end to end of the bar with ease, charming smile never faltering as he enchanted every person he served.

As for the other man, you’d caught his eye enough times by now that there was no mistaking he was watching you. Though, you suppose that meant he knew you were staring at him as well…

At the end of your first glass of wine, you excused yourself from the bar—needing a break from this guy’s droning voice more than anything.

He nodded, finally taking a sip of his beer he’d barely made any progress on he’d been so entrenched in his recent soliloquy.

The bathrooms at West End were towards the back, down a long hall that obscured them from view of the rest of the bar. It gave the impression of being in an alleyway with black beadboard paneling that came a little over halfway up the wall and an eclectic gallery of pictures.

There were two bathrooms side by side, just single-room stalls adorned with brass apartment numbers rather than gendered signs, and you slipped into the one with no light coming out from underneath the door. And maybe you took a little longer than you probably needed, milking your break for all it was worth. Not stalling, just…taking care of some things.

Things like touching up your lip gloss that needed no touching up since you hadn’t said more than two words in the past half hour. Or like pulling up Tinder on your phone and setting your location to the absolute minimum distance. You know…just on the off-chance someone in the immediate vicinity happened to also have the dating app installed.

No such luck, you found.

A bit more deflated than you had any right to be, you tucked your phone back into your bag and rolled your eyes at yourself as you reached for the doorknob. You didn’t look up until you were almost at the end of the hall and when you did, you found brown eyes looking back at you.

He was headed for the bathroom as you were coming back and he caught you at the start of the long, narrow hallway leading to them. Your eyes met his as you approached and you paused, already anticipating that awkward shuffle of both of you trying to get out of the other’s way.

There was no awkwardness, though. 

Heat pooled low in your belly as he held your gaze, and rather than breezing right by when you came to a stop, he stopped as well and leaned against the wall to let you pass. He was close enough now that you could see his hair was streaked with slivers of silver and more grays tinged the edges of his beard, particularly under his ears behind the hinge of his jaw.

Your shoulder just barely brushed his chest as you passed, eye contact holding until you were looking back at him over your shoulder as you returned to the bar.

He stood there, watching until you’d rounded the corner and were out of sight before he moved. Pulse thrumming, you slid into your seat with his cologne still in your nose, tickling your brain.

By the end of your second glass of wine, you were more than ready to go. Frowning as you took your last sip, you gave Steve a regretful shake of your head when he asked if you wanted another.

And beside you, Dale just requested your checks as he pushed away his beer.

You didn’t bother with feeling annoyed he hadn’t offered to get even one of your drinks. To be fair, you had not been remotely good company as it was, and especially not once the guy at the far end of the bar decided to call it a night.

Your heart sank just a little as you watched him stand and pull on a creased and faded leather jacket. He then headed for the door, his eyes locking with yours one last time as he went.

Beside you, your date cleared his throat loudly to get your attention and your head jerked up as you realized Steve had placed your receipt in front of you to sign. If Dale—wait, was it Dale or Dave?—noticed your fixation, he was too polite (or too chicken) to mention anything about it.

Tabs closed and coats thrown back on, you followed Dale (Drew? Dirk?) outside. The wintry air cut through your tights and you hugged your coat a little tighter around you.

“So, which way are you headed?” you asked, rushing out the words before he could ask the same thing and float the idea of sharing a ride.

“Uptown?” he replied.

“Ahh, I’m the other way.”

A derisive snort made your head whip sideways and your eyes darted to the source, landing first on the glowing orange dot of a cigarette and then on the plush pink lips wrapped around the filter at the other end. The snide comment locked and loaded on your tongue abruptly stalled.

It was him.

He leaned against the brick facade, foot kicked up behind him, watching your whole interaction. It made your cheeks burn with indignation, but the hungry look in his dark eyes made your entire lower half throb. His lips curved like the blade of a knife into a smirk as he stubbed his cigarette out on the wall and dropped it in a planter filled with sand next to him. You stared at him, your mind sort of blank, and his eyes remained fixed on yours as he strode back inside the bar.

“Okay, well…I guess I’m gonna go,” Dale sighed, a little petulantly.

You brought your eyes back to him and plastered on your most professional smile, shaking his hand formally like this was the end of an interview for a job he was never gonna get.

“Sounds good,” you said. “Nice to meet you.”

He frowned as he turned away, but you felt relatively certain you’d navigated that fine.

Surely he hadn’t felt the date warranted any other sort of follow-up or lie about doing it again—you certainly hadn’t been on your A-game. And you shuddered to think that was his.

Once he’d gotten in his Uber, alone, and you had assured him the one you had yet to call was on its way, you tugged your phone out of your coat pocket and checked the time.

Right now, you had two choices. It was still early enough that Robin could probably come pick you up with minimal begging required.

Maybe you two could get fries and milkshakes and watch some garbage reality tv before falling asleep in a little cuddle pile on the couch.

It was the reasonable option.

The logical, safe choice.

But all your dates lately had been so painfully reasonable and logical and safe. There had been no horror stories to regale Robin with at Sunday brunch, nor any explosive sexual exploit the two of you could squeal and giggle over while curled up on your overstuffed sofa.

It was downright boring. And you were growing pretty weary of it.

You glanced down one more time at your phone, still thinking. Your thumb hovered over Robin’s contact info, needing only a single tap to dial, while your index rested on the lock button.

With a subtle flex of your hand, you clicked the screen off and headed back into the bar.

One more drink couldn’t hurt…right?

“Back so soon?”

Steve was already smiling smugly at you as you approached, his eyebrow cocked as you slid back into your original seat and returned his smile with one of your own.

“I decided I couldn’t live without another glass of that Malbec,” you sighed dreamily. 

He nodded, amusement still tugging at his lips as he uncorked the bottle you’d been steadily draining all night and took down a clean glass from one of the wire racks suspended overhead. You pulled your card from your bag and held it out for him to reopen your tab, but Steve waved it off as he placed down the newly filled glass in front of you and slid it smoothly across the bar.

“It’s taken care of, honey,” he said.

“Oh, really?” you chuckled. “By who?”

Steve smirked at your incredulous tone, his muscled forearms flexing as he leaned on them.

You leaned forward as well, crossing your arms under your chest, knowing how nicely it propped up your cleavage. It made the bartender’s eyes flash as he lowered his voice to a leading hum.

“The dirtbag at the end of the bar.”

He nodded his head backwards, making those caramel-kissed locks of his flop across his brow. Your gaze followed Steve’s nod, landing on the wild head of hair and all-consuming brown eyes you’d been distracted by all night. The “dirtbag” in question was staring straight back at you, the corner of his mouth curled as he raised his rocks glass of brown liquor and tipped it to you.

“Is he really a dirtbag?” you asked him, your eyes never dropping the stranger’s gaze.

“Nah,” Steve shook his head. “Just looks like one.”

“Good to know.” 

You hummed to yourself, feeling almost a little cocky as you brought your glass to your lips and took an excruciatingly slow sip. The eyes of the man across the bar watched you intently, a fire burning in them that ignited your very being.

As Steve moved on to another customer, you pulled your eyes from those of the handsome stranger and let them fall briefly to the empty stool beside you. It was about as bold as you were willing to be at the time, but it did the trick. He promptly swiveled in his seat to slide off it and you smirked to yourself as you looked down, pretending to be fascinated by the garnet liquid swirling in your glass as he came around the bar.

“That’s a great Malbec,” he said.

God, his voice.

It made your cheeks (among other things) tingle, smooth and smoky as the whiskey in his glass you could smell as he placed it down beside your wine. The scent of it mixed with his cologne that was dangerously close to becoming your new favorite aroma—something woodsy and heady with a tinge of lightness like a salty sea breeze.

“It is,” you agreed, brow arching as he took the seat beside you. “You’ve had it before?”

“Nah,” he smirked. “You made it look so good, I had Stevie give me a taste. I told him to put your next one on me.”

Both of your brows raised at that. “And how’d you know I was coming back?”

“I didn’t,” he said, taking a cheeky sip of his drink. “I just hoped.”

You felt a smile burgeoning on your lips and pulled your bottom one back with your teeth trying, unsuccessfully, to fight it. He watched it spreading, the tip of his tongue running over the edges of his teeth as he offered you his hand.

You slid your own into his, feeling the exquisite pressure of chunky silver rings pressing on your fingers as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you, Eddie,” you purred right back, offering him your name after a beat.

He repeated it once, all low and rumbly, taking his time with the sound of it in his mouth like it was a piece of chocolate melting on his tongue. Holding your hand a bit longer than necessary.

“So I’m assuming Desperate Dan out there wasn’t your boyfriend?” Eddie asked, chuckling into his next sip. The sound of it spiraled down your back, electrifying your spine.

“Nope,” you sighed heavily. “Just another drop in the Tinder bucket.”

Eddie’s dark eyes gleamed with something like mischief and he made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Well, if that’s the case, I sincerely apologize, sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled at him. “What for?”

His eyes flickered again, this time taking a long moment to do a sweep up and down your body. Landing on your knees in your tights, flitting back up to your face as she shook his head.

“If someone like you has had to resort to dating apps…we’ve clearly failed as a gender.”

You actually shivered at the words, forcing your shoulders still not to show it as you propped your elbow on the bar and swiped the tips of your nails across your chin and along your jaw to play with your earring. Deepening your voice to a sultry murmur he had to lean in close to hear.

“No argument there.”

You rushed into the bathroom, flapping both your hands back and forth to fan your face and then under your arms. Safely hidden behind the door, your air of detachment could fall away and you could finally let out all the patently un-cool reactions you had been fighting the last hour.

With trembling hands, you pulled your phone out of your bag and fired off a text to Robin.

hey, I’m gonna share my location with you the rest of the night.

wait WHAT? Losera Annoyingus is getting a bang pass?

no he left…

…about an hour ago.

A blue bubble with three blinking dots immediately popped up on the thread and you imagined Robin’s thumbs actually smoking she was typing so furiously fast. But she must decide to abandon her message, because within a split second, a picture of you and her with your faces smushed together came up on the screen as she called you instead.

“Hey,” you whispered, praying your voice didn’t echo too much off the tiled walls.

“Explain,” she demanded. “Now.”

The excitement in her voice only increases your own, your cheeks still impossibly hot as you stand over the sink and fan yourself some more before another layer of sweat can form on your face.

“It’s this guy I met at the bar. He was like, making eyes at me while I was on my date and we started talking after and I just—I don’t know for sure, but it feels like he’s gonna take me home.”

“Is he hot?”

“Yes,” you breathed out a heavy, lustful sigh. “He’s so hot I wanna rip his appendix out.”

“Holy shit,” Robin whistled. “What’s he look like?”

“He’s…I don’t know,” you laughed. “He kind of looks like a Harley that came to life.”

“Alright then, you better go ride him.”

Robin’s snorted laugh makes you cover your own face with your palm. It’s searing hot now, your blood pumping furiously beneath the surface of your skin.

“Well, I have to get back out there to make that happen.”

“Go, go, go—have fun, use protection! Wait, hang on, not in that order!”

You laughed at her warning coming through faintly over the receiver as you mashed the button to end your call. With one last steadying breath, you leaned on the sink and nodded decisively.

“Okay,” you exhaled. “Let’s do this.”

Sage and sea salt filled your nose as you yanked the door open and nearly ran straight into the source of the scent. Eddie leaned against the wall across from the bathroom doors, shoulders shifting subtly as he twisted one of the large rings on his fingers. 

You stood face to face now, hands hovering at your sides as you edged into the hallway.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, tucking his chin to his chest as he looked up at you from under long lashes. “Someone’s in the other one.”

You glanced suspiciously at the second bathroom door, seeing no light coming from underneath it. Eddie winced, still smirking adorably as you turned the knob and pushed it open to reveal it was empty on the other side. He chuckled, holding up his hands in a mock surrender.

“Fine,” he sighed. “You caught me.”

“Thought I was making a break for it?” you asked, pulling the door shut. Eddie’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek, his eyes roving over you slowly.

“I’d hate to think I scared you off,” he said as he kicked off the wall to stand up straight.

You crossed your arms under your chest, giving him a smile. “I don’t scare so easy.”

He nodded at that, his eyes still taking you in, scanning you like he was reading invisible stats. They lingered a few places you expected, like the curve of your hips and the swell of your chest. But then they landed on other things too, things you weren’t used to people noticing. 

Things like your shoulders, or your calves in your boots, even your fucking ears.

“So…everything alright?” he asked, his voice lowering as he took a step closer.

“Yeah, I was just letting my roommate know I might be gone a while.” You held up your phone and tucked it back inside your bag with another coy smile. He chuckled.

“A while, huh?” Step.

“Yeah, you know...it’s pretty late.” Step. “Might be tough to get an Uber.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie shrugged. “I live close.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were nose to nose now, barely a whisper of space between you, the air thick with the heat radiating off your bodies in the narrow space.

The well worn leather of his jacket sleeve creaked softly as his hand came up to rest on the wall, caging you in with his arm.

“How close?” you asked, breath shuddering as you leaned on the door for support.

“Up the street,” he sighed. “But it’s still too far.”

His warm breath ghosted over your lips as they parted, the smell of the liquor coating his tongue making you feel woozy. Or maybe that was just the effect he was having on you.

He was so close now you could hear the bristly sound his beard made as he scratched at it with blunt fingertips. He’d barely inhaled to ask if he could kiss you when you surged forward to press your lips to his—the roughness of his beard on your chin a welcome abrasion.

Scratching the itch that’s plagued you all night.

It’s a hungry, lawless sort of kiss. Quick and clashing and difficult to tell if it’s actually mean or not—like two dogs play-fighting, both trying to see how much they can get away with before light snarls and soft snaps of their jaws turn to whimpers and whines.

Eddie parried with you for control, his tongue darting in and out of your mouth as he plied you with teasing, playful kisses you fought to deepen, tugging at his shirt. He pushed off the wall and reached down to grab your wrists, pinning them over your head to keep them in place.

The thrill of him trying to restrain you only made you unravel further, straining impatiently against his grasp. Breathless, you stretched out your neck and pushed your face past all his hair to place your lips beside his ear and pant into it.

“Can we go back to—”

“You wanna come back to—”

The both of you chuckled and exhaled with relief as your words and his overlapped, and you felt a sudden rush between your legs from the way Eddie’s eyes blazed with intention.

He released his hold on your wrists and your arms fell limp at your sides. In an instant, he had your hand wrapped tightly in his and was pulling you along as he angled towards the exit.

As you hurried after him out of the hallway and across the bar, you distantly registered music playing, picking out the chugging guitar and bass riffs of some 80s dance song. From behind the bar, Steve caught Eddie’s eye and you saw him offer his friend a two finger salute as the two of you burst through the door, your departure narrated by Paul Stanley’s deep, silky croon.

And tonight, I want to lay at your feet. Cause girl, I was made for you, And girl, you were made for me…

Eddie wasn’t kidding about living close.

Your boots clacked on the sidewalk as he ushered you along under his arm, the quick pace of your walk driven both by the chill in the air and the desire to resume what you started at the bar.

“This is me,” he said, indicating a four-story brick building just a block away from West End.

His place was on the top floor. It was a large studio with high ceilings and many features similar to the bar you’d just left. Half of the space was raised like a platform with a steel wire railing running along the edge. He had his bed up there and what looked like an office, but he’d created a divider of sorts with cube shelves filled with sweats, hoodies and t-shirts.

Promptly, you recalled him telling you he owned a company that designed and distributed merch for independent artists, and how he was constantly receiving samples from suppliers.

The kitchen was simple, sleek cabinetry and stainless steel appliances without a single smudge. A massive butcher’s block with a wooden top and wire racks underneath serving as an island. And a steel rack hanging down from overhead laden with cast iron cookware.

You took a few more careful steps inside, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath from being kissed stupid in the elevator while Eddie flipped some switches that illuminated the space with recessed lighting. Large black-paned windows revealed a view of the city and the night sky outside, some amber light from the street filtering in and casting across the oak floors.

In his living area was a massive brown leather sectional with extra-deep cushions and a chaise at both ends. It faced a plain wall with a screen you assumed went with the projector hanging down from one of the exposed beams overhead.

Every inch of your skin crackled with excitement as he came up behind you and reached around to grip the lapels of your coat and help you out of it, letting his fingertips skim your bare arms as he did. It made you shiver in spite of the warm air you could feel pumping out of the vents.

He hung up your coat next to his on a hook by the front door and you turned to face him as he sauntered back over. His gait was relaxed and casual, like he had all the time in the world. 

Like he wasn’t driving you up the wall with every second you went without his mouth on yours.

“Did you want another drink?”

He gestured in the direction of a liquor cabinet, glass shelves lined with a modest array of wines and spirits, but you shook your head at the offer.

“Not particularly,” you said with a coy grin.

Reaching out and hooking a finger in his belt loop, you whirled yourself into him and slotted your mouth against his, licking into it to taste the smoky remnants of whisky there. He breathed into it deeply, his broad chest expanding with it and chuckling when he felt your hands on his belt.

“Easy there, tiger,” he teased, your lips breaking apart and taking hold of your wrists to still their efforts. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“Hopefully the kind that knows how to fuck.”

You smirked, the tip of your tongue flicking out between your teeth as your face veered in again. Your hips pressed with his and you began to sway back and forth, gently grinding them on him, resuming the dance you’d begun. His face came close, his hands settling on your waist.

“C’mon, honey,” he drawled. “Haven’t you heard good things come to those who wait?”

His lips trailed along the column of your neck, sending a riot of shivers down your spine causing you to release a breathy sigh.

“Sorry, what? All I heard was come.”

Eddie chuckled at that and his breath rushed across your neck as he smiled into your jugular.

“You’re funny,” he sighed. “We’ll see how funny you are when I get done with you.”

It was a miracle your knees didn’t buckle on the spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head, almost seeing the inside of your skull as his hand came up and he placed it around your throat.

“You want this?” he asked, his tone cool and precise, his eyes wandering across your face.

“Yes,” you gasped, all desperate and panting now you were so eager for him to start.

His thumb and middle finger pressed the sides of your throat, slowing the flow of blood just enough to make your head go fuzzy and your body to go just barely limp in his arms. 

“Yes, what?” he growled. You drew a shuddering breath, unrestricted by his expert hold.

“Yes, I want this,” you answered. “I want you.”

Eddie took his time undressing you, softly kissing the new expanse of skin he unveiled with the removal of each piece of clothing.

He nipped lightly at your collar bones as he shed your blouse, canines catching briefly on the chain around your neck. He dragged his lips torturously slow over your stomach as he undid your skirt and it fell to the floor with a soft plop. His breath rush across your thigh as he kneeled to drag down the zippers of your boots, kissing your inseam though your tights all the way down to your ankles.

Every second was a kind of exquisite torture. Your heart hammered behind your ribs, the bones almost rattling with the force of it. And as much as you were dying to grab him by the back of the head and take over, you let yourself slip steadily under the spell of his affections.

You believed what he seemed to be whispering with his eyes in between every indelible kiss he dropped to your buzzing skin. He had you. He would take care of you. You could trust him.

And once you were totally bare in front of him, he held out his hand for you to take and he spun you in a slow circle like a ballerina in a music box, his eyes feasting on every inch of you.

If it was anyone else, you might have shied away. You might have felt some level of shame or concern about being stark naked in front of him while he was still fully clothed. You might have worried he would see something he didn’t like, some flaw or defect you preferred hidden. But the look on his face was nothing short of rapturous.

He walked you over to the couch and kissed you deeply as he removed his clothes. Showing not an ounce of the kind of care and consideration for his own as he did for yours, he stripped them off hastily and discarded them, tossing them away like they were garbage.

Your naked bodies came together in a full press, his arms curling around your form and his hands stroking your skin like he was trying to make sure not a single part of it went untouched.

At last, he sank down onto the sofa and his knees spread apart, his hard cock standing stiff and ready for you. He took your hands in his like he was going to pull you forward onto his lap, but you dropped to your knees instead, tucking your feet under your ass.

You looked up at him expectantly, your eyes darting between his face and his cock, the corners of your mouth curling upwards in a smile as your brows raised with a silent question.

“You sure?” he asked, circling his base with his thumb and forefinger to give a gentle squeeze. “I can take care of you, you know? Fuckin’ love to.”

“Don’t worry,” you said cooly, lashes fluttering as you scooted closer. “You will.”

You placed your hands on his knees and pushed them further apart so you could lean forward to kiss up the inside of his leg. Trying to give him a taste of his own slow, teasing medicine, you worked your way all the way up to the crease of his thigh and turned your head inward.

Eddie’s breath stuttered as your lips met his shaft, poking your tongue out to run it up the length. His head tipped to the side, his ear touching his shoulder to get a better view of you licking at him, halting grunts and gasps tumbling past his lips as yours puckered to kiss it more.

When you were satisfied you’d gotten him sufficiently worked up, you reached out and wrapped your hands around him fully, your fists stacked and twisting gently.

You stroked him off slow and even, your hands squeezing tight around his shaft, mixing your spit and the beginning of his spend that leaked from his tip. He watched you reverently, eyes hooded as he enjoyed your show. And looking up at him, a gooey sort of warmth filled your entire body.

You felt yourself slipping further into that sort of headspace you craved—all pliant and willing, your knees digging into his plush area rug as your legs tingled with numbness.

Your heart raced as you imagined giving yourself up to him completely. 

Letting him take whatever he wanted from you.

As though he sensed it, as though he could read the desperation in your eyes, he cradled your jaw in his large hand and dotingly stroked the side of your face as he tilted his head at you.

“What is it, baby?” he cooed encouragingly. “What do you want? You can tell me.”

“Want you to use me,” you pleaded, fingers still sliding around him. “Use my mouth.”

Eddie gazed at you where you kneeled in front of him, your eyes having gone all big and round and glassy, shining with the tears you were dying for him to make spill down your cheeks.

Begging for it.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he sighed, gripping your chin and swooping in to kiss you deeply.

His firm hold gave you permission to go limp and you let your hands fall from his cock to rest on his muscled thighs, palms coasting over his tattoos and sparse leg hair. He pulled back, keeping your chin grasped in his fingers, holding your face still as he instructed you.

“You slap me three times in a row if you want to stop, okay?” he ordered in a husky rasp. “Do it for me now, so I know you can.”

You obeyed instantly, delivering three strikes to his thigh. His lips curled in a devilish grin. 

“That’s it, just like that,” he hummed in approval. “What a smart girl you are, huh?”

The praise rippled down your back, his words making you tingle all over, much like your calves that were starting to go numb from sitting back on them. He reached around the back of your neck, gently guiding you into position so his cock was pointed directly at your lips. 

His large hands nearly covered your entire head, holding it in his firm grasp, his fingertips digging into your scalp and causing even more shivers. Eyes locked with his, you let your mouth hang open and your tongue loll out fully, reaching almost all the way to your chin. 

Eddie moaned loudly, mesmerized by the pool of spit you’d let collect in your mouth and the way it dribbled past your lips, running down your tongue and dripping onto your chest.

“Fuuuuck,” he chuckled low and rough, touching just the tip of his dick to your wet tongue. “You really want me dead, huh?”

Your eyes danced as you nodded, the motion causing your tongue to brush against his sensitive slit and spread his precum across the flat of it. A sharp gasp punched from his chest, not ready for the sensation, and his whole body shuddered with need. His eyes blazed and his nostrils flared as he gripped tighter around the back of your head and thrust fully into your mouth.

Lewd sounds filled the room as he pushed his cock past your lips, your mouth flooded with spit that poured out of you and pooled in the wiry thatch of hair at the base of his cock. You felt your body going lax and floppy as you gave yourself over to him, letting him hold your head up as you melted into little more than a puddle.

“That’s it, baby. Just let go, let me take what I need,” he drawled in that smoky voice, beginning a gentle thrust of his hips that pushed him deeper still into your mouth. “You’re doing so well…”

The salty tang of him covered your tongue as your jaw slackened to accommodate more of him, the sounds you were making coming out garbled.

“Christ, you sound so fucking sweet choking on my cock” he groaned. “What a good slut you are, huh? Giving me this mouth, letting me ruin it?”

You gagged loudly as his cock pushed in further until his tip met the back of your throat. He held the back of your head and your nose was nuzzling against the hair at his base, breathing in his thick and heady musk. Far earthier than his cologne, this was a smell that could only be him.

His eyes flitted to your hand clutching at him, your nails digging into the meat of his thigh.

But you made no move to tap out. Another tight spasm of your throat had him throwing his head back, his eyes pinching shut and his lips falling open in a desperate gasp.

“Shit, that feels so good,” he whined softly, his domineering mask slipping ever so slightly—the broken sound only making you go more feral.

Bracing yourself on his thighs, you began to push your head down to meet his thrusts, fucking your own face with his cock so hard that his grip on the back of your head was extraneous.

“Okay, okay—okay,” he grunted, chest heaving as he pulled you off him before he could blow.

His fingers held fast in your hair, squeezing it at the roots. You drew in air in great heaving breaths, panting from the effort, your tongue still hanging out of your mouth and head bobbing as you tried to chase the cock he had to drag you off of.

“You’re a greedy fucking girl, aren’t you, baby?” he chuckled, yanking your head back sharply so you were staring at the ceiling, eyes straining to look at him over the curves of your cheeks.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped back, chest still heaving.

“You want my cum that bad?” he teased lowly, pushing his face against yours and smearing the wetness of your tears across your cheeks.

“Yes, please,” you whined pitifully. “I need it.”

“Oh, you’ll get it,” he assured you, reaching down with his free hand to rub between your legs. “But only if it goes in this needy little pussy.”

Your entire body writhed as his fingers toyed with your swollen clit and dripping folds, scalp stinging where he gripped your hair with his other hand.

A pleasurable wail burst out of you as his thick fingers thrust inside your warm, wet hole and started to scissor relentlessly.

“YES, fuck—come in me. Please, please…”

More tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you begged him, drip, drip, dripping off your chin and onto your heaving chest, rolling down your naked body, leaving wet trails in their wake.

Eddie had to fight the urge to lick your clavicle. 

He hauled you up onto his lap, scooting down so he could plant his feet properly on the floor. Your knees sank into the worn leather of his cushions on either side of his hips and you used all what little strength you had left to reach down and align yourself with him.

“Don’t you hold back—haah—alright?” he said, hissing softly as you sank down on his length. “I want that fucking loser from Tinder to be able to hear you from here. Understand?”

You nodded, hips beginning to slide back and forth, relishing the way his thick cock prodded at your insides and stoked your desire. Eddie let you keep control for a moment, his hands squeezing at the softness of your stomach, molding it with them. He watched you raptly, mesmerized by the undulations of your body, the way you let it writhe and rock and squirm on him until he thought you might come solely from your own movements.

A loud, exhilirated moan burst out of you as he suddenly thrust his hips upwards, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he slammed into your g-spot on the first fucking stroke—as if he could see straight through your flesh to aim for it.

The room filled with sounds even more lewd than before—the wet clap of his thighs with your ass cheeks, his balls slapping your soaking pussy, your mound squishing into his pelvis.

Eddie threw his head back, overwhelmed by the sight of every part of you bouncing so prettily on him. And as he exposed his neck, everything in the room went hazy except that thick, taught, muscled column. Sending you feeling.

You clawed at it desperately and drew hot, red streaks down it with your nails that trailed all the way to the middle of his tattooed chest.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned. “Mark me up. Show everybody who owns me—”

He slid his hands back to grip your ass, spreading the fleshy globes wide and stretching your holes further open as he continued to slam his length inside you. He let one side go and delivered a single stinging slap that reverberated throughout your whole body. 

The burn made you keen, arching your back until your chest was flush with his. He reached up to grip the back of your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth and raking them over it.

“Now that that mouth is free, I wanna hear how good you feel,” he growled.

And if you thought you were loud before, it was nothing compared to now. The combination of his words and the perfect pace being set by his cock sent you instantly toppling over the edge, with Eddie’s own release following right behind.

In that moment, you vowed to send a fruit basket to every single one of his neighbors—an apology for making them think that a woman was getting murdered in the middle of the night two or three stories above their heads. The orgasm he brings you to makes you scream, practically sobbing as you cry out in immeasurable relief while searing hot pleasure ravages your entire body. 

It’s an ascent you’ve never dreamed of reaching the peak of, the feeling spreading to the tips of every extremity, filling you with fire. It feels so good, it almost makes you sad to know you might never feel like this again. And if your brain hadn’t already turned to mush, you might have cared.

As you dwindled down from your high, you slumped forward limp and spent—your body still rippling with the effects, Eddie’s arms coming up to hold you against him as he peppered your shoulder with soft, sweet kisses.

“That’s it,” he breathed out in your ear. “That’s it, baby, just feel it…such a good girl f’me…”

He ran his fingers slowly up and down the column of your spine, creating waves of shivers waiting for your trembling to subside.

His length grew soft inside of you, but he made no move to slide you from his lap or to rush you in the slightest. He let you cling on to him, your face buried in his sweaty neck, his long hair tickling your face, losing yourself in his touch.

Slowly, your breathing grew deep and even, your racing heart slowing in your chest. Eddie turned his head and spoke to you quietly with his warm breath fanning across your cheek.

“You ready to move?” he asked.

You gave a weak nod.

Wobbling on unsteady legs, you stood and his hands quickly moved to the curve of your waist to keep you steady. He took you to the bathroom which looked more like it belonged in a spa than someone’s house, sitting you on the toilet.

From a hook hanging on the back of the door, he produced two bright white waffle weave robes, offering one to you. And as you wrapped the soft material around your shoulders, he turned on one of the faucets and held his fingers underneath it to test the temperature.

Once he’d deemed it warm enough, he took a fluffy washcloth from a little pyramid of them that were rolled up next to the sink basin. He held it under the stream, saturating the cloth and then giving it a gentle twist. You watched his hands every step of the way, mesmerized by the way his veins bulged under his skin and the muscles in his arms flexed as he wrung out the excess water.

He rubbed the warm cloth gently across your face, wiping off the residue of tears and spit and cum and what little was left of your make-up until your bare face shone in the soft lighting. 

Once he had finished, he dropped the cloth into a hamper and cradled your face in his hands, his thumbs gliding easily over your slippery skin.

“So pretty,” he hummed, the words so soft you wondered if you were even meant to hear them.

From one of the drawers in the vanity, he brought out a pot of moisturizer and offered it to you with a smile. You frowned up at him, jutting out your bottom lip in a comical pout, not ready for him to stop taking care of you. It made him chuckle and a bemused smile spread across his lips as he tapped the tips of his fingers in the gel and started to smooth it over your cheeks.

“Come lay down with me?” he asked when he’d finished, head tilting back in the direction of the short set of stairs leading up to where his bed sat.

You nodded and he held out his hand to lead you out of the bathroom. You curled up on top of his dark duvet, your head sinking into the softness of his down pillow that held the faint scent of what you guessed was his tea tree oil shampoo.

The thick mattress dipped as he climbed onto it with you and draped a beige knit blanket over the both of you before he sidled up against your body.

It was…nice. More than nice. Shit, it was as close to perfect as you had felt in a long time.

The feel of his chest expanding and contracting against your back; his steady breath on the nape of your neck; the soft robe wrapped around your body and the comforting weight of the blanket on top of you. Not to mention Eddie’s arm curled securely around your waist. 

Your eyes felt heavy, like your eyelashes suddenly weighed a thousand pounds, and you drifted fully into sleep, succumbing to the relief that had washed over you not twenty feet away.

When you woke, it was still dark out. 

The street noise had lessened significantly and if you had to hazard a guess, it might have been close to one or two in the morning. Eddie’s place was darkened, lit only by orange street light that filtered through his windows and a half-dimmed reading light in the corner.

It was an arc lamp, suspended over a leather Eames chair where you could see that your coat and all of your previously discarded clothes were arranged in a neat little pile. But laid out at the foot of the bed right next to your feet were a pair of black fleece pants and hoodie, both about your size and emblazoned with the names of bands you didn’t recognize.

You sat up slowly, fingers hovering over the thick material as you debated. Were they for you? They looked a little big for Eddie, but maybe he had laid them out for himself? Was it a sign he was about to go to bed and you needed to get moving?

In the end, you slid out from underneath the blanket still draped over you and redressed in your clothes. After pulling your tights and skirt back on, stepping into your boots and zipping them up your calves, pulling your coat back on, you looked around the loft searching for Eddie.

From up here, you could see the bathroom door was open and the light was off…eliminating the only place he could actually be. And then your eyes fell on one of the windows that was cracked open with a short step-ladder built into the wall that had been pulled down in front of it.

You pulled your coat around you tighter the closer you got to the window and tentatively climbed the steps leading up to it. You pushed the large glass pane the rest of the way open and poked your head outside to find Eddie sitting on his terrace, resting with his back to the brick, head tipped back as he exhaled a cloud of smoke from his lips that drifted up towards the stars.

“Hey,” you said softly. His head turned at the sound and a wide smile spread across his lips.

“There she is,” he said in a gentle cheer.

You climbed through the window and a breeze carried the scent of the joint he was holding. You took a seat across from him, leaning back against the metal railing and letting your legs stretch out alongside his. He dropped his hand to rub your calf and he frowned at the realization you had redressed in your tights and boots. His brow furrowed adorably.

“Something wrong?” you asked.

He shook his head and took another drag of the joint before passing it into your waiting fingers.

“The clothes were for you,” he said. “Y’know, if you wanted something to sleep in.”

You paused, the joint just shy of touching your lips. “Like…if I was staying?”

“Would you stay?” he asked, a ribbon of smoke curling in the air as he exhaled.

Your mouth hung open, clouds of your hot breath escaping. “Oh, um…I mean, only if you—”

He cut you off with his lips, slipping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a long kiss. Tiny embers scattered from the joint, being taken by the wind that blew and made the ends of Eddie’s long hair tickle the sides of your face. You pulled apart and he answered solidly.

“I want you to,” he said.

The first time I stepped foot in the cafe, I didn't expect to leave with a newfound obsession for coffee or a crush. It was almost impossible to leave without one and I'm talking about the latter. It was impressive, how much care he seemed to put into every order, determined to bring perfection to each cup.

I lied to myself saying I came back everyday just for the deep flavors of the espressos when in reality it was always for him. Maybe not the first time, but definitely every time after that. That's just how addicted I was. He was my cup of espresso. Something I needed every day to feel awake and alive.

The eye contact snatched my breath away, made my heart skip a beat. I thought maybe time had stopped every time he looked my way. And what was that look on his face? He was smiling each day he saw me walk through that door, seeing a familiar face to bring a sense of comfort.

Then like a flash of lightning, I had to go away without even having the chance to tell him. I hated to do it but I had good reason to, I just wish I could have kept in touch. I tried, I really did but I wasn't so lucky to be given the chance to have him in my life, even if just as friends.

I counted down the days to my return, planning out how it would go in my head. I wanted to live my fairytale moment, bursting through the doors for him to run up and pull me into a kiss. That wasn't going to happen, I didn't even know him like that but a girl can dream right? Would he want to see me after so long? Would I have the opportunity to tell him what happened? He was such a nice person and I hope he didn’t think I took that for granted.

I sat on the bus, window seat as always, heart racing the closer it drove to its destination. The same bus stop I would get off on every day just to see him standing behind the counter, doing what he does best.

The ride seemed so long or maybe it was my rapid heart beat slowing down the time. I was starting to doubt coming here, all due to my budding anxiety, or maybe it was guilt. I did want to tell him, but that day was so busy and I couldn't wait much longer before I had to go home and get ready for my flight. Thinking back on it now, perhaps I should've done the cliche thing and wrote my number on a napkin and left it at my table with a cute "call me ;)" but I'm way too shy to do that.

I recognized where I was now but something was wrong. Did I get on the wrong one? Did I miss the stop? There's no way. I did this every day last year so even if I tried to forget, my body would remember. Yet, it was gone. The sign was taken down, the windows were boarded up; everything about it looked abandoned. I had no air to breathe and my heart ached with sadness. How much have I missed?

I tried to stop them but the tears fell from my eyes before I knew what was happening. I sat back down with a plop and hoped I pulled off not looking like my dog just died. I was to blame for not knowing all of this happened while I was away. I could only imagine how sad he must be not having his job anymore and based off of the nonexistent notice on the door, I don't think they moved locations. Even if we didn't talk about me and where I was for a whole year, I wanted to find a way to contact him so I could be his comfort.

Back home, I questioned if there was any reason for me to be back. The person I was most excited to see was gone and I didn't know where he went. Now I really regret not leaving him a note. I sat on my couch with my legs crossed trying to relax as much as I could. Getting on social media was best for times like these right? Now that I think about it, I signed out before I left and hadn't signed in since. There are probably a few people wondering where I went and I did just go cold turkey. Might as well add that to the list of things to feel guilty about.

Just as I thought, I had tons of notifications but one in particular caught my eye. I quickly straightened my slouched position and my eyes grew wide. NO WAY I shouted so loud that my hearing faded; my ears way of trying to protect me from going deaf. Kyungsoo had requested to follow me even though I'm not sure how he found my account. That was quickly answered when I saw he also follows Chanyeol.

Chanyeol was a great friend who I didn't really get to spend much time with since he was always so busy working in the studio. I've always been grateful for our friendship but now I'd have to give him an extra tight hug next time I saw him, and knowing his personality, it would put a big smile on his face. I had lots of messages from him but they’d have to wait until I handled what I felt was “more important”. I didn't hesitate to follow Kyungsoo back and I hoped he took initiative to message me first just so I know everything was cool between us. I shouldn’t be so worried but it felt like I messed up a relationship we could’ve built. I’d have to play the waiting game now and see what was to become of us.

It's been two months and I've honestly forced myself to forget about it. I shouldn't feel so upset since I did the same thing to him, but he doesn't even seem to have been in his account to see that I followed him back. As much as I tried to forget, there's also a part of me that feels desperate to call Chanyeol and ask if he's heard from him.

Maybe I could build up the courage after I have a cup of coffee. I know it wouldn't be the same as Kyungsoo's but this new place has good reviews and there's a bus stop not too far from it. It's six stops away from my house, so as long as I keep track of how many times the bus stops, I can keep myself occupied until then.

45 minutes have passed and the bus is on stop number five. It seemed to have been stopping for a bit longer this time but I paid no mind to it. It wasn't until I saw a figure standing toward the front of the bus that I looked up and saw a man, who was breathing heavily and looking straight at me. Taking an even closer look, his clothes were wet. Oh shit was it raining? I totally didn’t have an umbrella.

He wasn't far away but I found myself squinting just to make sure what I was seeing was real. I hadn't recognized him on first glance because he looked different. Even more handsome than I last remember and he had a head full of hair. He looked great. I no longer cared about the coffee, I just wanted to talk to him. I started smiling and stood up faster than I could control my body, causing me to stumble on the edge of the seat, but thankfully he was there to grab my arm to stop my fall.

We stared at each other for what felt longer than it actually was. When I saw his chest rise as if he wanted to say something, I spoke up instead, wanting to be the first person to say something since I felt he deserved it.

"Kyungsoo...is that you?"

He held my hand, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Please, come with me. I can't get off this bus without you."

The offer was too good to pass up especially since I didn't get a chance to say my piece yet. I nodded and he smiled as he pulled me in the direction of the door. He removed his brown, leather jacket and used it to shield my hair and body from the pouring rain. I chuckled under my breath when I heard one elderly lady clap as we walked away with each other. He stopped under the veranda of the bus stop and brushed off the seat so I could sit down.

"Sorry I made you come out in the rain, I...just didn't want to lose you again." He shook the droplets of water off his jacket and sat down next to me.

"I'm sorry I left without getting the chance to tell you. I tried to, I really did." I spoke to him as I folded my headphones and put them in my bag.

"Don't worry about that, I'm just so happy I get to see you again." I could tell that admitting that made a blush rise on his cheeks. Gosh, he's so cute. He shyly scratched the back of his head and laughed slightly.

“My grandmother was sick and my mom wanted help taking care of her. I wanted to tell you but my flight was leaving that day so I couldn’t stick around.”

“It’s okay, I understand. I hope she’s doing better now.” He offered a comforting smile and I nodded my head. Thunder rolled across the sky and the raindrops increased. “I would say let’s go back to my job, but I just clocked out.” He pointed behind him and surely he aimed at the place I thought I was going to.

“Fate really wanted us to meet, that’s the cafe I was going to try today but I thought it was another stop away.”

He was intrigued, his eyebrows raised. “You want coffee?”

I suddenly felt extremely shy, my face felt hot and I wanted to smile to shake the nervousness. “Yeah…I really missed your espressos.” That definitely made him smile and blush harder.

He let out a breathy laugh, “I have a small machine at home. It feels wrong inviting you to my house so soon but I’d prefer if you weren’t in the rain, you’re not wearing closed shoes.” He pointed down at my shoes, he was right. “I could take you home and bring one back to you if that makes you more comfortable, I don’t want to seem creepy.”

He was the farthest thing from creepy and perhaps it because I had feelings for him. Sure it was dangerous to go off of that but there was a reason we met again, it wasn’t just coincidence. It was now or never. If I wanted to see how far this would take me, I had to be brave like I promised I would. “I don’t mind going to your house if you don’t mind.”

He seemed surprised by my answer but satisfied nonetheless. “I’ll go bring my car around, here take my jacket.”

Before I could deny his offer, he draped it over my shoulders and ran out to head toward his car. Would I sound crazy if I said I was falling for him more?

His place was gorgeous. Nothing fancy, but he kept it so clean that it looked expensive. I expected nothing less from him but seeing it with my own eyes was surely a sight to see.

“Please, come in and make yourself at home.”

I carefully walked over and sat on the small loveseat that gave me the perfect view of him in the kitchen. I was so attracted to watching him do such simple things and how much attention he paid to every detail. He was charming, tantalizing, arousing.

It wasn’t long before he left his place in the kitchen, carrying the perfect small cup. He placed it on the wooden coffee table and took a seat on the couch with me.

I thanked him before taking a sip. Perfect as always. Now I was curious what else he could get me addicted to.

“I hope it lived up to your expectations.” He asked when I placed the empty cup back down on the table.

“I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone as good as you Kyungsoo.” That sounded more like a confession but I’m sure he knew what I meant and even if he didn’t, I wouldn’t take back what I said.

We sat and talked for hours. He was good at making me laugh with his stories about work and his best friend Baekhyun. He asked me about my hometown, my favorite foods; any question he thought of. The rain had already stopped but I wasn’t ready to go home. I wanted to enjoy my time with him more even if we sat in silence.

“Sorry I kept you here so long, it’s already dark out. I can take you home now if you’d like.”

Sadly I’d have to go home at some point, but I wish I didn’t. “Thank you, I’ll go home and whip up some dinner.”

He gasped and his jaw dropped slightly. “Oh gosh I didn’t even ask if you were hungry that whole time, it’s been hours! I’m so so-“

I chuckled and brought a hand up to his cheek to caress it with my thumb, surprising the both of us. I quickly removed my hand from him with wide eyes; it was my turn to apologize. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

He wrapped a hand around my waist and leaned over to plant a soft and gentle kiss to my lips. So this is what they meant about the sparks you feel when you really like someone. It was quick but it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He pulled back to watch my reaction and when I didn’t do anything, I could see he was ready to say sorry again. Luckily I stopped him in his tracks, leaning over to kiss him once more.

One hand on the small of my back and the other cupping my left cheek. He was a great kisser but to be honest even if he wasn’t, I’d still enjoy it. The way he smells, the gentle touches, it just felt like he’d been waiting to do this for a long time. When I threaded my fingers through his hair, he swiped a tongue over my bottom lip to deepen the kiss.

My day hadn’t gone as planned but I wasn’t complaining especially because I was tired of growing regretful over my previous actions; or lack thereof. He pulled away from the kiss, lips pink and slightly swollen.

“I love you. I know I haven’t known you for very long, but I know what I feel and I know how special you are to me. I was sad when you were gone and I don’t want to feel that again. I want to be with you even when you are away. I just want you.”

There goes the butterflies again. I’ve had boyfriends before but none of them made me feel the way Kyungsoo does. Everything about and with him felt different in a good way and that’s what I wanted in a relationship. He felt ready to do what would make me happy and I was more than ready to the same. I mirrored his confession in my own words, finally saying what I needed with confidence.

Fast forward six months and the relationship was still going strong, but no one ever thought otherwise. You were finally going to hang with Chanyeol and Baekhyun, your first outing with the both of them as a couple. Just a casual picnic to enjoy the warm weather and catch up.

“Are you ready love?” Kyungsoo came into the room to check on you. He loved watching you get dressed, you made everything look so pretty. It stirred up all the emotions inside of him, but one in particular won the battle. He walked up and hugged your waist. “You look gorgeous baby.”

You turned to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. “That makes two of us. Can you zip this up for me please?” You turn around once more, your back facing him. His hand ran down your spine slowly, goosebumps rising on the skin. His breathing picked up some and you could already read his mind.

“We’re going to be late Kyungsoo…” your sentence came out like a whisper.

“They’ll be fine, just lift your dress for me yeah?” He turned you around and kissed down your neck and the valley between your breasts. He walked you backwards to the bed, letting your back hit the mattress. “I won’t be able to hold out until we get back home.”

Before you could argue, he kissed down your stomach as he bunched the fabric of your dress around your waist. His hands spread your legs apart at the thighs, rubbing up the inner part at an achingly slow pace. You held your breath as his fingers lightly danced over your clothed pussy, a wet spot already forming on the lace fabric.

“So wet…I just wanna taste you a little before we go okay?” He looked up at you, sliding your panties to the side, working his fingers through your folds.

You nodded and he wasted no time diving into you. He lapped you up quickly, trying to satisfy you both as fast as he could. He had a tight grip on your thighs that draped over his shoulders. You were squirming with his tongue pressing roughly against your clit.

“K-kyungsoo, please…” your head fell back as you tried closing your legs but he wouldn’t allow it.

“I know baby, just a little more.” His voice muffled but it sent vibrations through your body.

You barely survived the few minutes he spent slurping on your juices just to spit on your pussy to make it wet again. You were definitely going to have to change these panties before you left. He stopped his abuse on your clit and slid your panties down and off your ankles. He unbuckled his jeans and let his dick pop free. He towered over you, rubbing his dick against your clit.

“Fuck, you feel so good already princess…” He looked at you, loving how your face contorted as he slowly pushed in.

“Fuck Kyungsoo please, I need you.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice, his hips snapping forward. He loved knowing he was the only one to make you a whimpering and moaning mess. The only one that could feel your walls contract around his dick. The only one whose name you screamed. You were his and his only and he knew you felt the same. The squelch and squeeze of your pussy brought him to his orgasm much faster than he’d have liked, but this was technically supposed to be a quickie.

“I’m gonna cum, s-shit…”

He pushed your legs to your chest to get a better angle. He leaned down to bring you in a hungry, sloppy kiss. The plushness of his lips was a complete contrast to the rough thrusts. It blended perfectly and pushed you to your orgasm. He moaned feeling your walls tighten and he couldn’t hold back his own release.

You both breathed heavily as you came down from your high. He kissed your forehead gently and got up to get redressed and clean you off. His phone rang in the pocket of his pants and he quickly answered it.

“Hey Baek, we’re leaving out now.” Kyungsoo looked over at your fucked out form and winked.

“Kyungsoo stop fucking and get your ass over here! And make sure you wash your hands!”

You chuckled seeing Kyungsoo’s face and jaw drop before hanging up and clearing his throat. “Come on handsome, we have to go before they get too hungry and start gnawing on each other.”

not a fan of PDA but would never let go of your hand

arm around your shoulder or waist if you’re sitting

would catch him staring at you sometimes just because he thinks you’re SO pretty

definition of “if he wanted to, he would”!!!!!!!!!

a serious and quiet man a lot of times, but a joy to be around

calls you my love, baby, 자기야

would be the best person to have around when you’re sick or not feeling well from your period

soup, chocolate, cuddles, any and everything you need

FOREHEAD KISSER

VERY protective

would damn near be your midwife if you got pregnant

he’s at EVERY appointment

buys books, does his research, asks lots of questions

lots of back hugs so he can hold your stomach 🥺

would read to the baby

makes you the healthiest meals

does whatever to get you ready for labor and delivery

will hold your hand, rub your stomach or even sing to you if there’s no one else in the room

cries holding the baby for the first time

KYUNGSOO AS A DAD? Dad of the century award

turns into the softest man possible around the child

stern but sweet dad?

the kid would grow up so well mannered and humble!!!!!!!

NSFW MDNI

naturally rough but not a mean dom?

PLEASURE DOM

totally would be into body worship?

like??? Would literally kiss you from your ankles to your forehead and vice versa?????

studies your body like he’ll be tested on it?

mind blowing orgasms

obsessed with your thighs

again not a mean dom but that all changes when he eats you out?

legs pressed back in a tight grip while he slurps you up like you’re his last meal?

would hold your hand through it

loves to kiss your back in doggy

does like to choke you

when you want him extra rough, will always start off by spanking you

might growl????????

loves leaving hickeys in places only he can see

will occasionally check if they’re still there and hum in approval seeing the red marks

loves for your nails to dig in his back

can go 2-3 rounds

won’t say it out loud but he craves you more than you think he does

Thank y’all for coming to my TedTalk

@sleepingbeautydo

credit to v6que for the divider

“22 years old, and you’ve never ridden a bike? Fuck off.”

And he’s laughing at you. He’s laughing at you — ushering you out in the garage after nightly tea, in search of the cycle in question.

When he finds it, he maneuvers you, kicking and screaming, onto the pivoting wheels of death. The bike is too big for you, clearly Michael’s size, though it seems no bother to your manic confrère.

“Up you go, pet,” Michael’s broad arms encircle your waist, guiding your plush legs up the thin metal seat. You straddle the faux-leather curves, cool to the touch beneath your billowing skirt, lurching with heat when he draws nearer.

Cat and cream, he’s spotted you staring, the amusement written plain on his face. His eyes crinkle in delight, that shit-eating grin ever-present.

“Come on, bird. Hands on the wheel,” he jests. His thick digits curl over your knuckles, willing you to hold on loosely. “These are the breaks…” Under the heat of his palm, he flexes your fingers on the trigger. “And this is the gas,” Michael squeezes your thigh, making you yelp, that sly smile easing the tension in the room.

“And what if I fall?” You ask stupidly, picking a hangnail.

“I’ll be right here,” he reassures you for the umpteenth time, cupping the scruff of your neck like a stern rugby coach. When you look back at him, he’s inches from your face, the summer sun melting his brown eyes a golden cream.

You kick your legs, brushing up against his cock, and turn your face to the light.

“Fuck it, let’s go.” You murmur, swallowing hard.

Michael lets you turn loose, stout hands fanning out in the air as you find your footing. When he cranks open the tiny garage, muscled arms refracting in daylight, you peel onto the street with little preamble.

You’re soaring, skidding on air — until suddenly, you aren’t. In a flash of skin and blood, you find yourself face-first on the cracked cement, your wrist bending in a way that it shouldn’t.

“Fuck,” he shouts, tearing the resident handkerchief from his left pocket to blot your skull. “Supposed to watch out for the curb, petal,” he laughs, though not unkind.

You want to hit him, for talking you into this, but the warmth of his hands at the back of your neck feels something like a dream. Callused fingers map the base of your skull, stroking up and down as he appraises your wound. It’s… Nice. Affectionate.

Without a shot at redemption, Michael leads you back inside, icing your sprained wrist with a bag of snap peas. It doesn’t take long for your whole hand to go numb, the frumpy pillow bidding little relief to your throbbing skull.

“You should really see a doctor,” Michael speaks for the first time, as if this much were obvious. Rummaging the kitchen cabinet for a jar of loose pills, he turns to face you with disdain.

“And you should really see a shrink,” you retort. “But I don’t think either of us will get that lucky.”

He leans down, his eyes wrought like knives, and slips the pills into your mouth with his forefinger and thumb. Rough digits trace your quarreling tongue, feeling the pharmaceuticals begin to dissolve under his grasp. Prodding your injured joint with the pad of his thumb, brown eyes flicker to meet yours, glazen with something dangerous.

When you cry out in pain at a particularly sharp touch, Michael crooks a weathered brow.

“That what you sound like during sex?” He scoffs, defaulting to his roguish ways.

You set your jaw in plain defiance. “Suck it and see.”

His eyes darken; you should not have tested him. He kneels down between your parted thighs, sprawled out on the settee, and tears the sticky panties from your crotch.

“Such a whore,” he chuckles, mollified by his findings, nuzzling his nose up into your cunt. “And such a sweet cunny…”

“Quit teasing,” you whine, using your good hand to press him closer to your clit.

Amused at your petulance, he works your button with his tongue, stirring your precious petals on his lips. He’s too good at this — too experienced, given his inability to live alone. By luck or misfortune, he’s moved back into the old foster house — the biggest cockblock of them all — helping your “mother,” for all intents and purposes, with the auto repairs.

It’s strange to be here with him now, all crumbling walls and cracking windows, knowing your love for him is anything but holy. Mercurial memories, unspooling like twine.

You can’t bring yourself to regret the decision to come home. Michael knows you. He’s known everything about you, from that very first glace. You are kindred spirits, parallel lives in the succession of love and grief. Two halves of a fucked-up whole.

Still, you’ve never done anything like this. Michael was your first kiss; your first heartache; the first man that you ever slept with naked. You wouldn’t want anyone else to show you pleasure, but those days have long since passed, or so you thought.

Who is he now, with his face in your cunt?

“You’re so beautiful,” he moans, hands snaking up to grope your tits. You’re a dream, and he doesn’t want to wake up. You wonder idly what more he could do, with those massive fucking fingers.

“Michael, please. Please, just fuck me.”

But you didn’t have to beg — he’s wanted this, from the day that you met. 26 and 19, he has always needed you in the very worst way.

He wrestles his jeans onto the ground, shucking his little briefs to align with your aching hole. Michael paints his cock with your juices, your pebbled tits flush to his hairy chest, his soft stomach brushing your navel. You wrap your legs around his waist; you want him, you want him, you want him; cracking open the shell of yourself, if only for his pleasure.

It’s raw, needy; a kettle that has boiled over far too long. You feel him deep in your stomach when he punches his cock, wet and raw, into your sweet little cunny. You rub your fingers over the freckled constellations of his back, tugging a hand through his gel curls. Your eyes start to sting; he’s much bigger than you would have thought; a man so large, with a dignity to match.

“Come here, baby. Wanna hold you.” He ushers you on top of him, watching your tits jiggle as you ride his fat dick, slamming your hips down on his thighs. Michael fucks you like a dog, ramming his cock in your wet hole with the frenetic intent to breed. His fingers dig deeper in your waist, a strenuous grip on your perfect peach.

“Good girl, bird. Just like that,” Michael whispers, petting your clit to make you sing. He throws his head back, eyes falling shut. “Needed you so bad.”

You arch your back, clapping your ass on his thighs, watching him keen into the fractional change. You’re losing steam, a pathetic failure at his lessons to ride, though your greed is infectious.

“I’m your dog,” you whine, blinded by lust. You belong to him, in every sense of the word. The feeling settles inside you like a blazing heat — You belong.

Impatient, he bodies you down on the settee, humping your cunt with his fuzzy balls slapping your legs. When he peaks, his husky frame bullies you further in the sofa, forcing his cum as deep as it can go. You can’t breathe, when he kisses you, dipping his tongue toward the back of your throat like a dying man’s wish. All you can see or smell is Him. Him.

“Michael,” you cry, and it’s the only name you’ve ever known. He cups a hand over your mouth, and you lick his callused palm until you scream.

“That’s it, biscuit. Be a good little whore,” he coos, folding you firmer in his arms, as if to save you from the world. You can’t see straight, you’re so breathless, spasming like a seizure around his spurting cock.

“Good girl,” he repeats, breathing hot in your ear. He tugs your panties into place, patting your wet pussy. “Good girl.”

You fall asleep to him cupping your neck, holding you closer than a corpse. It’s been so long since you’ve felt at home, you’d forgotten what he smells like. Spearmint, tobacco, sweat and sex. When he leads you up the stairs, toward the refuge of his room, you follow him into the sea of sheets, craving shelter in his arms.

“I’m yours,” you murmur, gentle as a child, when the ache settles deep in your cunt.

Michael kisses you deeper, knowing now.

“Always yours.”

✦ Author’s Note: To get real for a second: I’m a victim of abuse, and I related a lot to Maria’s character. This story is a way for me to rewrite my ending, on my own terms. 🤍 I hope you don’t mind.

Thanks as always @lorecraft for letting me vent in your DM’s. Thank you @stveharringtn for inspiring the ending. Go read her Michael fic here 🤍 Please REBLOG + COMMENT, if you enjoyed :)

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✧ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 💫

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you didn’t mind your life as geta’s servant too much.

he wasn’t perfect by any means, hell, he wasn’t even kind but he was better than other emperors, better than his own brother. at least in your eyes.

you were working merely as a maid before he saw you picking out flowers, per your superiors request, on his walk and ended up taking you right there against a tree.

“you belong to me now. understand?” he hissed as he thrust into you one final time, unloading his heavy load inside of you, marking you. “say it.”

you hesitated at first, thinking about your superiors but then it hit you, he’s the emperor, he’s the one who makes the call, makes the rules, he’s the superior.

“i belong to you, your majesty.” you told him as you fixed your clothes. he grabbed a hold of your face,

“you’ll come to my chamber tonight.” squeezing your cheeks a little too hard, making your lips pout out. “i’m not done with you.”

you nodded, hardly and he let go of your face and left you in the garden to collect yourself and your scattered thoughts.

since then, it became a routine for you to go to his chamber every other night. he’d fuck you until you’re bruised and full then send you out before you could get your robe on.

he was rough and mean. he bit, marked and spanked you. but you didn’t mind it. a part of you secretly liked it, not that you’d ever tell him. you don’t talk to him unless he addressed you.

but you liked his touch, as vicious as it was.

you also liked knowing that you were his favorite. as stupid as it makes you sound, it made you feel special knowing he asks for you.

he had other girls, sure. but it was you he calls for when he’s had a horrible day and wants a release. it was you he wants after an argument with his generals goes south. it was you he needs to feel control, to feel balanced, to feel good.

but the thing that made you realize you were his favorite was the way he didn’t share you like the other girls or like his brother does.

geta was possessive. you noticed it in the way he doesn’t share his fine wines, his gold treasures and his ideas until they’re brilliant for torture. he keeps his things to himself.

unlike his brother who has a flow of his servants going through his generals like a river.

geta let the other girls go too, he didn’t care for them. but god help who dares to lay an eye let alone a finger on you.

so you figured, maybe it wasn’t too foolish to think he may care for you.

today he called in while he was at a meeting with his generals, which wasn’t unusual. he often had you there to sit by his side, pour him his liquors and to have you close by if something went wrong and he needed an outlet.

you walked in and you could feel the tension in the room, could cut it with a knife if you had one on you.

geta looked up at you from his throne, “there you are, come here.” he beckoned you, a devious smile drawn on his face as you walked towards him.

he grabbed your hips and pulled you close, to stand between his legs once you were within arms’ reach. “this right here is my doll.” he says, to nobody, to everybody. “one day, she’ll give rome an heir.” his hands roam your body as your hair stands on ends. he often says that but you know it isn’t true, to give birth to an heir you needed to be his wife and there was no way an emperor would marry a servant.

you don’t say a thing though, just allow yourself to indulge in the idea for a second.

“sit down.” he orders, his hands pull you into his lap then he keeps them firmly on your hips, it hurts a bit since he bruised them last night so you bite your lip.

“why’s everyone quiet? we’re not done yet.” he declares, his voice steady and his gaze is fire as he stares around at his generals. all of whom have their eyes turned down, they know better than to look.

see, as possessive as geta was, he loved nothing more than to show off. to remind everyone that they’ll never have what he has, that’s why he wears his finest clothes and golds, why he drinks his richest spirits, why he brought you here, sat you on his lap and begun to pull your silk garments down, exposing your body to the room full of men who’ll never have you and never dare to dream to.

one of his hands was groping your tit, kneading at it with his palm, stroking and squeezing your sensitive nipple, hardening it between his calloused fingers while his other hand was buried between your thighs.

two of his thick, ringed fingers thrusted inside your cunt at once and you silently gasped, holding back a moan at the sudden fullness, coarseness. he kept pumping them in then out of you just when you got used to the stretch.

you knew he wasn’t doing it for your pleasure, he couldn’t care less about pleasing you, he’s doing it just to prove that he could. yet still, even with the graceless feel of his touch, you felt yourself melting on top of him, your back hitting his chest, your body completely left at his disposal, he could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him.

geta’s gaze fell upon you when he felt your eyes on his face, they’re usually ruthless and demented but once he noticed the tenderness you’re looking at him with, like he’s some sort of a savior, you could swear you saw his eyes soften for just about a second before he got that look of pure insanity in them once more. he squeezed your nipple again, hard enough to make you writhe in his lap, bite your lip and draw blood.

“are you entertained, general? do you like what you see?” geta spits out suddenly and your eyes catch one of the generals staring at you, well, at your body with a trace of indisputable lust. you know that look in men’s faces too well.

the general quickly looks down, shaking his head. “i’m sorry your majesty, my eyes.. slipped.”

“your eyes slipped?” geta mocked, “so you’re not thinking about how sweet it would be to get your cock wet in my pretty doll?”

you fight the urge to smile, he never called you pretty before.

“answer me, general.” he yells.

“no your majesty, that’s your servant i would never dare to.” the poor general keeps his gaze down, fixated on his feet. the others don’t dare to lift their heads as well.

“what if i told you it’s alright?” geta smirks, “look up.” he orders and the general obeys, keeping his confused eyes strictly upon geta despite how difficult it is to not let them drift to the naked girl on his lap. “if you want her, you can have her.”

“your majesty..” the general senses a trick and tries to protest but geta interrupts him,

“a pretty face.. a tight cunt,” he pulls his fingers out of you and you whine quietly at the sudden emptiness then he brings them to your lips so you’d suck the messy juices you’ve left on them and you immediately take them in your mouth and start to clean them up, “obedient.” he smirks at you before returning his attention back to the general, “what else could a man want?”

“nothing, your majesty.” the general mutters nervously.

“come here then.” geta says slyly, “you’ve been stealing glances at her tits for weeks so be a man, come here and have your way with her.” he takes his fingers out of your mouth once they’re all clean and circles your nipple with them, wetting it while keeping his eyes on the general. “she’s all yours.”

you hate the way your heart breaks at his words but mostly hate that you were once stupid enough to believe you might’ve been special to him, that you were more than just a whore he’s using to keep him pleased until his empress comes around and he tossed you out like all the other that came before you.

you fight back the tears in your eyes, holding them in and through your blurry vision, you see the general approaching closer, biting his lip. you can see his hesitation, he still doesn’t know if this is a trick or not and honestly neither do you but it doesn’t feel like a trick anymore.

“your majesty..” he protests one more time,

“touch her.” geta commands.

you closed your eyes, as if that could keep his clammy hands away, and waited for the the contact of his hands on your skin, anticipating it anxiously but it never came.

instead, you felt something warm and thick splash across your body and face.

for a second you were scared to open your eyes especially after the wild gasps you heard from all around the room but then you realized there’s no escaping so you counted to three and opened them only to see that you’re covered in blood and so is geta.

your gaze fell to his hand where you saw him clutching a knife, the one you oftentimes saw him sharpening in his chamber then your eyes hit the floor where you saw the general laying in a pool of his own blood, seeping out from a gaping hole in his neck.

he coughed out a few times, dry and rough before soon enough he was laying there with his eyes open, as unmoved as an abandoned seashell.

“we’re done here. you’re all dismissed.” geta announces, the generals leave one by one, the look of horror still fresh on their faces. geta thinks if you look at him, he’ll find the same frightened look on your face but he pays you no mind as he cleans the blade of his knife with your silk fabric.

“you killed him.” you say, for the first time speaking without being spoken to first. “you killed him for me.”

geta snorts, “don’t let it get to your head, i don’t like sharing, that’s all.”

“you’re alright with sharing the other servants, why not me?” you ask, suddenly getting bold.

he looks at you, fury in his eyes but amusement at the same time. “you just said it, doll. they’re servants.” his bloodied hands cup your face, wiping away a droplet of blood before it trickles down your cheek.

“and what am i?” you don’t try to suppress your smile this time, as foolish as that is.

geta stares at your wild grin before bringing his eyes back to yours, you hold his mad gaze, unafraid. you stunned him, impressed him, passed your test. he smirks back.

“the future empress of rome.”

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆