Chicago in the spring was a liar. The calendar claimed winter was over, but the wind whipping between the glass towers downtown still carried enough bite to make people regret leaving their coats at home. The streets below were packed with commuters balancing coffee cups and briefcases, traffic crawling through the Loop beneath a sky painted in shades of pale gray.
Twenty floors above it all, the offices of Jeong & Partners were already alive. Assistants hurried through hallways carrying files. Junior associates practically sprinted toward conference rooms. Partners barked orders before most people had finished their first cup of coffee. And somewhere in the middle of the controlled chaos, you were running late. Again.
The elevator doors slid open and you stepped out, laptop tucked against your side, heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floors. Your outfit was simple, professional, and entirely appropriate for one of Chicago’s most prestigious law firms. A fitted black turtleneck disappeared beneath the lapels of your coat while a tailored plaid skirt hugged your figure, paired with sheer black tights and heels that made navigating the city feel like a competitive sport. You barely looked up as you crossed the bullpen.
You had a deposition in three hours. A mountain of discovery documents on your desk. Three emails from a partner marked urgent. And absolutely no patience for anyone before your first coffee. Unfortunately for you, someone was already watching. From behind the glass walls of a corner office overlooking the city skyline, Yunho looked up from the contract spread across his desk the second you appeared. Like always. It was embarrassing at this point. Years later and he still did it. Every morning. Every damn time.
The moment you stepped onto the floor his attention automatically found you. His eyes followed your path through the office, taking in the familiar sight of you weaving around desks and associates with barely a glance in their direction. His jaw tightened slightly as the skirt moved with every confident step, forcing himself to look away before someone noticed him staring at your ass. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath. Because apparently seven years wasn’t enough time to get over a crush. Not law school. Not graduation. Not working together for almost three years. Nothing helped. If anything, seeing you every day only made it worse. Far worse.
A sharp knock pulled him from his thoughts as his assistant stepped into the office. “Jeong, the Montgomery files.” Yunho looked down at the documents in front of him. “Thanks.” The assistant left and Yunho immediately looked back toward your office. Pathetic. Actually pathetic and he knew it. His father knew it. Half the damn firm probably knew it. Yet there he was. Still watching. Still hopeless. Still completely screwed. Then his mood darkened. Because Danny appeared. The new associate. Fresh out of Northwestern. Too eager. Too friendly. And unfortunately very interested in you.
Yunho watched as Danny crossed the floor carrying two coffees. One for himself and one for you. His jaw immediately clenched as Danny stopped outside your office just as you reached your desk. You looked up from your laptop and he flashed a smile, said something Yunho couldn’t hear. Then handed you the coffee and your smile appeared. And Yunho nearly snapped the pen in his hand. The worst part wasn’t even that Danny liked you. Everybody liked you. That wasn’t new. The problem was Danny had the confidence to actually do something about it. While Yunho had spent years pretending he wasn’t completely obsessed.
From your office, you accepted the coffee with a grateful smile and Danny laughed at something you said and you laughed back. And across the floor, Yunho looked one minor inconvenience away from committing several felonies. A moment later his office door opened and his father stepped inside carrying a folder. One glance out the glass wall was all it took and older man sighed. The sigh of a man who had watched this exact situation unfold for years. “Morning, son.” Yunho didn’t answer as his father followed his gaze. Saw Danny. Saw you. Saw the coffee. And immediately understood. “Still haven’t told her?”
Yunho’s eyes never left the scene outside. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right.”
“Not a clue.”
His father nodded then placed the folder on the desk. “You know, most people simply ask someone out.” Yunho finally looked at him. “I’d rather jump off the roof.” His father laughed. “That’s probably easier than whatever it is you’re doing now.” Outside, Danny said something else that made you smile again and Yunho looked away immediately. Because for some reason, that smile had always been his biggest weakness. And unfortunately for him, you had absolutely no idea.
Yunho’s father didn’t look particularly sympathetic. In fact, the older man looked far too entertained for someone standing in the office of a man currently contemplating murder. Outside the glass walls, Danny was still lingering beside your desk, leaning casually against the doorway while you sorted through emails. Whatever he was saying earned yet another laugh from you and Yunho’s eye twitched.
“You’re glaring.”
“I’m working.”
“You’re glaring while working.”
“I’m multitasking.”
His father snorted. “Very professional.” Yunho finally dragged his attention back toward the folder sitting on his desk. “What do you need?” The smile his father gave him instantly made him suspicious. Twenty seven years old and it still worked. Every time that smile appeared, it meant trouble. His father slid a folder across the desk. “New case.” Yunho opened it and froze.
First came confusion. Then disbelief. Then something dangerously close to hope. His father watched every emotion happen in real time.
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
Yunho flipped through the first few pages. Major client. Corporate litigation. Huge account. Millions at stake. The kind of case that could make careers. His eyes landed on the staffing page then stopped. Because directly beneath his own name was yours and for a second he forgot how to breathe as his father folded his arms. “Surprise.” Yunho read it again. Then again just to make sure. Still there. Your name. Partnered with him. For months. Potentially longer. Depositions. Strategy meetings. Client dinners. Travel. Late nights. Court appearances. The entire package.
Slowly, his father sat down across from the desk. “Happy?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
Yunho tossed the folder onto his desk and his father grinned. “You two will be leading it together.” Yunho groaned, putting up that front of his. Denial. False annoyance. “Why?”
“Because you’re my two best associates.”
Yunho immediately narrowed his eyes. “That sounds fake.”
“It’s not.”
“It sounds fake.”
His father laughed. “It is a little fake.” Yunho rolled his eyes. “There it is.” The older man leaned back in his chair. “The client requested our strongest team.”
“And?”
“And unfortunately the two of you are extremely good together.”
Yunho hated that. Not because it wasn’t true. Because it was. You fought constantly. Argued over strategy. Disagreed on nearly everything. But somehow every case the two of you touched ended in a win. The entire firm knew it. Which only made it worse. His father studied him for a moment then sighed. “You know this is probably healthy.” Yunho already hated where this conversation was heading. “Healthy?”
“Yes.”
“Working sixty hour weeks is healthy?”
“No.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
His father pointed toward the bullpen. Toward you. “The time together.” Yunho immediately looked away. “Absolutely not.”
“The kind of time where you’re not obsessing over her from behind glass.” Outside, a group of associates walked past your office while Yunho stared at his father like he’d just committed a crime but the older man just continued. “Maybe you’ll actually have a conversation.”
“I talk to her.”
“You argue with her.”
“Same thing.”
“It is not.”
Yunho rubbed a hand over his face. His father was enjoying this far too much. “You’re being dramatic.” His father nearly choked laughing. “Me?”
“Yes.”
The older man pointed at the floor to ceiling windows. “Son, you’ve spent the last ten minutes watching her drink coffee.”
“That’s not true.”
“You literally stopped listening when she smiled.” Yunho opened his mouth and closed it. Opened it again. Then gave up. Because unfortunately that was exactly what had happened and his father looked positively delighted. “Seven years.”
“Stop.”
“Seven.”
“Please stop.”
“Years.”
Yunho groaned as his father stood and straightened his jacket. “You know, normal people would’ve asked her out by now.”
“I’m not normal.”
“Clearly.” His father moved toward the door then paused and gave one last glance over his shoulder. One final bullet to the head. “Try not to scare her off.” The door closed behind him and Yunho stared at it. Then immediately looked across the office floor straight toward your office. As if sensing it, you looked up and your eyes met through the glass. And for a brief second. One tiny second. Before you rolled your eyes and went back to work….. Yunho felt something in his chest do a complete backflip. Then Danny reappeared carrying another stack of files and just like that, his mood was ruined again.
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The rest of the morning passed exactly how most mornings at Jeong & Partners passed. Chaotically. Emails. Phone calls. Research requests. Partners demanding updates. Clients demanding miracles. By noon, you had almost forgotten about the conversation you’d overheard between two associates discussing some major litigation assignment being announced later that week. Almost. Unfortunately, one particular blond attorney seemed determined to make sure you didn’t forget.
Across the floor, Yunho had spent the better part of the last three hours pretending to work. The keyword being pretending. Because every time he looked up from his desk, he could see your office. Every time he glanced through the glass walls, there you were. Typing. Reading. Arguing with opposing counsel over the phone. Running a hand through your hair when frustrated. And every single time, he had to force himself to focus on something else. The problem was now he knew. Now he knew you’d be working together. Months. Possibly longer. Which meant his already fragile self control was hanging on by a thread. And the worst part? He was excited.
Which was exactly why he needed to be an asshole. The asshole persona was safe. The asshole persona couldn’t accidentally confess he’d been in love with you since constitutional law. The asshole persona couldn’t accidentally admit he remembered what color dress you’d worn to graduation. So the asshole persona stayed and by lunchtime, you were gathering your things. Your laptop disappeared into your bag. You grabbed your phone. A few files. Your wallet. And finally stood from your desk. But the second you stepped into the hallway, a familiar voice appeared like a curse. “Going somewhere?”
You stopped walking and closed your eyes. Counted to three then turned. Yunho stood a few feet away looking irritatingly perfect as usual. The charcoal three piece suit fit him like it had been stitched directly onto his body. His tie had disappeared sometime during the morning, the top button of his white dress shirt undone. The silver blond hair he’d been bleaching for as long as you’d known him fell across his forehead in a way that should’ve looked ridiculous. Instead, annoyingly, it worked. You hated that it worked. You hated that your brain occasionally noticed things like that. Mostly because it was easier to be irritated by him when he wasn’t walking around looking like the human embodiment of an expensive magazine ad of your exact type. “What do you want?”
His mouth immediately twitched. “You know,” he said casually, sliding one hand into his pocket, “most people start conversations with hello.”
“Most people aren’t you.”
“Ouch.”
“Tragic.”
Yunho looked positively delighted and you hated that too. Then again, he always seemed happiest when annoying you. Which honestly said a lot about his mental stability. “So,” he said.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“I know enough.”
His grin widened. God, you wanted to throw something at him. “Did you hear the news?” You rolled your eyes so hard it physically hurt. “What news?” For a brief moment something flashed through his expression. Excitement. Then it disappeared beneath the usual cocky smile as Yunho pulled a folder from under his arm and held it out making you frown as you took it and opened it. And immediately froze. Your name. His name. The case assignment. The same realization hit you that had hit him hours earlier. “Oh no.” Yunho laughed. The bastard. “Oh yes.” You looked up. Then back at the paperwork. Then back at him. “No.”
“Afraid so.”
“There has to be a mistake.”
“There isn’t.”
“Your father hates me.”
“My father loves you.” You blinked and Yunho blinked. And for one horrifying second neither of you moved. Then he recovered. Far faster than you did. “Professionally,” he added quickly and your eyes narrowed. “Right.”
“Obviously.”
Neither of you seemed entirely convinced as Yunho cleared his throat. Then leaned slightly closer. Not enough to invade your space. Just enough to be annoying. His favorite distance. The distance that made you aware of him. Made you notice things. Like the expensive cologne. Or the sharp line of his jaw. Or the fact that his eyes always seemed to be looking directly through people. Except when he looked at you. Then they felt entirely too focused. Entirely too attentive. And entirely too dangerous.
His grin returned. Slow and cocky and infuriating. “Looks like you’re mine for the next few months, sweetheart.” You stared at him as you slowly closed the folder and smiled. The kind of smile that made junior associates run. “Oh, Jeong.” Yunho’s stomach immediately dropped. Because that tone never meant anything good. And he hated how it made his dick twitch. “What?” You stepped forward. Close enough to pat his shoulder. Close enough to watch his stupid confident smile falter slightly. “If you call me sweetheart one more time…” Yunho looked amused as you smiled wider. “I’m going to make sure every minute of this case feels like a personal attack.”
For a second silence hung between you. Then Yunho laughed. A real laugh. Low. Warm. Entirely too attractive. And to your absolute horror, the man looked thrilled. Like you’d just promised him a vacation instead of a threat. “Can’t wait, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes and walked away toward the elevators and behind you, Yunho watched you go. Watched until the elevator doors closed. Watched until you disappeared completely. Then let out a slow breath. Because working with you every day for months was either going to be the best thing that had ever happened to him. Or the thing that finally killed him. And honestly? He wasn’t sure which outcome was more likely.
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By the time you returned from lunch, your irritation had somehow gotten worse. Which was impressive. You’d spent nearly forty minutes convincing yourself you were overreacting. Convincing yourself that being assigned to a case with Yunho wasn’t the end of the world. That you were both professionals. That you’d survived law school together. That you’d survived three years working in the same building. You could survive one case. Then you’d walked back into the office and the first thing you’d seen was Yunho leaning against someone’s desk laughing about something. The second thing you’d seen was him noticing you. The third thing was that stupid grin appearing immediately. And suddenly all your progress had disappeared.
Now you stood outside the managing partner’s office. Mr. Jeong’s office. The largest office in the building. Floor to ceiling windows overlooked downtown Chicago while shelves lined with legal awards and framed photographs occupied nearly every wall. Most people were intimidated walking in here. You weren’t. Mostly because you’d known the man for years. The door was already open and Mr. Jeong looked up from a stack of documents when you appeared and a smile immediately pulled at his mouth that looked too much like his son’s. Which should have been your first warning. “Ah.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t ‘ah’ me.” His smile grew. Definitely a warning sign. “Good afternoon, Y/N.”
“You put me on a case with your son.”
“Yes.”
“No explanation?”
“No.”
You stared and he stared back completely unbothered as you dropped into the chair across from his desk. “Why?” The older attorney set down his pen. “Because you’re both excellent attorneys.”
“That’s the official answer?”
“It is.”
“I want the real answer.”
His eyes sparkled and you immediately regretted asking as Mr. Jeong leaned back in his chair. “You know, when you ask a question like that, it makes it sound like working with Yunho is some terrible punishment.”
“It is.”
The man laughed. “That’s harsh.”
“You raised him.”
“I tried my best.”
“You failed.”
“I know.” Another laugh and honestly, it was annoying how much amusement he got from this. You crossed your arms. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“Mr. Jeong.”
He sighed dramatically. Then folded his hands on his desk. “The truth?”
“Yes.”
“You two are the best litigators I have.”
You opened your mouth but he raised a finger. “And before you argue, let me finish.” You immediately closed it. Mostly because he was giving you the same look he gave witnesses right before destroying their credibility. “The two of you disagree on everything.”
“Exactly.”
“Which is why you work.” You frowned as he continued. “Yunho sees details nobody else sees.” You hated how true that was. “You see angles nobody else sees.” Unfortunately also true. “You challenge each other.” You rolled your eyes. “We annoy each other.”
“That too.” The older man smiled. “But every single time I put the two of you in the same room, the work gets better.” You couldn’t immediately argue. Which was irritating and Mr. Jeong noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything. “You know what your biggest problem is?”
“I have several.”
“You assume things about my son.” The sudden shift caught you off guard. “What?”
“You assume you already know who he is.”
You leaned back. “And I don’t?”
“No.” The answer came immediately. Without hesitation. Without doubt. And for some reason that bothered you. Mr. Jeong glanced toward the windows. Toward the city beyond them. “He works harder than anyone in this building.” You opened your mouth but he raised a hand again. “I know exactly what people say. Founder’s son.” His voice was calm. “Nepo hire.” Your expression shifted slightly. “Everything handed to him.” The older man smiled. A sadder smile this time. “They’ve been saying it since he first started law school.” Something uncomfortable settled in your stomach. Because if there was one thing you knew about Yunho… he never defended himself. Ever. He’d make a joke. Deflect. Smile. Move on. But he’d never actually defend himself.
Mr. Jeong looked back at you. “The reason I’m putting you together is because I trust both of you.” You nodded slowly. That answer at least felt genuine. Then the older attorney ruined it. “I also think it’ll be entertaining.” You groaned. “Seriously?”
“Very.” The man grinned again. “You should’ve seen his face when I told him.” Your eyes narrowed as Mr. Jeong looked entirely too pleased with himself. “What face?” His grin widened. “The kind that suggested he was trying very hard to pretend he wasn’t happy.” Now you looked suspicious. “Happy?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“Why?”
The older man suddenly became fascinated by a document sitting on his desk. “Oh, who knows.”
“Mr. Jeong.”
“No idea.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“That’s not helping your case.”
“It never does.”
You stared at each other. And the older man looked remarkably smug as you stood. Because you weren’t getting anything useful out of him. “You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
You moved toward the door, reaching for the handle. Then his voice stopped you. “Give him a chance, Y/N.” You paused as Mr. Jeong’s expression had softened. Only a little. But enough. “A chance to what?” His smile returned. Smaller this time. “To genuinely surprise you.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you walked out. But for the rest of the afternoon, as annoying as it was, you couldn’t quite get those words out of your head.
Because for the first time in years, a tiny part of you wondered if maybe there was more to Yunho than the arrogant smartass who spent half his life trying to get under your skin. Unfortunately, that thought lasted exactly seven minutes. Because the moment you got back to your office, there was a sticky note on your monitor in familiar handwriting.
Don’t forget our strategy meeting after hours tonight, sweetheart. ❤️
You stared at it long and hard. Then immediately started plotting his murder.
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By five thirty, the office had settled into its usual evening rhythm. Some associates were packing up and heading home. Others were just beginning the second half of their day. The litigation department lived on caffeine, spite, and impossible deadlines, and today was no different. You had spent the last two hours buried beneath discovery documents, deposition transcripts, and a growing headache that felt suspiciously like the beginning of a migraine. Which was why you eventually abandoned your office in search of salvation. Specifically, a Red Bull.
The break room was mercifully empty when you walked in. At least for the first ten seconds. You opened the refrigerator. Found the can you’d stashed there that morning and immediately heard a familiar voice behind you. “Please tell me that’s not your dinner.” You glanced over your shoulder. Danny. Of course. He stood in the doorway carrying a stack of files under one arm. His tie was loosened and his sleeves were rolled up. The picture of an overworked attorney trying very hard to impress someone. Namely you.
“It has vitamins.”
Danny laughed. “That’s not how vitamins work.”
“It is when you’re desperate.”
“You know, normal people eat food.”
You cracked the can open. “Normal people aren’t handling four cases and a psychotic partner.”
“Fair point.”
The two of you fell into easy conversation while you leaned against the counter sipping your drink. Danny was nice. Maybe a little eager. Maybe a little obvious. But nice. The kind of guy who remembered birthdays and probably called his mother every Sunday. Unfortunately for him, he had made the mistake of developing a crush on someone who worked directly across the hall from Yunho. A mistake Yunho was becoming increasingly aware of. Because at that exact moment, Yunho stepped into the break room and stopped.
The sight before him made something unpleasant settle in his chest. You standing beside the counter. Red Bull in hand. Skirt riding up a little. Laughing. And Danny standing entirely too close. Smiling entirely too much. Looking entirely too interested. For a moment, Yunho considered turning around. Walking away. Being mature. Then Danny reached over and brushed something off your sleeve and suddenly maturity became significantly less appealing.
“Well.”
Both you and Danny turned as Yunho stood in the doorway. One hand tucked into his pocket. Expression casual. The kind of casual that usually meant trouble and you immediately sighed. “No.”
“No what?”
“No whatever you’re about to do.”
His smile widened as Danny looked between the two of you. Confused. Concerned. Possibly afraid. Smart man. Yunho ignored him completely. Instead he walked directly toward the coffee machine. “You know,” he said, “I was wondering why productivity suddenly dropped on this floor.”
Danny blinked. “What?”
Yunho pressed a button on the machine. “Oh, nothing.” The machine whirred as you narrowed your eyes. Because you knew that tone. “So what was the cause?” Danny asked and Yunho looked over his shoulder. Smiling. “Apparently extended social visits during work hours.”
You nearly laughed despite yourself. Danny looked offended. “I was grabbing files.”
“Mm.”
“I was.”
“Of course.”
Danny frowned again. “You got a problem?” Dangerous question. Very dangerous question. Because Yunho’s smile never slipped. Not even slightly. “I don’t think I said I did.”
“You implied it.”
“I implied many things.”
Danny’s jaw tightened as you pinched the bridge of your nose. Because this was exactly what you didn’t need. Two men posturing in the break room like they were in a nature documentary. Somewhere a narrator was probably explaining mating rituals as Yunho finally turned around. Coffee in hand. Expression pleasant. Far too fucking pleasant. “How long have you worked here now, Danny?” The younger associate frowned. “Four months.”
“Interesting.”
Danny looked even more confused. “What is?”
Yunho took a sip. “The confidence.”
You closed your eyes. There it is. There was the antagonizing. Subtle enough that nobody could technically accuse him of anything. But sharp enough to draw blood. Danny folded his arms. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Yunho grinned. God, he was annoying when he grinned like that because he looked even more attractive. “It means four months is impressive.” Danny stared. You stared. Even Yunho seemed amused by his own answer. “You’re impossible,” you muttered and immediately his eyes found yours. And just like that, all his attention shifted. The irritation. The jealousy. The possessiveness he’d been fighting all afternoon. Hidden again. Buried beneath that infuriating grin. “You say the sweetest things.”
You rolled your eyes as Danny looked between the two of you. Then realization slowly crossed his face. Not complete realization. But enough. Enough to notice something was off. Enough to notice that Yunho watched you differently. Enough to notice that Yunho had entered the room focused entirely on him and somehow ended up focused entirely on you. Yunho noticed the realization too. Which was exactly why he smiled even wider. A warning disguised as amusement. Danny wasn’t stupid. “Right,” Danny said awkwardly, gathering his files. “I’ve got to finish those motions.”
“Good luck,” Yunho said as he left and silence settled over the room as you slowly turned toward Yunho. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“You know exactly what.”
“I really don’t.”
“Liar.”
Yunho leaned against the counter beside you. Close enough to annoy you. Far enough to remain technically innocent. His favorite game. “I was getting coffee.”
“You were antagonizing Danny.”
“He seems sensitive.”
Yunho took another sip of his coffee as you took another sip of your Red Bull. The silence between you wasn’t comfortable. It never was. Not because it was awkward. Because it always felt like something was happening beneath it. Some current neither of you acknowledged. Some invisible tug of war that had existed for years. You were glaring at him and Yunho seemed entirely unbothered by that fact.
“What?” you asked.
“What?”
“You’re staring.”
His mouth twitched. “I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“Maybe you’re just distracting.”
You groaned immediately. “There he is.”
“There who is?”
“The world’s most annoying attorney.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
You rolled your eyes. A habit he was personally responsible for. For a moment neither of you moved. Then Yunho’s expression shifted slightly. Not enough that most people would’ve noticed. But you knew him. You’d known him for years. You knew when he was about to say something annoying. You knew when he was about to start a fight. You knew when he was about to push your buttons just because he could. And right now? Something else flickered behind his eyes. Something sharper.
His gaze drifted toward the door Danny had disappeared through. Then back to you. “You know he’s wants to fuck you, right?” You nearly choked on your drink. “Jesus fucking Christ Yunho.” The room felt smaller all of a sudden. The air heavier. Like something had shifted. You could feel it as Yunho pushed away from the counter and took a step closer and you took another drink from your Red Bull. Mostly to give yourself something to do. Yunho’s coffee had long been forgotten. It sat abandoned on the counter while he leaned against it beside you.
His gaze drifted over your face before he suddenly asked, “What happened to Kevin?” You blinked, furrowing your brows. The question caught you completely off guard. “What?”
“Kevin.” He shrugged. “The boyfriend. Haven’t seen him come by in a while.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Why do you know his name?” Yunho immediately realized his mistake. Because he absolutely shouldn’t know his name. Not with the confidence he’d just said it. Not unless he’d been paying attention. A lot of attention. Which unfortunately he had. For years. His recovery came quickly. “He picked you up from work like fifty times.” That was fair. Kevin had practically lived in the firm’s lobby for a year. “Why?” Yunho looked down at his coffee. Acting casual. “No reason.”
“He’s gone.”
Something sharp flickered behind Yunho’s eyes at your answer. Gone. As in gone gone. “When?”
“Months ago.” That got his attention. “Months?” You nodded. “Five.” Yunho stared at you. Five months. You’d been single for five months. And somehow he was only finding out now. For a brief moment he wondered if he’d actually died and nobody told him. Then he remembered he was supposed to be acting normal. So instead he asked, “What happened?”
You sighed. The kind of sigh that carried old irritation. “He cheated.” Yunho’s jaw tightened. Not because he was surprised. He wasn’t. He’d known. Hell, he’d been the one who made sure you found out. An anonymous email. Photos attached. No name. No explanation. Just evidence. Enough evidence that Kevin never had a chance of talking his way out of it. To this day you had no idea who sent it and Yunho intended to keep it that way. “He cheated,” you repeated, shaking your head. “A year and a half together and apparently that wasn’t enough.”
Yunho looked away. Because if he looked directly at you right now he was going to say something reckless. Something honest. And honesty around you had always been dangerous. “You have terrible taste in men.” The words slipped out before he could stop them and you laughed. A genuine laugh. The first one he’d heard from you in a long time. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”
“I’m serious.”
“You think every guy is terrible.”
“No.”
You tilted your head. “No?”
Yunho looked back at you slowly. And something in his expression started shifting. Softening. Dangerously. “No,” he said quietly. “Just the ones you date.” The laugh died in your throat and neither of you moved as Yunho’s gaze dropped briefly. Just for a second. Taking in the skirt you’d worn that morning again. The one he’d been trying not to notice all day. Then his eyes lifted back to yours. “You settle.”
Your eyebrows pulled together. “What?”
“You settle.” His voice remained calm. “You keep picking men who don’t deserve you.” For once there wasn’t a joke attached. No sarcasm. No smirk. Just honesty. Raw and unfiltered. And somehow that was far more dangerous than any of his usual flirting. He shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. Almost disbelieving. As if he couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. “You know what the problem is?”
“What?”
His smile returned. Smaller this time. Less cocky and more personal. “The second someone gets your attention they stop trying.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Yunho looked away briefly. Because he knew exactly what it meant. It meant he couldn’t imagine taking you for granted. Couldn’t imagine looking elsewhere. Couldn’t imagine spending years wanting someone only to risk losing them. When he looked back at you, his gaze had darkened, something settling there you couldn’t quite decipher just yet. “If I had you in my bed every night….” He leaned down, moving closer until his mouth was right at your ear. “no other woman would exist to me.”
It’s like your brain just stopped computing. His words slammed into you like a truck and you had no idea how to respond to that. Especially when the feel of his lips just barely brushing your ear still lingered as a cough cleared from the doorway. Yunho backed away from you casually. Like he hadn’t almost had you pinned to the counter. Mr. Jeong stood in the doorway, his gaze going back and forth. First you. Then his son. Then back again with a hint of amusement. “Am I interrupting something.”
“Not at all.” Yunho picked his coffee back up. “I was just asking Y/N if she’s coming to my place tonight so we can start briefing and going over our new case.” He looked way too smug. “Excuse me?” You broke out of your daze quickly, glaring at him. “I am not going over alone to your place. We can go to my place. My roommate will be home but he shouldn’t bother us.” Roommate. Yunho knew exactly who you were talking about. Wooyoung. Yunho had seen him visiting you a few different times back in law school. He also brought you lunch sometimes now. Always had thick eyeliner. Tattoos. A wicked little smirk he liked to throw at anyone who piqued interest.
“Sounds like a plan.” Yunho grinned again and his father gave you both one last look before walking away. You groaned. Last thing you needed was to be alone or semi alone with Yunho outside of work.
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“I need you to stay home tonight.” You were practically begging into your phone. Wooyoung snorted obviously intrigued and confused. “And here I was planning to get my back blown out tonight.”
“Woo, I’m serious.” You hissed and looked up catching Yunho in his office through the glass wall. He noticed you and smirked and had the audacity to wave at you. “Look…. I have this new case. It’s a big one and…..” You paused. Hesitated. “I have to… I have to do it with Yunho.” The silence on the other end of the call was deafening for one second. Two. Three. Four. “OH MY GOD!” Wooyoung laughed, actually cackled. “You’re kidding me. You’ve wanted to climb that man like a tree since law school.”
“I HAVE NOT.” You didn’t mean to yell. One of the newer attorneys passing by your office jumped at your outburst which to your luck also caught Yunho’s attention. “I have not.” You repeated much lower this time and you could practically hear Wooyoung roll his through the phone. “Please.” He scoffed. “You told me yourself that you and I quote, want to choke him with that annoying tie and make him beg for it.”
You gasped. “I was drunk.” You hissed. It was on Wooyoung’s birthday. Right after you left your ex. Turns out all your dirty little secrets weren’t so secret with tequila in your system. “Drunk words are true thoughts or whatever.” Wooyoung said and you just know he was grinning. “I hate him!” You snapped which at this point wasn’t true at all. He annoyed you most the time. Made you question whether you wanted to slam his face into a wall or drop to your knees. And after Mr. Jeong told you to give his son a chance…. No. Absolutely not.
“If you hate him that just means the sex will be amazing.” Wooyoung was enjoying this way too much. “There will be no sex.” You immediately regretted saying that because of course. Of course! The devil himself was leaning in your office doorway, brow raised looking far too amused at whatever parts of the conversation he was picking up. “Just be home.” You told Wooyoung before ending the call and clearing your throat. “What do you want? Other than eavesdropping.”
Yunho let out a laugh under his breath and that sound immediately made you suspicious. “What?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Nothing.” He shrugged but he was smiling too smugly for your liking. “You’re smiling.”
“Am I?”
“You are literally smiling.”
His grin only widened. Which meant he was absolutely about to be annoying. Wonderful. Fan fucking tastic. You crossed your arms. “Spit it out, Jeong.” Yunho tilted his head slightly, that damned silver blonde hair falling across his forehead as his gaze flicked briefly toward your phone before returning to you. “Well,” he said casually, “I just found one part of that conversation particularly interesting.”
Your stomach dropped and you muttered under your breath. You were going to kill Wooyoung. And Yunho. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes.” His smile sharpened. “The part where you informed whoever that was that there would be no sex.” Heat immediately flooded your face. “Jesus Fucking Christ Yunho.” You were starting to wish you got paid for every time he got that out of you.
“So there was sex on the table at some point?”
“There was never sex on the table.”
“Interesting wording.”
“Yunho.”
“Just asking questions.”
“You are a lawyer. You get paid to twist words.”
“True.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Still doesn’t answer my question.” You stared at him, eye twitching and he just stared right back. Completely shameless. And the worst part? He looked unfairly good doing it. You hated that your brain insisted on being horny every time he was around. You pointed toward the door. “Get out.”
Yunho laughed. A real one. Warm and Low. And unfortunately dangerously attractive. “See, now I’m curious.”
“You should be billing hours.”
“I am billing hours.”
“You are standing in my office harassing me.”
“Multitasking.”
“That isn’t how billing works.”
“It is when you’re talented.”
You made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a threat and Yunho’s grin somehow widened further. Then, unfortunately, his gaze drifted lower. Only for a second once again. But you caught it. The way his eyes flicked over the way your skirt rode up from sitting and your pulse did something stupid.
“So,” he said.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“I know enough.”
His eyes narrowed playfully. “You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you spend an impressive amount of energy thinking about me.”You nearly choked. “Excuse me?” You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. Immediately. Right now. “I’m just wondering…..” You immediately cut him off. “About what?” His gaze held yours. “Whether you’ve really hated me all these years.” The question caught you off guard. And for a moment the office felt quieter. The sounds of phones ringing and conversations outside seeming farther away. You looked away first. A big mistake on your part. Because Yunho noticed everything. He always had. A slow smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “There it is.”
“There what is?” You snapped.
“You didn’t answer.”
You hated that he was right. You hated it even more because you weren’t entirely sure what the answer was anymore as Yunho pushed away from the doorway. “See you at your place.” He turned to walk back to his office. The two of you only had an hour before you got off. “You don’t even know where I live.” You called after him and Yunho didn’t even glance back as he answered.
“Don’t I.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The entire drive home was torture. Not because of traffic. Not because downtown Chicago was a nightmare at six o’clock. But because every single red light gave your brain more time to replay the conversation and how Yunho asked whether you’ve really hated him all these years. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel. Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
Seven years of knowing Yunho Jeong and somehow that stupid question had managed to lodge itself directly inside your skull. You’d spent years calling him arrogant. Annoying. Insufferable. None of those things were technically lies. But lately… things felt different. And you hated that.
By the time you pulled into the parking garage beneath your apartment building,you had a headache. Perfect. Exactly what you needed before spending an entire evening trapped with Yunho. You grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and headed upstairs and the second you stepped through the apartment door, the smell hit you. Pizza. You closed your eyes. Thank God.
“Kitchen.” Wooyoung’s voice carried through the apartment as you kicked off your heels near the door and followed it. Sure enough, Wooyoung was leaning against the kitchen island wearing an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, a slice of pepperoni in one hand while two pizza boxes sat open on the counter. His eyes immediately found you and narrowed. “Oh.”
You froze. “What?”
Wooyoung pointed his pizza at you. “You’re spiraling.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
You dropped your bag onto one of the stools. “I’m fine.” Wooyoung laughed as he took a bite. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You walked into this apartment like someone just told you the IRS was outside.”
You glared at him as Wooyoung took another bite. Still staring. Still judging. Still entirely too observant for your liking. Then his eyes widened like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Oh my God.” You immediately regretted everything. “What now?”
“You really do want him.”
“No.”
“YOU DO.”
“I DON’T.”
Wooyoung practically slapped the counter. “You do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
“You literally sound twelve.”
You grabbed a paper plate. “I’m getting pizza.” Wooyoung gasped at you. “You are avoiding the conversation.” You shook your head as you grabbed two slices. “I’m hungry.” You shoved a slice into your mouth as Wooyoung folded his arms then smirked. A dangerous smirk. The kind that usually meant somebody’s life was about to become significantly more difficult. “Did something happen?”
“No.”
“You hesitated.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
You sighed dramatically. Because unfortunately something had happened. Not a big thing. Not really. Just enough things. Enough tiny moments. Enough comments. Enough looks. Enough questions. Enough of Yunho being… Yunho. And now your brain refused to shut up about it. Refused to forget the way his lips felt grazing your ear…. Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed further. “What did he say?” You stared at your pizza. Bad sign. Very bad sign. Because now Wooyoung looked genuinely interested. “Oh, this is serious.”
You chewed at your pizza, hesitant before swallowing. “He told me… he told me if he…” you could still hear the way his voice had dropped when he said it. “If he had me in bed every night then… no other woman would exist to him.” The silence was loud because Wooyoung was never silent and somehow now…. he was speechless. You watched him blink. Once. Twice. Then he slowly set his pizza down on the counter. “Oh.”
You hated that response. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Woo.”
“Nothing.”
“Wooyoung.”
His eyes snapped back to yours. “Y/N.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He grinned. “Because I think I just witnessed the moment your life became a romantic comedy. A very hot romantic comedy.” You groaned. “Oh my God. Shut up.”
“No, seriously.” He pointed at you. “Do you have any idea how insane that is. He was flirting. Practically throwing himself at you.” You shook your head in complete denial. “He was not.”
“Yes he was.”
“No he wasn’t.”
Wooyoung stared at you a second before shaking his head. “Jesus Christ.” You groaned. “What now?” He rolled his eyes in pure exasperation. “You really don’t see it.” Your brows furrowed, your voice muffled around the bite of pizza. “See what?”
“The fact that Yunho Jeong has been down catastrophically bad for you since law school.”
You choked a little and pointed your pizza at him. “Don’t say that.”
“Make me.”
“You are impossible.”
“Again,” Wooyoung said, “he practically through himself at you.”
“He did not.”
“Y/N.”
“He did not.”
“Y/N.”
You groaned loudly. Because the problem wasn’t that Wooyoung was wrong. The problem was that for the first time… you weren’t entirely convinced he was. Your gaze drifted toward the clock on the microwave. Yunho would be here soon. And suddenly the thought of being alone with him felt very different than it had this earlier. Dangerously different.
You quickly finished eating your pizza and didn’t even glance at Wooyoung as you headed towards the bathroom. “I’m getting a shower before Satan gets here.” The bathroom door slammed shut behind you. Your clothes came off achingly slow. You sat your phone on the sink counter, letting music play to try and clear your head. Steam poured into the room as the water rushed out the shower head. Scolding and too hot. You adjusted it and stepped in letting the water try and fail to wash away your spiraling thoughts.
“He was not throwing himself at me.” You didn’t believe yourself anymore though. Because in the comfort of the shower you started to think. How in law school Yunho would always been standing outside your civil procedure class and would finally go in once you showed up. How he once brought handed you coffee on graduation day because he happened to have an extra but it tasted like your favorite. How he mentioned his dad’s law firm had an opening and you thought he was trying to annoy you and then next day you got a call from Mr. Jeong himself…..
“Oh my god…” you stopped washing your hair as the realization slammed into you. “he was throwing himself at me.” Holy shit. It should have been obvious. Your heart was pounding now because Yunho on his way over. You were both about to spend insane amounts of time together in the near future for this case. And he likes you. “Fuck!” You almost slipped, your hand shooting out your grab at the shower curtain.
What were you supposed to do? What if you were crazy? Imagining it? What if Wooyoung had gotten inside your head? But even as the thoughts came, they felt weaker. Less convincing. Because the truth was becoming impossible to ignore. The truth was that this wasn’t just physical anymore. Wasn’t just finding him attractive. Wasn’t just noticing the way his suits fit. Or the way his hair fell into his eyes. Or the way his voice always seemed lower when he spoke directly to you.
Somewhere along the way, something had changed. Something dangerous. Something that made your pulse race every time he looked at you too long. Something that made the thought of him showing up at your front door feel terrifying and exciting all at once.
You closed your eyes. And finally admitted the thing you’d been avoiding for years. “Shit.” Because the problem wasn’t that Yunho liked you. The problem was that you liked him too. Because now every want and needy thought you’ve ever had about him shifted from just physical attraction to something else. Something crazy. Completely and totally insane. “Oh my god.” You wanted him too and that realization refused to leave.
Even after you finished washing your hair. Even after you stood beneath the spray for another five minutes pretending your life hadn’t just completely unraveled. By the time you finally shut the water off, your fingers were wrinkled and your thoughts were somehow worse. “Great.” You grabbed a towel. “Fantastic.” You wrapped another towel around your hair as you stepped out of the shower. “Wonderful.” The mirror was fogged over completely. Which was probably for the best. You didn’t need to see the expression on your own face right now.
Because apparently after seven years of arguing with Yunho, you had finally realized you had feelings for him. Feelings. Actual feelings. You wanted to throw yourself out a window. But unfortunately you lived on the eighteenth floor. You tightened the towel around yourself and stormed toward the door. This was Wooyoung’s fault. Entirely his fault. If he’d just kept his mouth shut, you’d still be blissfully ignorant. Or trying to be anyways.
The second the bathroom door opened, you were already talking. “This is your fault.” You marched into the hallway. “You couldn’t just mind your own business for once in your life.” The living room came into view. “And now I have to spend the entire evening pretending I don’t have feelings for….” You screamed. The kind of scream usually reserved for horror movies and home invasions. Because Yunho was sitting on your couch now looking equally startled for approximately half a second before he started laughing.
“Oh my God!” Your hand flew to your chest, gripping your towel. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Across the room, Wooyoung was absolutely useless. In fact, he looked delighted. “There she is!” You glared at your best friend before your gaze snapped back toward Yunho. Which was a mistake. A huge mistake. Because somehow seeing him outside the office felt different. The charcoal suit jacket was gone. Tossed over the back of the couch. His tie hung loose around his neck. The top button of his white dress shirt had disappeared. The sleeves were pushed up to his forearms. And somehow that looked more intimate than if he’d shown up wearing nothing but sweatpants.
You hated that thought immediately as Yunho’s eyes flicked over you, dragging down and staring at where the fluffy pink towel you had ended just barely covering anything. Then he looked directly at the ceiling and a muscle jumped in his jaw. And of course Wooyoung noticed. The bastard looked like Christmas had come early. “You know,” Wooyoung said casually, “most people greet guests when they arrive.”
“I was in the shower!”
“Clearly.”
You groaned. Because somehow this day had gone from bad to catastrophic. And the worst part? The absolute worst part? You’d just spent twenty minutes realizing you had feelings for Yunho. Then immediately walked into your living room wearing nothing but a towel. Wooyoung looked between the two of you grinning as you backed toward the hallway, tightening your grip on the towel again. “I’m getting dressed.”
“Probably for the best,” Wooyoung agreed and you glared at him. Then at Yunho. Then immediately regretted looking at Yunho because he was already looking at you. “Five minutes,” you muttered before disappearing down the hall and into your room and slamming the door behind you.
Silence settled over the apartment. Or at least it should have. Instead, Yunho found himself staring at the wall. His brain had stopped cooperating somewhere around the moment you’d walked into the living room. Not because of the towel. Well. Not entirely because of the towel. It was the fact that you’d looked completely caught off guard. Completely real. Not the sharp tongued attorney who spent every workday arguing with him. Not the woman who could dismantle opposing counsel with a single question.
Just you.
Then his mind drifted. The way when you had turned around he could see a glimpse of your ass peaking from the bottom of the towel. “Well,” Wooyoung’s voice snapped him out of it. “I’m going to my room. I have a new season….” Yunho stopped listening again as Wooyoung disappeared down the same hall you had. He’s wanted you for seven years. Obsessed over you. Yearned over you. Might of moaned your name a few times during one night stands. And now he was sitting here in your apartment and had the perfect opportunity to finally try and have you. “Shit.” Why did he feel nervous? He doesn’t get nervous.
The apartment felt strangely quiet when you stepped back into the hallway. For a moment you simply stood there. Yunho was exactly where you’d left him. Sitting on the couch. One arm stretched across the back cushion. The case file sitting untouched on the coffee table. And he was staring at absolutely nothing. Lost somewhere inside his own head. You’d never known Yunho to be quiet.
The floor creaked beneath your foot and his head turned. And immediately his eyes found you. His gaze dropped before he could stop it. Legs. Bare from mid thigh down. Your black shorts doing nothing to cover them. His jaw tightened and his eyes immediately snapped back to yours. And for the first time all day, Yunho looked caught. Actually caught. Not cocky. Not smug. Caught.
Something about that made your stomach flip. “Nice staring,” you called him out and his eyebrow lifted. “Nice outfit.” You rolled your eyes. “There he is.” He grinned, eyes lighting up. “Missed me?”
“Not even a little.”
“Liar.” The word came automatically. Like breathing. Like every conversation you’d ever had together. Yet somehow tonight it felt different. Softer and more familiar. Your gaze drifted toward the coffee table. Toward the thick litigation folder sitting there. Thank God. Something normal. “Did you at least bring the case file?” Yunho followed your gaze and let out a quiet laugh. “I did.”
“Good.”
“Look at us.”
You frowned. “What?”
“Being responsible.”
“We’re attorneys.”
“Debatable.”
You snorted before you could stop yourself and Yunho’s expression immediately brightened. Like he’d just won something. Idiot. You hesitated another second before finally crossing the room. Every step felt weirdly loud and noticeable. The couch suddenly looked much smaller than it was. You hated that. You hated it even more because Yunho seemed perfectly relaxed. Until you sat down. Then his entire body went subtly rigid. The cushion dipped beneath your weight, thigh ending up far closer to his than either of you probably expected.
The scent of your shampoo drifted through the air as you reached forward grabbing the case file before your brain could focus on anything else. “Okay,” you said, opening it onto your lap. “Work.”
“Work,” Yunho agreed. The word sounded strangely disappointed but you ignored that as you flipped hrough the first few pages. “Corporate fraud.”
“Mm.”
“Thousands of pages of discovery.”
“Mm.”
You glanced over but Yunho wasn’t looking at the file. He was looking at you. You cleared your throat finding it harder now to focus on anything other than your newly accepted feelings for him. “So…” you looked back towards the file, scanning words but not reading any of them. “this is a pretty big case…”
“I want you.”
You froze and you could practically hear the panic in Yunho’s voice. “Shit…” he did not mean to say that out loud. Not like that. “I mean…. I uh…” he shook his head. Because fuck it. “Actually…. Yeah. I want you. Fuck.” He let out a humorless laugh. “It’s driving me crazy for the better part of a decade.” When he looked at you, you were still staring at the file. Frozen. Shocked. “Look…. I know you…. Kind of hate me. I mean…. I do…”
“I don’t hate you.” Your voice was quiet, heart beating so loud you were sure Wooyoung could hear it from his room. Because Wooyoung was right. Your shower spiraling was right. Yunho had feelings for you. “I don’t think I ever hated you. You could just be…. a pain in the ass.” Yunho snorted despite his confession making him nervous. “I was only like that because I never wanted someone like that before. And I couldn’t afford distractions in law school. So I… tried blocking you out… it just made it worse.”
You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “So you just decided to be like some third grader pulling at my pigtails.” He laughed then. A full on real laugh. “Something like that.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re an absolute idiot.” It got silent for a moment. You both just stared at each other until Yunho looked away. “Idiot might be understatement. I…. there’s something you should know.” He hesitated. Because what he was about to say was probably gonna make actually hate him. But he couldn’t shoot his shot without the truth being out. Otherwise it would eat him alive.
“What is it?” You furrowed because he liked serious. Like what he had to say was more serious than his arguments defending anyone in court. “I knew your boyfriend cheated on you. I saw him…”
“It was you.” You cut him off. Of course it was Yunho. He never could mind his own business. “You sent me that email. The pictures….. what you just…. followed him?” Yunho scoffed like he was offended. “I didn’t follow anyone.” He shrugged. “I hired a private investigator.”
“Oh my god…” you laughed. Because what were you supposed to say? Were you meant to be mad? Mad that he caught your boyfriend cheating and found a somewhat weird to tell you? “you’re obsessed with me.” You were joking. Kind of. Mainly teasing but Yunho didn’t deny. In fact his demeanor shifted. He sat up, and when his gaze met yours again…. it had darkened. Sharpened into something heated and hungry that made your stomach twist and your thighs to almost clench together.
“I told you…” the tone of his voice had dropped. Which was dangerous. Because Yunho’s voice was already deep. Intoxicating if you will. But right now….. you couldn’t help but remember the break room and that same tone against your…. “that if you had me in your bed no other woman would exist to you.” You finished for him and it was like all that tension that built for the last seven years snapped.
“Wrong.” Yunho’s gaze dropped to your legs, taking his time to work his way up, pausing at your lips and staying there. “No other woman exist to me since that first day you told me to fuck off.”
You knew the two of you should probably talk. Actually talk. Go over everything. Have that real, I like you, you like me, speech…. but you were over it. Seven years of him driving you crazy. Seven years of him obsessing over you…. your own gaze fell to the loose tie around his neck and you remembered that little drunk confession you gave Wooyoung.
“What are you….” Yunho froze when you reached out and grabbed his tie. You gripped it, thumb rubbing against the material. “You want to know what I was talking about…. when you were eavesdropping at work?” You looked at him and your gaze was almost as dark and hungry as his. Yunho gulped, remembering that phone call. He hadn’t heard much other than you proclaiming no sex. “Wooyoung was reminding me of a dirty little secret.”
“Yeah?” Yunho was gone. He was gone the second you grabbed his tie. You could tell him to get on the floor right now and bark me he probably would. Because the way you’re looking at him. Like you’re imagining every detail of him under his clothes. Like you could see his dick twitch in his pants when you tugged his tie a little. “Mhm.” You started scooting closer on the couch, your thigh brushing against his leg now. “Apparently I told him I wanted to choke you with this tie” you gave his tie another tug for emphasis. “and make you beg for it.”
You both just stared at each other for a moment before leaned his head back, let out a groan and then looked back at you completely undone. “Fuck me.” He grabbed you, your grip on his tie tightening as he pulled you into his lap. Your lips met messy. Desperately. Needy. You moaned into because now you could feel him. Feel the bulge in his pants where his dick had started getting hard the second you grabbed his tie. Could feel his dick twitch when your tongues collided. And you moaned when he pulled back just enough to start kissing down your neck, lips grasping at any skin available within the tank top you had on.
“Fuck…” Yunho was the one moaning now as you kept your grip on his tie and started rocking, grinding. His dick aching in his pants as you rode him. “You gonna beg for me, Yunho?” He wanted to say no. It was instinct. He never begged before in his life. He always had control. But for you…. “Make me.”
“I bet you don’t last two minutes.” You said it so sure of yourself and that alone made him want to give in. He watched you, pupils blown, dick practically screaming to be let out and buried inside you already. You reached down with the free hand that wasn’t still gripping his tie and palmed him through his pants. His bulge alone was big and you could only imagine what he had zipped up underneath. And Yunho? He just sat there, his breath already uneven as your fingers worked at his belt and zipper with deliberate slowness.
The apartment around you felt charged, the spring air from Chicago filtering through a cracked window doing little to cool the heat building between your bodies. You tugged his pants and underwear down just enough, freeing his dick. It sprang out, thick and heavy, the tip already flushed and aching with a bead of precum that caught the low light.
A low groan rumbled from his chest the moment your hand wrapped around him, and you felt it twitch hard against your palm, pulsing with need as if it had a mind of its own. You stroked him once, twice, dragging your thumb over the slit to spread that slickness, savoring how his hips jerked forward involuntarily. His tie remained clenched in your other hand, anchoring him in place while you worked him in unhurried strokes that made his thighs tense and his knees weaken slightly. Every vein along his length throbbed under your grip, the heat of him radiating into your skin as you took your time exploring every inch.
You shifted closer on the couch, using the head of his dick to hook the edge of your shorts and panties and with a slow push, you moved the fabric aside, exposing your soaked pussy to the cool air. Instead of taking him inside you, you guided him between your folds, letting the length glide along your slick. The underside of his dick pressing right against your clit as you rocked your hips, using him like a toy to rub slow circles. Each pass sent sparks through you, your grip on his tie tightening while your strokes on him matched the rhythm.
Yunho's jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck standing out as he fought to stay still, but his dick kept twitching between your folds, leaking more with every glide. You could feel the way his tip caught just slightly on your entrance before sliding up again, teasing without entering, building that unbearable friction against your swollen clit. His breathing grew ragged, eyes locked on where your bodies met, pupils blown wide with the effort of holding back as you kept the pace torturously steady, riding the length of him without letting him slip in, your clit grinding down on the ridge of his tip again and again in deliberate, dragging motions that made your own thighs quiver.
The wet sounds of your arousal coating him filled the room, mixing with his soft curses under his breath. “Fuck sweetheart..” His control frayed at the edges with every pass, shoulders rigid, fingers digging into the couch cushions as he resisted the urge to thrust up into you. You edged him mercilessly, slowing your strokes whenever his dick pulsed too hard, drawing out the moment until the tension built in his body like a coiled spring. The pressure mounted in your own core too, each glide pushing you closer until your own orgasm hit. Your thighs shook, a soft cry escaping as you came against him, slick coating him further and dripping down him. That was when he broke.
“Fuck… please ok! Please let me fuck you,” Yunho gasped out, voice strained and desperate, his hands trembling as they gripped your hips. And the second you nodded, he moved. Strong hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he stood. He didn’t wait, didn’t tease, he lined up and impaled you down onto his dick in one deep thrust. The stretch burned in the best way, forcing a sharp cry from your throat as he filled you completely, thick and unyielding, your walls clenching around every inch of him.
He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, then his fingers dug into your thighs and he started pounding up into you. Each thrust drove deep, the force making your body bounce against him while you clung to his tie and shoulders like a lifeline. The living room filled with the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin and there was no way Wooyoung wasn’t hearing all of this with the way your moans grew louder until you screamed his name, your pussy clenching hard as you squirted around him, soaking his dick and thighs in a rush of release that stained dripped and stained the carpet below you.
“Which one is your bedroom?” Yunho asked, his voice hoarse with need. Still buried inside you, “the…. one on the right down the hall…” you were breathless as he carried you there without pulling out, every step making him shift and press deeper, his dick nudging against sensitive spots and wedging against your g spot that had you gasping. He wasted no time getting you on the bed, his gaze catching site of the mirror angled perfectly toward it and grinned, dark and hungry as you both made quick haste of getting your clothes off, tossing them aside until nothing remained between you.
He grabbed you, pulling your body flush to his. “Look at the mirror,” he ordered, sinking to his knees between your legs. “Watch how I make you beg for it.” His tongue thrusted into your pussy in firm, wet strokes that had you arching instantly. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging at the bleached strands as the pleasure built fast and sharp. Your legs shook, cries spilling out, “fuck…. Yunho… please… please make me come…. I need…” you started grinding against his face and he didn’t let up until you shattered again, body trembling and pulsing around his tongue.
Yunho kissed his way back up your body, slow and deliberate, pausing when you eyed his dick and he smirked. “If you want a taste all you have to do is take it.” You shook your head, pulling him closer. “Next time,” you breathed, needing him inside you again too badly to wait. Too impatient for it. “Fuck…” he had to hold back from saying, Fuck I love you, instead, he flipped you onto your stomach, holding you down and positioning you to face the mirror.
The head of his dick teased between your pussy and ass, sliding back and forth in lazy passes that made you whimper and push back. After a minute of that torment he sank back into you with a single thrust, your walls instantly clenching around him as one of his hands fisted in your hair, tilting your head toward the reflection of the mirror. The sight of him over you, buried inside you staring back a painted sin. “Watch…. watch how my dick is about to make you mine.”
He started fucking you hard, hips snapping forward in deep, relentless strokes that had you babbling, begging, “harder…. harder….. deeper… Yunho please…” and he gave it to you. Hands gripping your waist, hard, as he grinded into you, “you feel so fucking good, sweetheart….” he paused for a moment just to feel you clenching around him, then, just as the pressure peaked, he pulled out and flipped you and folded you a little, your legs pressed up and over his shoulders.
He tapped his dick against your clit a few times before sinking back in, his hands moving your legs to pin your thighs down as you watched in the mirror as you started squirting again, making a mess over both of you. Ruining the new sheets you only bought a few days ago after Wooyoung spilled his iced coffee on your others. The sight spurred him on, his pace turning brutal. “You’re mine. Pussy… mine. All of you. Mine.” Maybe he was a little possessive.
Your back arched as another orgasm crashed through you, sobs and cries tearing free but Yunho didn’t stop. He kept pounding, chasing his own release until he buried himself deep and came with a groan, filling you until he you milked him almost dry then he collapsed on top of you, still buried inside, his weight comforting as you rubbed slow circles over his back, a soft chuckle escaping you. “You begged for it.” He lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes with a satisfied grin curving his own lips.
“So did you.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The next morning felt strange. Not bad strange. But an awkward kind of strange. For seven years, you and Yunho had existed in this bizarre limbo of arguments, tension, stolen glances, and denial. Now, after finally tearing down every wall between you, you were somehow expected to walk into Jeong & Partners and act normal. Which was proving significantly harder than either of you anticipated. Especially because Yunho was terrible at it.
“You are wearing the same suit.”
Yunho looked over from the driver’s seat. “So?” He hadn’t even gone home last night. After he had finally pulled himself out of you, you took another shower, that lead to you dropping to your knees and finally getting him in your mouth. Had an amused and smug little told you so looks thrown at you from Wooyoung. Slept together which lead you to find out that Yunho liked being the little spoon which was beyond hilarious with his size. Then he gave you no argument in letting him drive you both to work in his ridiculously expensive Mercedes.
You stared at him. “People will know.” Not that you really cared. “And?” And apparently Yunho didn’t either. You looked at him as pulled into the law firm parking garage and when he looked back at you after parking, you both burst out laughing.
Five minutes later, the elevator doors opened onto the twentieth floor and immediately, something felt off. Not wrong. Just… observant. Associates looked up from their desks. Assistants paused mid conversation. Even the receptionist seemed suspiciously interested in her computer screen. Nobody knew anything. But somehow everybody knew something.
You stepped out first with Yunho a few feet behind you. Both of you trying very hard to appear casual. Which probably would’ve worked if Yunho didn’t keep looking at you every thirty seconds as you headed toward your office. And you almost made it. But then Yunho’s eyes narrowed. Because across the floor, Danny appeared. Coffee in hand. Making a direct path toward you just like every morning. Only this morning was different. Because this morning, Yunho’s patience had completely disappeared.
Danny slowed as Yunho walked straight past him. Past several confused associates. Past two paralegals who immediately stopped pretending to work. Then he reached you and you barely had time to speak before his hand wrapped around your wrist. “What are you doing?”
“One second.”
“Yunho.”
He ignored you completely as he turned you toward him and kissed you. Right there in the middle of the litigation department. The entire floor collectively forgot how to breathe and when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against yours, a grin tugging at his mouth. Possessive and completely unrepentant. And entirely too pleased with himself.
“Mine,” he murmured softly and your face immediately flushed. “Yunho….”
“Just reminding you.” Then his eyes shifted past you. Right towards the frozen associate still holding two coffees. Yunho smiled bright and friendly. And definitely cocky. “Morning, Danny.”
Danny looked like someone had personally unplugged his soul. And without another word, Yunho straightened his jacket and continued walking toward his office as if he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in the middle of the firm. The silence lasted approximately three seconds. Then chaos erupted. Across the floor, associates started whispering. Phones appeared. Someone actually dropped a stack of files.
And from behind the glass walls of the managing offices, Mr. Jeong looked up from a contract. Watched his son disappear into his office. Watched you standing there frozen. Watched Danny questioning every life decision he’d ever made. Then the older man leaned back in his chair and shook his head, muttering to himself.
🔮 preview. Johnny also releases a groan, opting to break the kiss in favour of looking up at you. His pupils are blown with lust, and the cosmic magic floating like lights above you casts colours against your Captain’s skin. He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and it makes your insides twist into knots. “Tell me what you want, Sir,” you urge, hating this stop-and-go style of foreplay that you’ve been engaging in. It’s as if he gives in, only to recollect himself and pull back, and it’s making you frustrated in a way you’ve never experienced.
tw/cw. Alcohol consumption, discussions about war/trauma, Unprotected sex, inexperienced!reader, power/age imbalance, forplay, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, oral, pussy eating, blow job, deep throat, multiple sex positions, overstimulation, pussy eating with a school girl skirt on, dirty talk, praise, sexual power dynamic, soft/pleasure dom!Johnny, big dick!Johnny, dry humping, thigh grinding, body/breast worship, face grinding, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) little bird. (his) Captain, Sir.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 11.2k
🍭 aus. Fantasy au, knight au, magic user au, age gap, dark!Johnny, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. Not gonna lie, I’ve been obsessed with fantasy anime lately, and this one is heavily inspired by Black Clover, but it’s not that far off from Dungeons and Dragons, and all sorts of fantasy, but with my own little twists :) There’s definitely a possibility of spin-offs from this, and Svt has their own mentioned squad, so if people like this one and want to see something in the same realm for Svt, I’m super up for that too.
Prologue:
If a mage with the power of foresight had told Johnny that his entire squad would be wiped out during a war against a rival kingdom, he would have laughed. If that mage had then gone on to say that the magic King would also be killed, and that Johnny would be named his successor, he would have called that treason.
And yet, both of those things happened, and that’s how, at the age of 25, Johnny became the default Captain of his own royal knight mage squad. It’s also how he became the first magic user in history to turn down the role of King.
There was no way he could do it. Not after witnessing his entire squad - his entire family - be wiped out by one devastating power surge from an enemy dark magic user general. There was nothing Johnny’s cosmic magic power could do to stop it, but in the aftermath, Johnny did unlock an extremely powerful move of his own: Black Hole.
In a fit of rage and despair, Johnny unleashed this new move, wiping the entire enemy force off the face of the Earth in one fell swoop, gaining notoriety in his own kingdom. But notoriety doesn’t fill the halls of his royal guard castle with laughter, and all his power couldn’t bring back what he had lost.
He was a vice-captain during the war, a man known for his smile, his dedication to training recruits, and for taking every new member of his squad under his wing.
Now, as he sits looking down at this year's saturated recruit trial, Johnny can’t so much as quirk the edges of his lips in an attempt to feign joy. No, his expression is as set as stone and as cold as ice.
“Come on, Johnny,” Jaehyun, the new magic King, sighs. “I can’t choose your new squad for you.”
The once boisterous and talkative man remains silent, and his long-time friend lets out another breath. If it were up to Jaehyun, he would release Johnny from his bonds to the knighthood, but he’s too important an asset to give up, and in too fragile a state to be left to his own destructive devices.
The new magic King leans closer to his friend. “As you know, I have already transferred a few senior members of other squads to your own. You have your new vice captain, Yuta, who wields flame magic. Doyoung covers ice. Taeyong has teleportation magic. All squads need seven members under their captain to be recognised, so you need four new members today.”
Johnny releases a breath, but again, remains silent.
“I have talked with one of my advisors, and he has singled out four recruits that I want you to keep an eye on today,” Jaehyun continues. “Lee Haechan has lightning magic, and he needs a steady hand to help him control himself. Kim Jungwoo is a returning recruit who was not selected last year. You might remember him and his flower magic. Since we last saw him, I’m told he’s worked on offensive applications of his power and has come a long way. Then there’s Mark Lee, he has a sound mana, which might not sound impressive, but his primary attack, sonic boom, can be as destructive as any elemental power-”
Johnny groans, and Jaehyun falters on his words. It’s clear Johnny doesn’t want to be here, and Jaehyun reminds himself that this is one of the only events in the near future that Johnny will have to attend. After this, he can go back to his castle and mourn the loss of his previous squad. But for now, there’s a job to do, and Jaehyun will be damned if his first recruitment trial as King is blemished by a notoriously powerful magic knight losing his squad status by not recruiting.
“Finally, y/n l/n. She’s a light magic mage with an extreme affinity for healing.”
“Recruit them all,” Johnny says. “I don’t care.”
This is an uphill battle, and Jaehyun wonders how long Johnny will stay in this desolate mood. There isn’t a timeline for healing, especially not after losing an entire squad and being the sole survivor.
All Jaehyun can do is support Johnny, as a King, and as a friend.
One:
“That’s enough for now,” Yuta’s voice cuts through the courtyard. “Take five.”
“Finally,” Hyuck groans, collapsing onto the ground, his fingers still twitching with electric power.
You, Mark and Jungwoo follow Hyuck’s example, sitting on the grass and trying to catch your breath.
“We’ve been here for five years,” Hyuck groans. “You’d think Yuta would stop working us like dogs. We’re not recruits anymore.”
“We’re the youngest ones here,” you point out.
“Because Captain Johnny is never around and hasn’t bothered to recruit anyone younger than us,” Hyuck fires back. “I understood treating me like this when I was fifteen, but I’m twenty now. It would be nice for Yuta to show a little respect.”
“Right, because we’ve all proven ourselves with the minor jobs we’re assigned once in a blue moon,” you giggle sarcastically.
“It’s not our fault that other squads get the good learning experience!”
“We all knew what we were signing up for when Captain Johnny recruited us,” Jungwoo reminds you as he runs a hand through his soft blond hair.
“I figured we’d be training under the baddest Captain ever, someone with cosmic magic, not under ‘Flame Prince Yuta,’” Hyuck rolls his eyes.
“Captain Johnny does have a reputation,” Mark notes. “Do you guys believe the rumours that his Black Hole power was a one-time event?”
“No, if a mage learns a spell, they can use it whenever they want if they have the right level of magic,” Hyuck insists. “Was kind of hoping to see that spell in person.”
“I heard it was pretty devastating,” Jungwoo frowns.
“Well, it killed over a thousand people in one second,” Hyuck chuckles. “Pretty overpowered if you ask me.”
“Hey, isn’t it supposed to be Captain John’s birthday soon?” you ask, trying to redirect the conversation away from the war, which always leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
“Dirty thirty, right?” Hyuck grins. “He’s so old.”
“That’s not even that old,” you scoff, immediately starting to daydream about your stoic, solitary Captain.
Out of everyone in the squad, you have the best sense for magic and energy, and from the day Johnny chose you as part of his team, you could see the dark swirls of torment that follow him everywhere.
You’ve always been the person who wants to help others, even as a child, and that need to be useful manifested into healing magic. But no matter how powerful you become, you can’t heal aura or emotional pain, and in that way, you know you can’t heal your powerful recluse of a Captain.
Two:
Doyoung and Yuta were quite specific in their insistence that you and the others don’t mention it’s Captain John’s birthday, but try as you might, you can’t ignore it.
You’re sure there must be sadness on this day, knowing he’s now thirty, while all of his former squad mates stopped ageing with their deaths during the war. You’d found a book about the squad in the height of their grandeur, how John had been vice-captain and leader of over twenty men. His Captain at the time had been a man named Jinyoung, a twenty-nine-year-old with the power of wind magic.
Maybe that’s it.
John is now older than his former Captain had been when he died.
You push through the sad feeling, holding the bottle of Fire Dragon Whiskey tight in your small hands.
Captain John hardly leaves his room, but when he does, it’s usually to retrieve a bottle of this from the kitchen, a brand that Yuta specially requests for him from the servants. You’d done a little snooping last time you’d been in town and found out that this specific brand is prized for its limitations.
The brewery that makes Fire Dragon Whiskey makes only ten boxes every month, which they distribute on the first. It’s only the ninth today, but the one bottle Yuta always graces John with has long since been drunk.
You’d saved up some of your wages to acquire this bottle, and it’s been hiding in your room for over a week, now ready to be presented to your Captain.
Standing outside the door that leads to his room, you suddenly feel very small, and you draw in a shaky breath. This wing of the castle is pretty much off limits, and you know in your mind you shouldn’t be here, but in your heart, you also know that this is the right thing.
You knock gently three times, setting the bottle on the floor before turning to go, and you’re not five steps back down the hallway when you hear a soft clearing of a man’s throat.
“What’s this?” John asks.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you, Captain, but I wanted to give you a birthday present,” you tell him, turning to face the regal man while your skin heats with embarrassment.
“I see.” Johnny bends down and picks up the bottle, inspecting it as he rises again. He’s in black leather pants, and a dark robe half obscures the fact that he’s shirtless. You swallow the lump in your throat as you try to tear your eyes away from his lean muscles and the scars that mar his pretty skin.
“I should be going now,” you stammer.
“You should stay,” Johnny says immediately, propping his door open wider. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Besides, it’s bad luck to drink alone on your birthday, or so they say.”
“I wouldn’t know the first thing about drinking rules, Sir,” you tell him shyly, following the tall Captain back into his room. “I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Oh, right,” Johnny frowns, closing the door behind you.
It’s suddenly extremely apparent that there is an age gap between the two of you. Not that it’s illegal for a woman of your age to drink, after all, Hyuck is known for his taste in Vodka, but you come from one of the top houses of the realm, and you were raised not to engage in the more… common proclivities that lead to addiction and loss of class.
You push the thoughts of age gaps to the side, taking in his room. It’s a massive space, but what draws your eyes immediately is the vaulted ceiling, and floating in that ceiling is what appears to be a solar system.
You’ve seen drawings of this in textbooks, but never a 3D image like this, never so detailed…
This must be his cosmic power, and its beauty takes your breath away.
Johnny follows your gaze. “Oh, that,” he sighs, taking a seat on one of the leather couches that make up a small seating area in front of the large windows that overlook the dark courtyard below. “I’ve had a surplus of mana ever since the war. Creating this image, this solar system, it helps me release some of that power, keeps me calm, level-headed.”
You’re not sure how level-headed or calm Johnny is, as you’ve hardly spent any time around him, but his reputation would beg to differ with the words coming out of his mouth.
“Anyways, you’re y/n, right?” Johnny asks.
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir.”
“Okay, Captain.” You swallow thickly.
Johnny stares at you for a moment, then he laughs, shaking his head as he opens the bottle of Fire Dragon Whiskey. “If you insist on calling me Captain, I’ll have to call you a name of your own,” he warns.
“Whatever pleases you, Captain,” you blurt out immediately.
The laughter dies in his throat, and you can feel him inspecting you. There’s a thick tension in the air, an emotion and energy in his aura that you can’t quite put your finger on. Cosmic pinks and yellows erupt in the mana that surrounds him, a mana that only extremely adept seers can even begin to comprehend or visualise.
“So, little birdie, tell me, how are you enjoying being a part of the squad?” Johnny asks, and your stomach somersaults at his choice of pet name.
“Um, well, Captain, I like it very much,” you tell him.
“And how about being the only woman? I know it can be a bit of a sausage fest.”
“A sausage fest, Captain?” you ask, blinking at him.
“It’s when… well,” Johnny practically bites his tongue. “Never mind that. No one has bugged you about being the only girl here?”
“Well, Captain…” You consider his question. “Hyuck can be a bit of a flirt, but he’s harmless.”
“I see.” Johnny takes a swig of the whiskey, and you enjoy the way his muscles flex. He leans back against the couch, his robe shifting to reveal more of his skin.
Captain Johnny must catch the way your eyes immediately scan his form, because he adjusts the robe, covering himself. You doubt he’s a man of modesty, so you wonder if perhaps he’s choosing to hide his body for your sake more than his own.
You wonder how he views you. Probably the same as every other man you meet in this profession.
They all view you as a sweet little highborn who wants to heal the world but is too naive to ever make a difference.
“Tell me more,” Johnny insists.
“Captain?”
“About your time here. It’s been five years now, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“And…” he fishes, “Does it… upset you that we hardly take on tasks? We don’t do border patrol or scour ruins.”
“No, Captain, we don’t do those things, but we train, and vice-captain Yuta is as scary a foe as I’m sure we’d meet on the battlefield.”
Johnny blinks at you, and for a moment, you can’t believe you’ve just made a joke about your superior, but then, Captain John laughs. It’s a boisterous laugh, the first time you’ve ever seen him truly lose himself in an emotion other than despair.
“Vice-captain Yuta can be quite terrifying,” Johnny agrees when his laughter dies down.
“I also suppose… after, well, Sir, after the war… the foreign kingdoms have known not to test us, because of Black Hole,” you continue. “So I’m sure many squads feel their life has been somewhat mundane in the past few years.”
Johnny’s expression turns sombre, and you note the way his thumb strokes the neck of the bottle of whiskey. “It’s true,” he muses. “After everything that happened, foreign kingdoms have known not to test us, but that doesn’t mean something bad won’t happen in the future. Fear can only last so long, but anger is infinite.”
His aura flashes with dazzling red, and you realise that this wound is still extremely raw for your Captain. He’s clutching desperately to the hatred that still rages through him, perhaps to overshadow the sadness that lurks beneath the surface.
If he remains enraged, he won’t have to feel despair.
You stare at Johnny for a few moments, wondering if this is in part why he refuses to get close to the new squad.
You suppose it would make sense; if you don’t have anyone you care about, you won’t have anyone to lose… and after facing such a loss as John did… well, it’s no wonder he wouldn’t want to relive that again.
Three:
“Oh,” Jaehyun toys with the bottle of Fire Dragon Whiskey in his hand, the one he’d bought last month in preparation for Johnny’s birthday, “I see someone beat me to this, but I guess I am a day late.”
“You can never have too much whiskey,” Johnny muses, accepting the bottle as the King heads to the windows that look out over the courtyard, where the younger squad members are training.
“They’ve come a long way in five years,” Jaehyun notes.
“Yuta and Doyoung can be strict teachers,” Johnny agrees, standing next to his friend.
Johnny follows Jaehyun’s gaze and notices the way it lingers on you.
“I had hoped you would continue to recruit,” the King sighs. “Being the only woman in a squad must be… difficult.”
“She’s okay with it,” Johnny assures his friend. “I checked in with her about it yesterday.”
“Hmm.” Jaehyun has become much more tight-lipped in the five years he’s been Magic King. “Anyways, we found a new dungeon. It shouldn’t be too difficult to clear out, but it’s more than the usual tasks your squad takes on. I figured your teammates would like something of a challenge.”
“Yuta will be happy to take that on.”
“Not just Yuta,” Jaehyun’s gaze shifts to Johnny. “You will be going as well.”
“I will?”
“It will be good for you.”
“Well, if it’s an order-”
“It is,” Jaehyun insists. “I look forward to hearing your report on it.”
“Happy Birthday to me, right?” Johnny half-jokes.
The King assesses Johnny’s face. “Yes.”
With few other pleasantries, the King dismisses himself, and Johnny goes to the window. A minute or so later, Jaehyun appears in the courtyard, and Johnny watches him address the squad.
It’s hard not to notice that Jaehyun is giving you more attention than the others, and it makes Johnny’s grip on the bottle of whiskey tighten. Anyone with eyes can see that you’re quite beautiful. To make matters even more extreme, you’re a light mage, which is rare enough as it is, and not only a light mage, but a light mage with an affinity for healing.
Your abilities would be extremely helpful in the Capital, especially if any other kingdoms get brazen again.
Jaehyun’s not one to talk about it, but Johnny knows there are threats of attacks. Rumours reach even Johnny’s recluse ears, rumours that suggest Black Hole was a one-time use spell. Rumours that Johnny has died or gone off-grid. Rumours that he’s no longer here to protect the Kingdom.
Johnny wonders if his presence in the dungeon, his public showing of being alive, well, and able to kick ass, is an ulterior motive that Jaehyun left unsaid. After all, the top squad is currently SVT, and they’d be more than able to handle a newly found dungeon.
The King says something, reaching out and gently touching your arm, and it makes you smile. For some reason, jealousy bubbles inside of Johnny, and it’s an extremely foreign feeling.
Jaehyun is now almost thirty, and as King, it’s likely he’ll be looking for a wife. Magic King is not a lineage passed title, but having an heir and a queen at your side helps strengthen the position. And as King, Jaehyun doesn’t have the liberty to be a whore Captain like many, who dedicate themselves to the job and have one-night stands in the meantime. No, Jaehyun has to be respectable; he has to set an example by finding a strong, capable wife, and a pretty light magic user with an affinity for healing would fit the bill quite nicely.
You may be young, but everyone can see how smart and kind you are, even Johnny has noticed it.
And the final nail in the coffin is your family line. Your kingdom doesn’t have a royal line in the classic fashion, but you do have five big magic houses, five families that have been known to be strong and well respected. They’re royals in every sense except the title, and many past Kings have stemmed from one of those five lines.
Despite being from one of the big five families, you’ve never acted high or mighty. You’re respectful and respectable, but not in a pompous way.
You truly are the epitome of a perfect candidate to be a wife, for anyone, but especially for a Magic King.
Johnny feels his muscles tense as he continues to watch you talk to Jaehyun, and for the first time in five years, he’s actually glad when Hyuck does an over-the-top spell that causes a distraction and an uproar.
You scurry off to help sort out the mess, and both Johnny and the King watch you go, two strong men with their eyes set on one thing.
Four:
It’s extremely odd to be in a dungeon, but even more odd to have Johnny leading you. He takes the front of the line, with Yuta and Doyoung two steps behind him, the younger part of the squad in the middle, and Taeyong bringing up the rear in case any booby traps require him to use his teleportation magic to quickly save anyone.
Hyuck is practically bursting at the seams to prove himself, and it’s making things more and more difficult the deeper you get into the dungeon.
Your squad enters a large room with a pedestal in the middle. It’s clear to everyone that some sort of treasure is on the pedestal, and just as clear to you that Hyuck sees this as his opportunity to shine.
“I’ll get it!” he bellows, jolting forward with lightning speed.
He’s not two steps past Johnny, who whirls around to try to catch the young knight, and that’s when there’s a loud click. Hyuck has stepped on a trap, and suddenly, everything erupts into chaos.
You’re aware of the door behind you slamming shut, leaving Taeyong and Mark on the other side. Magic traps are set off, sending fire, water, ice, and wind your way, which Doyoung and Yuta are quick to counter, but one fireball slips through, and you see Hyuck get hit in the shoulder.
He goes down like a bag of rocks, and you use your light speed magic to leap to his side, sinking to your knees with your hands already hovering above his wound, ready to heal-
And that’s when the floor opens up beneath you.
You hear someone scream your name, but you’re too shocked as you fall into a black pit to pinpoint whose voice it is-
And that’s when a strong arm wraps around you.
“Antigravity Cosmic Magic!” Johnny bellows, and in a swirl of purples and pinks amongst the darkness, gravity disappears.
The trap that you’d fallen into has closed above you, and Johnny grabs onto Hyuck as well, helping the two of you down to the bottom of the pit safely.
You cling to his lean, muscled body, breathing in the scent of pine and fire that clings to him like a cloak.
It’s the most you can do to tear yourself away from Johnny once your feet are on solid ground again, and the darkness lights up with your Captain’s familiar Cosmic Solar System spell, which casts hues of planetary colours through the pitch black.
“Little bird, are you okay?” Johnny asks, and even as pinks and blues dance across his features, you can see the worry in his eyes.
“I’m alright,” you assure him, swallowing thickly as your eyes cast down to Hyuck, who is groaning on the floor.
You sink to your knees again. “Light magic, Sun Hallowed Healing!”
Bright light erupts from your hands, and Hyuck releases a sigh of relief as you begin to heal his shoulder.
You can feel Johnny’s breath on your shoulder as he hovers over you, watching intently.
“He will be okay, Captain,” you assure Johnny.
When you look up, you realise Johnny also has a scrape or two; he must have jumped through a few magic traps to get to you and Hyuck in time before the hole closed up.
“Sir, are you alright?” you ask, lifting a hand toward his face with the intention to heal him.
Johnny captures your wrist in a tight grip. “I’m fine,” he says, gritting his teeth. “You focus on him, I’ll focus on getting us out of here. And I told you, don’t call me Sir.”
You nod, your focus returning to Hyuck.
A short while later, Johnny uses his antigravity spell to help carry you and Hyuck back up out of the trap pit, rejoining the others.
Even after completing the dungeon, you can’t forget the warmth of your Captain’s hand on your wrist, or the feeling of his breath on your shoulder, the smell of him, or the way his muscles felt when you clung to Johnny like a saviour.
Five:
Everyone is partying in the wake of a successful dungeon trip. Sure, things had become a little hectic at the end, but you’d fully healed Hyuck, and he’s acting like that whole blunder never happened.
But there’s one person who isn’t partaking in the festivities, and after you’re sure your squadmates are good and drunk, you slip away without being noticed.
You make your way to your Captain’s quarters and are surprised to find the door cracked open.
You pause in the hallway, holding your breath.
“Are you coming in, or not, little bird?” Johnny calls.
You poke your head into the room to find Johnny sitting there on the couch, looking up at the moving solar system that seems to constantly inhabit the vaulted ceiling.
“You were expecting me, Captain?” you ask.
“Someone like you would never let me get away with a few scrapes if you could fix them,” Johnny muses, turning his attention to you while you close the door behind yourself.
“Am I that easy to read, Captain?” you question, skin heating with embarrassment.
“You care for others, that’s not something to be ashamed of,” Johnny sighs, sitting up. “Even if it does mean you’ll nose-dive into a trap to save a squad mate.”
“I suppose you’re not too impressed by me today,” you frown.
“That’s not what I said.” He takes a sip from his whiskey. You stare at him for a few moments, and finally, your Captain releases a sigh. “I guess you'd better get on with it then.”
With a nod, you approach your Captain, and he pats the spot on his left, inviting you to sit down.
You assess Johnny, and he shifts a little under your gaze. Taking a breath, you lift your hand, cupping his cheek where a flame trap must have grazed him. “Light magic, Sun Hallowed Healing.”
Your entire body tingles with energy, but it’s not the usual flow out of yourself; even though you’re expending magic to heal your Captain, it almost feels as if you’re the one taking energy from him. Your palm is warm where you make contact with his cheek, and you watch the way his lips part, a small gasp escaping him. Whatever warmth and pleasure you are feeling, he must be feeling as well.
A moment later, you pull your hand away, his cheek now unblemished. “Where else did you get hurt, Captain?” you ask.
“My arm,” Johnny responds, lifting it to show you a jagged slice along his bicep and shoulder. The wound must have been obscured by his cloak earlier, so much so that you hadn’t even noticed it, but now, in just a tank top, you can see the mark all too well.
Your hands find his arm, and you hear Johnny breathe a sigh of relief as you heal him.
“Anywhere else, Captain?” you ask.
“Before I tell you… This magic of yours, is it best with direct contact?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I have clothes covering where I’m injured, will that be a problem?”
“It’s a hindrance, Captain,” you tell him, still confused.
“Well, just so we’re both clear, I’m not taking my pants off for you,” Johnny says, and while he seems to be joking, you can sense the serious undertones, and you see the way his aura flares.
“Pardon?”
“On my thigh, little bird,” Johnny sighs. “I got hit on my thigh.”
“Oh.” You look down, and that’s when you notice a spot on his pants which is darker than the rest. You reach out with shaky hands, holding your breath as you heal him.
The air is thick with tension, and your entire body feels electrified, as if Hyuck has just hit you with a spell.
When you’re satisfied you’ve healed your Captain, you pull your hands away, placing them delicately in your lap.
“Little bird,” Johnny sighs, and you look up at him, realising how close you are.
You can feel his breath again, and that scent overwhelms you, lighting a fire in the pit of your stomach that turns your insides to jelly.
“We…” Johnny audibly swallows a lump in his throat. “You’re younger than me, and I’m your Captain…”
So you really are that easy to read. This man can see right through you.
“Sir…” Your skin heats with embarrassment.
“Look, you’re not the first pretty girl to be… enamoured with my reputation, but… I’m not good. The part of me that was good was killed during the war. I’m a shell, and I can’t…” Johnny’s voice cracks.
“Sir, if I may, you are good,” you insist. “I’ll admit I don’t know you that well yet, but I can see your goodness, and I can feel it. You have a complex aura, but that’s not a shock given what you’ve been through.”
“Little bird, we can’t,” Johnny says again with a sigh.
“Yes, Sir, I understand.” You stand up abruptly. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Sir?”
Johnny opens and closes his mouth. “All good, little bird. Rest up, you had a long day… and don’t call me Sir.”
Six:
It’s been about a week since the dungeon, a week of Johnny avoiding you like the plague… although, it hasn’t been that hard since he’s such a recluse.
But today, you have been summoned by the King to the Capital, and it’s Johnny’s duty to take you there.
Taeyong comes along too, creating the portal for you both, and now here you both are, in King Jaehyun’s office. The proximity to you is making Johnny’s skin tingle, especially since you’re dressed in a little skirt and your squad robe, your legs on display. Johnny forces his eyes forward, directing as much of his attention as possible to the King.
“I bet you’re wondering why I summoned you here today,” Jaehyun starts, focusing on you. “Captain Johnny has already given a report, but I wanted a few details from you as well.”
“Yes, Sir,” you nod, and the word ‘sir’ makes Johnny’s entire body light up with tension.
“First, how is Hyuck doing? I hear he took a nasty hit with some trap magic.”
“Yes, Sir, Hyuck is doing well. My healing magic completely fixed him, and he was up to his usual antics not an hour after we returned to our hideout,” you respond smoothly.
“Completely healed, huh?” Jaehyun sits down at his desk. “Not even a mark?”
“Not even a mark, Sir,” you confirm.
“Tell me more about your magic,” Jaehyun instructs.
“More, Sir?” you falter.
“What have you learned in the past five years? Is it primarily healing magic, or are there defensive or even offensive spells too?”
Jaehyun is extremely attentive to you, and once again, the thought that Johnny dare not speak aloud crosses his mind: ‘the two of you would be very good together.’
Johnny listens silently as you respond to Jaehyun’s questions, and after a while, Jaehyun leans back in his chair, clearly satisfied.
“Our head healing mage is looking for an apprentice,” Jaehyun explains. “Your name was mentioned as a possibility. Light magic healing is so rare, and it seems quite effective as well. We were wondering if you might be interested in coming and living in the Capital, and apprenticing under our head healing mage with the intention of replacing her. If your Captain will give you up, that is.”
Jaehyun’s eyes shift to Johnny, and he practically chokes. There’s a nonverbal communication between the two of them, and it’s clear that Johnny’s attraction to you has not gone unnoticed by his eagle-eyed King.
But before Johnny can even open his mouth to give his consent, you step forward.
“That is a gracious offer, Sir, but if you wouldn’t mind, would it be alright for me to think about it?” you ask. “I have grown extremely fond of my squad in the past five years, and this isn’t a commitment I can agree to without careful consideration.”
Both men stare at you, and Johnny can hear his blood surging through his body, his heart racing. It’s almost like fear, fear that he will lose you to the Capital, fear that the one person who has made an effort to get through to him will disappear forever.
“Yes, take as long as you’d like,” Jaehyun nods.
“Thank you, Sir.” You bow, and Johnny is struck by just how proper you can be if put into the circles that require you to use the clear teachings of your house. You turn to Johnny, giving him a nod, and with that the meeting is over.
Seven:
“So you got a special summons from the King, huh?” Hyuck asks, narrowing his eyes at you when you and Johnny return to the hideout.
“What was it about?” Jungwoo questions, practically bouncing with excitement for the incoming gossip.
“He offered me the role of apprentice under the current head healing mage in the Capital,” you speak plainly, not seeing a point in hiding what just took place.
“Oh.” Mark frowns. He’s usually pretty quiet, so hearing that this news is distressing to him causes your own heart to hurt.
“You should do it,” Doyoung tells you directly. “Working in the Capital is an honour.”
He used to be positioned in a squad that lived in the Capital, a squad known for being pompous, a squad filled with members of the big five families, of which Doyoung is one. You sometimes wonder if he misses it, if being forced to come join Johnny’s squad felt like a punishment to him.
“What did you say?” Jungwoo presses.
“I told the King I would consider it,” you sigh. “And I’ll think about it for a few days.”
“What’s keeping you here?” Yuta asks. “I know it’s not the great company.” The vice-captain smirks; he’s always been one to relish in your floundering squad, but he’s also been the one person to push you all to be better every single day. As much as his training techniques have been… controversial, they’ve worked, and you know you’ve improved a great deal under his unique guidance.
“I like it here, contrary to what some of you may think,” you say, letting out a giggle.
You notice Johnny leaving the room, and after a bit more discussion with your squad mates, you also excuse yourself, intent on following your Captain and talking with him about the situation one-on-one.
You find his door ajar, and butterflies erupt in your stomach at the fact that your Captain has anticipated your intentions again.
Sure, there’s still some residual awkwardness from the last time you were alone with him in his room, but you push through that, knowing that this will be an extremely important conversation that will dictate the trajectory of your future.
“Captain?” you call as you enter his room, only to find him sitting on his couch with the beautiful cosmos swirling overhead.
But it’s not just your solar system today; it’s far larger than that, a universe, perhaps an insight into how deeply your Captain is also considering the bigger picture today.
“You should do it,” Johnny sighs as you close the door behind you.
“Pardon?” you ask.
“You should take up the King on his offer,” Johnny repeats, but he won’t meet your gaze, and his aura swirls with conflicting emotions that you can’t decipher.
“Should I?”
“Yes.” Johnny grabs his bottle of whiskey, taking a sip as you sit down across from him.
“Do you want to get rid of me so bad?” you frown.
Your Captain is silent for a moment. “I think… I think you’d do better in the Capital. There are more opportunities there.”
“There are opportunities here, too, Captain,” you counter.
Johnny meets your gaze, and you notice the way a muscle in his jaw feathers.
“The King is interested in you,” Johnny says flatly. “He wants you close, and the Capital would benefit from having you there.”
You take in what he’s saying.
The King? Interested in you?
“And by the word interested…” You trail off.
“I don’t mean he’s just curious about your magic abilities,” Johnny sighs. “He’d be a good match for you. The two of you would work well together.”
Your insides feel tight as you stare at your Captain. “I have no interest in marrying a King,” you say finally.
“And I don’t want you to throw away an opportunity like this over a fantasy,” Johnny fires back.
Your words are caught in your throat, and you note the colours of his aura becoming even more entangled and confusing.
“A fantasy?” you ask quietly.
“Yes. Whatever you think you see in me… It’s not real. I’m too old for you”
“Oh, but a King two years younger than you would be a perfect match,” you say, your sarcasm pushing through and breaking your usual protocol of being respectful to your superiors. “Because you’re what? An old man? And he’s a… young bull, as they say?”
Johnny’s gaze narrows, and his grip tightens on the bottle of alcohol. “I’m also a drunk.”
“You’re not a drunk,” you insist. “You’re a tortured soul with a vice, I won’t ostracise you for that. And besides, I’ve never seen you inebriated.”
“That just means I can hold my liquor, which isn’t something I wear as a badge of honour, little bird.”
Your heart races at the pet name, and you lean forward, capturing his gaze. “Tell me you want me to leave, Captain.”
His lips form a tight line, and he looks away. “I can’t do that.”
You muster up all of your courage and stand, joining him on his couch. Johnny slinks away, and it’s so odd to see this larger-than-life man, with a deadly reputation, shy in the face of a woman years his junior.
“I’m in love with you, Captain,” you tell him. “And I have been for a very long time.”
“Not possible.”
“During the war,” you insist. “You saved the Capital, you saved everyone, you saved me. I knew that day, watching you from my room as you flew across the city… I knew you’d be the only man for me.”
“It’s a schoolgirl crush, you were what? Fifteen? Fourteen?”
Your skin heats at his words, but you push through the embarrassment. “I’m a woman now, and I feel that this is fate more than any other direction my light magic has ever taken me. These past few weeks… It’s been like touching fire, a fire that has warmed me for over five years, a fire that has kept me going, kept me passionate and driven to blaze as you do.”
You reach out, cupping his cheek, forcing Johnny to look at you.
“Captain. I’m not a little girl. I understand you, I can read your aura, and I know the pain you hold, the fear, the anger. I accept you for all of it, and I know that deep down, you’re one of the greatest men I’ve ever met. You’re just hurting right now, but there’s no need to degrade yourself the way you do.”
“I’m not degrading myself,” Johnny insists, pulling away from your hand.
“Sure you’re not, old man.”
“That’s Sir to you, little bird,” he snaps.
“I thought it was specifically not Sir, Sir,” you tease, seeing his resolve falling away.
Johnny takes a deep breath. “Don’t throw your life away for someone like me.”
“Don’t forget who you truly are, just because you’ve been carrying pain,” you counter, looking into his eyes and willing him to actually hear you, to understand the full meaning of your words.
There’s a tense moment, and the air feels thick. You can hardly breathe as you stay frozen, staring at this man whom you’ve adored for so many years, this man whom you’ve looked up to.
Johnny searches your eyes, and his aura slowly turns more pink, so much so that you’re not even surprised when he folds. He grabs the back of your neck, drawing your lips to his in an immediately heated kiss that sets your entire body on fire.
A whimper escapes you, your entire body tingling. His lips taste like smoke, whiskey and desperation, and you could never have imagined it would be such a pleasing combination. His hand is warm where he holds the back of your neck, and you reach forward to grab his shoulder.
Sitting next to each other on a couch like this and kissing isn’t the most rewarding position, and you find yourself adjusting, using Johnny as leverage as you swing your leg over his lap. Your Captain groans, his hands moving to your hips to help guide you down on him.
This new position has you higher than Johnny, straddling his lap and angling your lips down against his own. The skirt you're wearing is doing little to create distance between you and him, and it feels amazing. There’s power in being on top of a man, and you get the sense that Johnny isn’t used to being anything other than the top. He’s still the dominant person; that much is clear to you by the way his hands hold your hips firmly in place, not allowing you to grind down on him just yet.
He pulls away from you, looking up into your eyes. “Have you ever done this before, little bird?”
You swallow the lump in your throat, still trying to collect yourself after such a heated kiss. “Yes, Sir, just once.”
“Just once,” Johnny repeats, letting out a groan. He tilts his head back against the backrest of the couch, releasing a deep sigh.
“Does my inexperience scare you, Sir?” you ask.
He looks up at you. “I’m not the one who should be scared.”
“Except that it’s clear you are,” you muse, stroking his cheekbone.
“I just…” Johnny lets out another deep breath. “I don’t want to ruin your life. I don’t want you to stay here just because of me.”
“That’s not your choice to make.”
He stares at you for a few seconds. “I guess not.”
“I know you like me. You care for me. You care for all of us, but you keep holding yourself back. You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.”
Your words hang thick in the air, and you can see the emotions swirling behind Johnny’s eyes. All the heartbreak, anger and loneliness, the fear of getting too close to people, the fear of loss.
“Where did you even come from, little bird?” Johnny asks with a dry chuckle.
“I’ve been here the whole time, Sir.”
Your Captain swallows thickly, his thumbs drawing circles against your hips. “I’ve been told healing magic doesn’t work on the soul, but this light magic of yours… It’s something else.”
“All I’ve ever wanted was to see you happy.”
“I’m not sure I deserve it.”
You cup his cheek. “Then I’ll prove that you do.”
He leans forward, bestowing a gentle kiss to your lips. You cup his cheek, pressing your chest against his own, opening your mouth a little to allow your Captain in.
His tongue caresses yours, his fingers digging into your skin, betraying his need for you. Your body is tight with tension, and you begin to swivel your hips a little, your core aching with desperation.
Johnny groans, allowing you to grind down against him, and you can already feel him stiffening in his pants.
His grip on your hips is firm, and Johnny slows down your erratic movements, helping you drag yourself against him with more pressure, but the languidity of it teases you as your heart races in your chest.
One of his hands snakes down to your ass, slipping under your skirt. He squeezes your flesh and you gasp into the kiss, motions faltering as you enjoy the feeling of his large palm on your skin.
Johnny also releases a groan, opting to break the kiss in favour of looking up at you. His pupils are blown with lust, and the cosmic magic floating like lights above you casts colours against his skin. He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and it makes your insides twist into knots.
“Tell me what you want, Sir,” you urge, hating this stop-and-go style of foreplay that you’ve been engaging in. It’s as if he gives in, only to recollect himself and pull back, and it’s making you frustrated in a way you’ve never experienced.
Johnny takes a deep breath. “Want you to grind on my thigh in this tiny fucking skirt and make yourself cum before I touch you properly.”
Your body tingles, your core practically throbbing from his words.
“Yes, Sir,” you whisper, adjusting yourself on top of him. His hands on your hips help guide you, and you sink down onto one thigh, pressing against the fabric of his pants while you steady yourself by anchoring your palms on his shoulders. “I wasn’t aware you liked my skirts.”
“I wouldn’t say I like them,” Johnny counters, his grip on you urging you to begin grinding down against his flexed thigh.
“Oh?” you whimper.
“I can hardly look at you when you wear skirts. They’re a constant distraction.” His grip on your ass tightens, and you groan from how good it feels.
“I’m sorry, Sir, if you would have said something-”
“It’s not my place to tell you what you can and can’t wear,” Johnny counters.
“I like it when you tell me what to do,” you admit.
“I’ll keep that in mind, little bird.”
You grind harder against his thigh. The thin fabric of your panties is soaked, and each rub of your clit against him feels like its own kind of magic.
Leaning forward with your hands on his shoulders, you end up pressing your chest close to his face, and Johnny takes advantage of that. The tank top you’re wearing provides some boob access, and he begins to kiss the swell of your breasts.
You throw your head back, loving his attention.
“You look pretty riding my thigh like this, little bird,” Johnny muses.
Confidence surges through you, and you push your guard robe off, then reach for your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.
You’re now in a bra, a tiny skirt, and panties that are getting more and more ruined by the second.
Your Captain releases a groan, one of his hands moving from your ass to your breast. He massages you gently through the fabric keeping you from him, and your nipples are practically aching with need.
“Take my bra off,” you whisper. “Please, Sir.”
Johnny reaches behind you with one hand, unclasping your bra like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
He tosses it to the side, his eyes fanning over your bare chest while his lips part in appreciation.
“Please,” you whimper again, grinding harder on his thigh, your whole body tense and waiting for more worship from the man you idolize.
This time, Johnny doesn’t make you wait. He captures one of your nipples between his lips, sucking and licking it while you cry out. Your hands find his hair, keeping him pinned to your chest while you ride his thigh faster, your entire body flooded with intense pleasure.
One of Johnny’s hands is massaging your neglected breast, but the other is on your ass, and he manhandles you against his thigh, prompting you to drag harder against him.
Teeth graze your nipple and you whimper desperately, panting as your muscles tighten, a warning of your oncoming orgasm.
“I’m close, Captain,” you tell him, biting your lip and clenching your eyes shut, all of your focus turned to pleasure.
“Cum for me,” Johnny groans, pulling off your breast so he can look up at you. The hand on your breast moves to your hair, and he tugs your head backward, extending your throat so you can’t censor your moans.
The sounds that escape you fill the room lewdly, and each drag of your core against his thigh gets you closer and closer-
“You look so pretty like this, little bird, using your Captain’s thigh to get off,” Johnny growls deeply, and his words make you twitch. All of the sudden, your orgasm slams into you, and you cry out, desperately grabbing his shoulders.
Your motions falter, and he quickly grabs your hips, forcing you to continue riding his thigh while pleasure ravages your form, taking over your mind, body and soul.
“Just like that,” Johnny groans as you whimper, and he allows you to slow down a little.
Your entire body is twitching as your orgasm dies down, and you are finally allowed to come to a stop on his thigh. You’re panting, eyes still closed as you try to comprehend the intensity of the orgasm he’d just given you with his thigh alone.
“How are you feeling?” Johnny asks.
“Good, Sir,” you whimper, swallowing thickly.
Your Captain pinches your chin, and you force your eyes open to look at him.
He leans in, his lips ghosting over yours as he whispers, “Do you want more?”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
Johnny’s hands find your ass again, and he stands up with you straddling his side. It’s only a few strides to the bed, and he sets you gently onto the mattress.
You look up at your Captain while he straightens, his gaze assessing your form. “You really are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he sighs.
Your skin heats with pleasure and embarrassment. “Thank you, Captain.”
Johnny reaches for the nape of his neck, where he grabs a fistfull of his shirt, lifting it off in one motion.
Your breath catches as you look at his chest, unashamed to be gawking at him. He’s so well built, with strong muscles and numerous scars that scatter like lightning bolts across his beautiful skin. You wish you’d been a royal knight when the war had happened, wish you’d been on the front lines healing people so they wouldn’t be left with blemishes to remind them of such a difficult point in their lives.
You’ve only recently found out how unique your skill of full healing is. To be left without a scar after being touched by your healing magic is quite extraordinary, and you wonder if perhaps your magic would work on these old wounds as well, or if Johnny would even be open to that.
Your thoughts disappear as Johnny sinks to his knees at the edge of the bed. He grabs your foot, pulling you toward him. You think he’s about to pull off your skirt and underwear, but he doesn’t. He takes his time as he kisses up your thigh, and when he gets to your core, you feel his breath through your underwear.
Then he licks the fabric, his tongue pushing the wet material and making you twitch. Is he about to eat you through your panties?
You’re tense with anticipation, holding your breath to see what he does next.
He’s partially obscured by your skirt, and there’s something so dirty about the view of an older man with his face buried between your thighs while your school girl miniskirt hides the sinful acts he’s engaging in.
One of his hands adjusts, and he pulls your panties to the side, his tongue making direct contact with your pussy for the first time.
A shiver rushes through you, and your thighs instinctively go to close around him, but Johnny holds you open with one strong hand. He applies pressure on your thigh, forcing it up toward your abdomen, giving him more access to your core as he licks at you, teasing everywhere except your clit, which is pulsating with need already.
“Captain, please,” you whimper, grabbing at the bedding.
His nose brushes your clit and you shiver, a low groan escaping you.
Johnny smiles as he continues to eat you out, his fingers digging into your thigh as he holds it to your abdomen and chest.
Finally, Johnny sucks his lips around your sensitive bud, and all of your muscles tense with pleasure. He’s gentle at first, testing what you like and what you don’t like, but with each increase of pressure and suction, your cries become louder.
Your Captain reads your sounds, focusing entirely on your clit as he works you up again at record speed.
You can’t help but wiggle your hips, your eyes clenched shut as the pleasure becomes more and more intense. Johnny groans, and the vibration makes your legs twitch.
You can’t help but reach down, grabbing Johnny’s hair and fumbling with your skirt, anchoring his face while you try to ride him toward your high. He sucks on your clit even harder and a strangled moan escapes you as your orgasm slams into you.
Every muscle clenches then unclenches, your body throbbing desperately as the pleasure overtakes you. Johnny continues lapping and sucking at your pussy, lewdly groaning and squeezing your thigh, clearly enjoying the way you’re cumming on his tongue.
You’re not a virgin, but your last sexual experience hadn’t exactly been like this. The last man was also a young royal guard, both of you were new to this, and he hadn’t the faintest idea how to truly pleasure a woman.
You suppose this is what it’s like to be with a true man, with someone who cares more about your pleasure than his own.
You’ve heard most men can be rather selfish during sex, and you never imagined you’d be able to find someone like Johnny. Your pleasure is his pleasure, that much is obvious, and it sets your entire body ablaze.
As the sensitivity between your legs becomes too great to handle, you stop riding his tongue, and Johnny reads the cue, pulling away.
From under half opened lids, you watch Johnny lick his lips, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth. He’s breathing heavily, his eyes glazed over with a dark kind of lust that makes your insides twist into knots all over again.
“You even taste like sunshine,” he muses, standing up and looking down at you.
Your body twitches at his words, and you swallow thickly. Then, you reach down, pushing your skirt and panties off so you’re now fully naked for him.
The cosmic light swirls behind him, illuminating his form.
You may be a light user, always basked in solar energy, but he’s a cosmic man, and space can be very dark without the sun.
Johnny reaches for the waistband of his pants, and he undoes the buckle, keeping his eyes on you. As the fabric slowly drops, your eyes lock onto the biggest cock you could even imagine.
You didn’t realize cocks could be this big- not that you’ve seen many, but still. He’s huge, like the rest of him you suppose. You can feel your mouth begin to water, and you sit up, intent to suck him off, to pay back your Captain for the two orgasms he’s just given you.
“You don’t have to do that, little bird,” Johnny tells you.
“I want to, Sir,” you insist.
You can see Johnny warring with himself, and all it takes is a bat of your eyelashes for him to fold.
He watches you get onto your knees, and you carefully grab the base of his cock, leaning forward to lick the mushroom tip.
Johnny groans, instinctively reaching down and grabbing a fistful of your hair. He doesn’t apply any pressure, but his grip on you is reassuring, especially when you finally take him into your mouth and he tugs gently.
Another deep moan escapes Johnny’s lips, and you squeeze the length you can’t fit into your mouth. Since there’s no way you’ll be able to fully take his massive cock, you do your best to suck as hard as you can on what you’re able to reach.
You want to give your Captain the same pleasure he’s just given you.
Your cheeks hollow, and your saliva coated mouth makes it all too easy to go up and down on his cock, your tongue stroking anything you can reach. Soon, your spit is dripping down to your hand, and you’re able to twist and work his length as you suck on the tip.
“You’re good at this, little bird,” Johnny groans. “Never would have pictured a girl like you on your knees like this.”
You pull off of him, looking up into Johnny’s eyes. “Only for you, Captain.”
He licks his lips, and you like that both ‘Captain’ and ‘Sir’ are dominant pet names that clearly turn him on. You wonder how pent up he’s been about your use of these formal titles, but the thought quickly dissipates as you draw your mouth back to his cock.
You do your best to go as far onto him as you can, and his tip hits the back of your throat, making you choke. You can feel hot tears swelling along your waterline, and you look up at Johnny, resisting the urge to pull off of him.
“Fuck,” Johnny cusses, gently tugging your hair to pull you away. “Don’t do that.”
You swallow thickly, trying to catch your breath. “Don’t do what, Captain?”
“Don’t make yourself choke.”
“I thought men liked that sort of thing.”
“Some men do, but they’re sadists. I’m not like that. I don’t want you to hurt yourself for me.”
“Choking doesn’t hurt,” you insist.
Johnny’s thumb strokes your cheekbone, collecting the tear there. “Oh, really?”
You sigh. “Sorry, Captain, I just want to make you feel good.”
“You are making me feel good,” he assures you. “Come here.”
He grabs your hand, pulling you from your bent over position. Then Johnny leans down, pressing his lips against yours. His other hand reaches for your breast, massaging it and making you whimper.
“Lay back,” he instructs softly, and soon you’re flat on the bed as Johnny gets on top of you.
Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, your lips never separating. Your fingers thread through his soft hair, and Johnny groans, the hand on your breast tracing down your body. He makes contact with your pussy, gently rubbing your clit before dipping his fingertips inside of you.
You whimper, your pussy clenching around the two digits that slowly prod you open, pushing deeper inside of you and exploring your inner walls.
“Captain,” you whisper, tugging his hair.
The older man’s lips ghost over yours. “Call me Johnny.”
Your skin tingles. It’s clear he gets off on you calling him Sir and Captain, so by asking you to call him by his name, things become much more intimate.
He continues to finger fuck you, and you find your hips wiggling, looking for more stimulation. His palm presses firmly to your clit, and you whimper, clutching his shoulders.
“Think I want you to cum one more time like this,” Johnny muses.
Your muscles tense at his words, your body wanting to fulfill his wishes. As it is, your mind is fuzzy from two orgasms, and you think a third might just leave you brain dead, but your core throbs with desperation all the same.
His lips move to your throat, and your body tingles when he finds your sweet spot.
“You sound so pretty for me,” Johnny groans, finger fucking you harder, his knuckles dragging along your inner walls deliciously.
All you can do is gasp and whimper, letting him take you to the edge again.
“I’m cumming!” you cry out, your core clamping onto his fingers as waves of pleasure rush through you.
Your heart is racing in your chest, and you can feel a bead of sweat trickle down your throat to your clavicle.
Johnny works you through your high, and when it becomes too much, he pulls his fingers out of you. Your Captain sits up, licking his digits clean while he looks down at you, admiring your form as you try to collect yourself.
Then his hand goes to his massive cock, and he pumps it a few times, waiting until you’re writhing and ready before he lays over you again.
“Fuck me, please,” you whimper, dragging him into a breathtaking kiss.
Every touch feels like magic, every kiss leaves you dizzy, and as he lines his cock up with your wet hole, you’re sure you’ve found your own little slice of Heaven.
“Let me know if it hurts,” Johnny warns as he slowly pushes his tip inside of your core.
You let out a strangled gasp at the stretch, digging your nails into his shoulders, but you remind yourself to breathe, to relax and open up for him.
He goes slow, allowing you to fully adjust as he pushes inch after inch inside of you.
When his hips press against your own, cock fully sheathed in your core, you both groan. His lips find yours, and you cup his cheek, loving the feeling of being so completely full.
He begins to move, slowly rocking into you, and the drag of his cock against your walls takes your breath away.
The sounds he’s making make you even wetter, and the lubrication helps his length glide easily in and out of you. His pace increases slowly, and as it gets faster, your toes begin to curl.
The tip of his cock is hitting deep spots inside of you, and it feels even deeper when his hand lifts your thigh higher on his hip.
“So deep,” you whimper against his lips.
Johnny smirks. “Let’s make it deeper.”
In one motion, he flips you so now you’re on top, and you sink down on his cock, moaning at the feeling.
Your hands find his chest as you just sit for a moment, reveling in being on top and being stuffed to the brim. “You look good like this,” Johnny muses.
“Yeah?” You suddenly feel shy, and you rock your hips gently.
Johnny doesn't respond, his hands find your hips and he helps you increase your pace. Each drag puts stimulation on your clit, and you throw your head back, groaning.
When you lift yourself up slightly, Johnny thrusts to meet you, and a squeal escapes you.
He grins, his grip on your hips tightening so he can manhandle you into the exact spots he wants as he fucks up into you, his pace increasing.
Even when you’re on top, Johnny is in control, and it’s a freeing feeling.
You just have to enjoy this, and as your hand snakes down to your clit, you decide you want to cum one last time.
Your core tightens around his cock as you begin to rub your sensitive bud, and Johnny moans loudly. He’s panting as he looks up at you, his gaze shifting between your face, bouncing breasts and where you’re touching yourself.
“Fucking perfect,” he muses, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.
You look down at him, enjoying your own spectacle. You love the way his muscles ripple under his skin, his biceps bulging as he lifts you up and down on his cock, his abdomen clenching deliciously.
You can feel your own body beginning to tense up, warning of another orgasm that is so close you can already taste it.
“Johnny,” you whimper.
“You close again, little bird?” he asks.
“Uh huh.”
“Let go for me,” your Captain insists. “Want to feel you cumming on my cock.”
You nod, closing your eyes and focusing on the building feeling. You rub your clit even harder, and soon, you’re toppling over the edge with a gasp.
Your pussy clamps down on Johnny, and he sits up abruptly, burying his face in your chest and holding you firmly against him, his cock buried as deep as possible as your walls throb around him.
You cry out, throwing your arms around him and whining, pleasure flooding through you while you’re stretched to your absolute limit.
He kisses your skin, sucking your nipple into his mouth and making you gasp even louder.
Nothing has ever felt this good.
Soon, you begin to shake, the stimulation becoming too much, and the next moment, Johnny has you on your back again.
“I’m close,” he warns you.
You’re so delirious from your orgasm that you can’t even speak, you can only whimper and make soft sounds, drawing his lips to yours as he begins to plow into you.
Your inner walls are exhausted, your body feels like jelly from all your orgasms, but you’re determined to make him cum.
And soon, your Captain is panting, groaning against your lips.
One final thrust and you feel his cock throbbing, his cum coating your insides as you hold him close, kissing him desperately. You open your eyes and see the universe swirling behind him, and his aura is a pinkish colour that makes you shiver.
He can’t hide his feelings from someone like you, someone who reads emotion in the air, and it’s clear that your Captain is as enthralled by you as you are with him.
This just feels so right, and as Johnny comes down from his high, he holds you close.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Really good, Captain.”
Johnny laughs. “Again with calling me Captain.”
“Calling you by your name would be insubordination.”
“Okay, Princess,” he scoffs. “I should get you washed up.”
You let him carry you from the bed to his ensuite bathroom, where you find he has his own large hot tub like bath. You’d heard this hideout had a hot spring style Onsen but you hadn’t really believed it.
He sets you into the warm water, joining you and pulling you to his chest again.
“So… about the whole apprentice in the Capital thing…” he trails off.
“I won’t accept.”
“I want you to accept it.”
“What?”
“On a part time basis,” Johnny corrects himself. “It’s a great opportunity.”
“Won’t you miss me, Captain?”
“You know I will, but I also won’t get in the way of an opportunity. We can manage without you, coordinate. But I think you could learn a lot there, and I know you like helping people.”
“I want to help you,” you insist, cupping his cheek.
“You already have, in more ways than I can count.” Johnny presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Just think about it.”
“Okay,” you agree.
“And little bird?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“I hope I overdelivered on your school girl crush.”
“Stop it!” you giggle, embarrassment flooding through you.
Johnny only grins, pulling you closer.
This may have started with a school girl style fantasy, but it’s clear that it has progressed much far beyond that, and you’re excited to see where your future takes you.
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I think I'll definitely do a SVT spin off for this.
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🔮 preview. Unlike in the hideout, where Johnny has an entire wing practically to himself to be loud in, you’re in a student’s quarters, with neighbours in rooms on either side of you. You’d gotten one noise complaint your first week here, but never again, because you take the measures of shutting yourself up. Johnny always finds it funny when you try to muffle your sounds, and when you cover your own mouth, you think he goes even harder to earn moans and whimpers from you. Johnny’s not about to get in trouble for noise, and to be fair, you’d never be kicked out of your position because of a few noise complaints, but still… Johnny may be a rugged Captain who does what he wants, but you’re still a well-behaved apprentice girl, and you’ll be damned if Johnny makes you throw away your morals.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, breeding kink, power dynamics, sir/captain kink, daddy kink, fingering, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, dirty talk, praise, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, oral (blow job), multiple sex positions, body worship, hair pulling, grinding, trying to muffle sex sounds, etc… I petnames. (hers) little bird, baby. (his) Captain, Sir.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 95
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
bonus
Things have been very different since Johnny allowed you to come into his life. He’s happier now, more present with the squad, and even those without aura-reading abilities can see the massive shift in his countenance.
The two of you have decided to keep your relationship a secret, but you’re pretty sure that many can see through you.
King Jaehyun had accepted your request for a part-time role in the Capital, and you know that your Captain’s frequent visits when you’re away from the squad don’t go unnoticed by those who surround you.
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Summary: Changbin has been your friend for only a short period of time when he changed your life forever.
By the time Changbin realised he was in love with you, he could already predict your order at the tiny café around the corner, the route you took to your evening shift, and the way you always smiled before saying you were “doing just fine,” even when it was obvious you were exhausted.
You worked everywhere.
In the mornings, you delivered takeaway orders on a battered scooter that rattled every time you hit a pothole. In the afternoons, you helped in a flower shop. Three nights a week, you waited tables until nearly midnight, your feet aching and your eyes tired.
Whenever he asked why you pushed yourself so hard, you brushed it off.
“I’ve got bills.”
Only later did he discover the truth.
Not bills.
Debt.
Years of it.
An old family obligation, unexpected medical expenses, and interest that seemed to grow faster than you could earn. Every extra shift barely made a dent.
The knowledge haunted him.
He watched you fall asleep on the bus one evening, still wearing your delivery jacket. Another time, he found you counting coins behind the café before putting half of them back into your purse because you couldn’t justify buying yourself lunch.
It hurt to see.
And because it hurt, he did something impulsive.
He paid it all.
Every last won.
He made certain it was done legally and anonymously, asking a lawyer to settle the outstanding balance without revealing his identity.
For one glorious day, he imagined your relief.
Then his phone rang.
“You.”
Your voice was sharp.
“Open the door.”
When Changbin did, you were standing in the hallway, breathing hard, clutching a stack of documents.
“You paid it.”
He didn’t deny it, there was no point.
“I did.”
“Why?”
He searched for the right words.
“Because I didn’t want you carrying it anymore.”
Your expression twisted between disbelief and anger.
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
“You think because you have money you can solve everything?”
“No.”
“You think you can buy my gratitude? Buy my life?”
His face fell immediately.
“Never.”
But you were too overwhelmed to hear him. Your eyes shimmered with frustrated tears.
“Do you think you can buy me with money?”
The question echoed through the apartment, Changbin stepped back as if the words had physically struck him.
“I don’t want to buy you.”
“Then what do you want?”
“You. I care about you, I didn’t pay your debt expecting anything. I didn’t do it so you’d date me. I did it because watching you destroy yourself trying to survive was unbearable.”
You stared at him, then shook your head.
“This changes everything.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
“It does for me.”
You turned and walked away before he could say another word. The sound of the closing lift doors lingered long after you were gone.
The next few days were empty.
No messages.
No chance meetings.
No shared coffee before your shifts.
Changbin wondered whether he had ruined the one friendship that mattered most to him. Then, one rainy afternoon, his intercom buzzed.
When he opened the door, you stood there again.
This time you looked calmer.
Embarrassed, perhaps.
In your hands was a tiny cream-coloured envelope.
“I came to make my first payment.”
He frowned.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I do.”
You held the envelope out stubbornly.
“It’s not much.”
Inside were neatly folded banknotes and a handwritten receipt listing the amount.
“It took me almost a week to save this,” you admitted.
Changbin looked from the envelope to your face.
“You really intend to pay me back?”
“Every cent.”
“It could take years.”
“Then it takes years.”
He sighed, half amused and half heartbroken.
“You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
“So I’ve been told.”
For the first time since the argument, both of you smiled.
He invited you in for tea.
You accepted.
The apartment was quiet except for the sound of rain tapping against the windows. The envelope remained untouched on the coffee table between you.
Eventually, you broke the silence.
“I was angry.”
“I noticed.”
“I wasn’t angry because you helped.” He looked up. “I was angry because I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“That accepting your help meant I had to give up part of myself.” He listened without interrupting. “I’ve spent so long trying to survive on my own that when someone offered kindness, I didn’t know what to do with it.”
Changbin nodded.
“I never wanted you to feel trapped.”
“I know that now.”
You glanced at the envelope.
“I kept replaying what you said.”
“‘I want you’?”
You nodded.
“It scared me because I realised I wanted you too.”
His eyes widened.
“But I needed to know those feelings had nothing to do with money.”
“They don’t.”
“And I needed you to know mine don’t either.”
You laughed softly through a sudden wave of emotion.
“I liked you when all I thought you could offer was coffee and bad jokes.”
“They’re excellent jokes.”
“They’re terrible.”
“I’ll work on them.”
He slid the envelope back across the table.
“I’m not taking this.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
“I insist.”
“So do I.”
You folded your arms.
“This is becoming a battle of principles.”
“It is.”
Another silence passed before Changbin reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out an empty glass jar.
He placed the envelope inside.
“What are you doing?”
“If paying me back helps you keep your pride, then we’ll keep every payment right here.”
You watched him curiously.
“And when the jar is full?”
“We’ll use it.”
“For what?”
“For something that belongs to both of us. A trip. A future project. Whatever we decide together.”
“So you’re not collecting a debt.”
“I’m collecting reasons for us to keep meeting.”
You stood, walked over to him, and after a moment’s hesitation, wrapped your arms around him.
It was simply honest.
“I can’t promise I’ll stop trying to repay you,” you murmured.
“I know.”
“I can’t promise I won’t argue with you again.”
“I know.”
“And I can’t promise I won’t be fiercely independent for the rest of my life.”
Changbin smiled into your hair.
“I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
For the first time in years, the weight on your shoulders felt lighter.
Not because someone had erased your debt.
But because someone had looked at every struggle, every late shift, every stubborn refusal to give up, and decided that you were worth loving exactly as you were.
a/n: Hiiii Yunho baseball pics inspired me. I love a friend with benefits story. I hope you enjoy! Please checkout my masterlist and as always, thank you for reading my stuff and sharing and showing support i appreciate you all 🫶🏻
Synopsis: Yunho makes a bet that he and you can go no contact, and loses. :)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, its smut, slight choking, a lot of banter, nothing too crazy. Please lmk if i should add anything.
Word count: 4,606
——
Yunho was the first to crack.
“this was a stupid fucking bet. roommates gone for the weekend. you down to chill?”
“You owe me $20 dollars.” You typed back to Yunho. “I’m down.”
He hearts the message and you get ready to go see him. A shower, a shave, some good smelling body lotion, a pair of soft shorts, something easy to get out of and into. You brush your teeth and put on some light makeup just to make you feel better. You top it off with your favorite perfume throwing it into your emergency sleepover bag before sending the “Omw” text.
It had been 2 weeks since you last fucked jeong yunho. To say it’s been easy would be a lie, but you look forward to lying to his face when you saw him. Of course you saw him in class, around your usual times at the library, and around campus. He just dyed his hair blonde and he’s been tall since you met him, so he’s hard to miss. Yet, you played it cool. Offered him nothing more than a smile and a nod on the occasion. It was part of the rules to the little bet the two of you made.
——
“No contact, whoever can go the longest without contacting the other, wins 10 dollars per week.” He shrugged, casually. Like he already won. The two of you stood in the doorway of his apartment he towered over you, his arms folded. You mimicked his stance with an amused grin on your face. The two of you just finished studying, kind of. In between that you kissed and let him finger you until you couldn’t speak coherently and returned the favor by giving him a blowjob that made him question his own faith.
“Dude, you’ll never see me again.” You laugh, “I’m the master of detachment.”
“We can cap it on week 5 just in time for midterms… if you want. But one of us can win 50 bucks.”
“All this because you caught feelings?” You tease.
“No!” He snaps quickly, “I told you, seeing you is distracting…”
You roll your eyes, “Don’t blame me for your slipping grades, you take shitty notes.” You retort and he groans, big hand curling into his hair and tugging on it.
“Are you in or not?” he asks and you put your hand out to shake his. He takes your hand and you sigh, your eyes staying on his. In a way it looked like he was pleading with you. You nodded.
“Then you don’t get to study with me.” You shrug, “Let’s really not see each other except for in class. Even then I don’t want to talk to you.” He wanted space you’d give it to him.
“Wait no?” He furrows his brow, tilting to the side like a confused puppy.
“No. You want to lose your distraction.” You raise your eyebrows before turning to leave. “I know Ruby is going to love having you as a new study buddy.” You taunt, starting to walk toward your car.
“Wait, maybe we can do it another way!” He calls as you giggle again.
“Bye Yunho, Good luck.” You sing before getting in your car.
———
That was the last time you talked to him. It wasn’t easy. You had to have your phone confiscated when you got drunk. You had to take care of yourself when you needed to release any tension. Most of all, studying with other friends didn’t exactly hit the same way it did with Yunho.
You knocked on his apartment door. You wondered if the way your stomach fluttered and the way you got anxious would last forever, every time you’d see him. You put your hand out, palm up, as he swings the door open, immediately laughing at you. You tapped your palm, “20 dollars.” You raised your eyebrows, “Let me have it.” He sighed, nodding for you to come in and you move past him to enter his familiar apartment. Not much has changed, the decor was still minimal like two men lived there, because they did. Yunho moved past you to sit on one of his couches, on the tv a baseball game played quietly, his bright red jersey and backwards hat made sense. “Who’s winning?”
“Not them.” He groans, plopping into the soft cushions and spreading out, his eyes stuck on you as you sat opposite of him, a couch away.
“It’s them when they lose, and it’s us when they win.” You tease and he rolls his eyes again but chuckles at that, “Did you dye your hair thinking I’d break and ask you about it.”
He lets out a short laugh, and you watch as he cracks his knuckles, “Nah, I know you hate blondes. I was helping you.”
You laugh, “Right.” You smirk, “It actually looks really good on you.”
“Wow, a compliment!” He fake gasps, you toss a couch pillow at him and he laughs.
“Where’s my money, Jeong?” You ask.
“It’s like you’re only here for that!” He mocks offense, his tongue digging into his cheek as he laughs and stands up, “My wallet’s in my room… I want to show you something anyway.” He nods for you to follow and you do. His rooms not far down a short hallway to the left, you follow as he flicks on a switch to illuminate the room in a soft warm light. You immediately see what you hoped was the surprise, sitting on his dresser is a small square tank. It was a little orange goldfish.
“Oh my god who is this?” You run over waving at the little fish, “You were so bored without me you had to buy a pet.”
“I saved him from that stupid frat party last week.”
“Saved or stole?” You glare back at him, and find he’s digging through his wallet. He pulls out two bills before tossing it on the bedside table with a loud thump.
“Someone left him in a cup, I wasn’t going to let him suffer. He deserves better.” Yunho walks closer to you, “Here.” He mumbles, defeated.
“Thank you!” You giggled, yanking the cash from his hands, “Was missing me worth $20 dollars?” You ask, “Or did you finally let Ruby into those gray sweats?”
He scoffs, “No! But you and Jongho looked pretty close over the past week. Was he keeping you busy?”
You raise your eyebrows giggling, “I’m sensing… jealousy…”
“No!” He snaps, “You seem jealous of me studying with Ruby.”
You gasp, “So, you HAVE been studying with Ruby!?”
“Just like once last week but it was so boring. I fell asleep.” he admits.
You pout up at him, “Aww she was boring?” You smirk, “Too vanilla for you?”
He lets out a laugh, “We just studied!”
“Am I here to study?” You smirked, realizing how close the two of you got in the last few minutes. Your head is now craning to look up at him.
“No.” He says, quieter now.
“So why am I here?” You smirk, the question is more of an accusation than a question. He squints his eyes as he stares down at you, you watch as his tongue wet his lips. Your eyes are drawn down to them briefly, before you look back up at his eyes. You wait for any retort, any rebuttal, or even another laugh. His eyes move down to your lips, the silence stretching both of you daring the other to make the move. “Hm?” You push.
“Because I didn’t like seeing you that close to him.” He says, his voice low and serious. Your eyes search for the joke, the amusement in his eyes. You don’t find it. You weren’t expecting that answer, and you feel your heart starting to race. You swallow back a lump in your throat. You try not to falter at the feelings that arose with his words, feelings you tried to push back.
“We’re just friends.” It comes out more weak than you had hoped. The words are soft.
“I don’t care.” He shrugs, “I see the way he looks at you. Like you’re not—“
You wait for him to finish the sentence, create distance, anything, but he doesn’t. He leans in closer, his nose brushing yours as your breath catches. His hand comes up, and you blink at him as he cradles your chin in his fingers. He presses his lips to yours before you can ask what he wants to say. You press onto your tip toes to kiss him back, your hands running up his chest as his hand moves up to cradle your cheek. His other hand moves to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you against him as his tongue slips into your mouth. A small sound escapes you, and he pulls you back with him toward his bed. You hated how much you missed the taste of him. He always tasted like something sweet, and that hadn’t changed. When you feel the bed on the back of your calves you drop down to sit, pulling away from
him. Both of your breathing is unsteady. Your hands moved down his chest and over the red fabric of his jersey, down to the familiar gray sweats he wore. Your fingers gently brush under the jersey and white t-shirt he wore under it, his skin warm as you curled your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. Your eyes stay glued on his as you slowly start to pull them down.
“Ruby didn’t get this, did she?” You ask as his erection springs free, heavy and leaking and ready for you. You wrap your hand around him, and he hisses as you gently stroke his shaft. He shakes his head. You drop onto your knees and look up at him. Your lips press into the tip of him, your tongue sweeping out to lick up some of the precum.
“Fuck…” He breathes, “No.” You smirk up at him, your lips dropping to the bottom of his shaft. You trail kisses up his shaft and let your tongue sweep against the vein that ran under his cock. Slowly you offer just kisses and short laps from your tongue. You know he’s growing impatient, needy. When you're back at his tip again, you wrap your lips around him. You suck just the head of his cock, a quiet hum leaving you before you swirl your tongue around and pull back. Your heart jumps as you watch his jaw clench from above you, his eyes growing darker as he reaches for your hair. His fingers thread through and firmly grasp it, “Did Jongho get to have your pretty mouth?”
“No.” You breathe, “This mouth is for you.” You know what it does to him and he almost loses it then. A desperate sound escapes him as he clenches his hand in your hair. He pushes you forward, your jaw falling open, like instinct. You take him into your mouth and moan around him, the vibration making him whine. His mouth falls open with a gasp as you let him push further into your mouth, reaching your throat with a gurgled sound from you.
“Good.” He hums, his breathing faltering as you hollow out your cheeks and sucked. “God, you feel so good. My hand does not comp—“ You push further, taking him back into your throat until you gag but you hold there. “Fuck.” He rasps. His brows furrowed, his bottom lip trembled. You bob your head without him moving you. His hand in your hair now is just there for support. You figured you’d show him exactly what he’d been missing and let your throat flex around him. You moan and use his thighs to hold you steady. You start to feel lightheaded but it feels good. You bob your head and focus on breathing through your nose. You relish seeing him like this. His other hand curling into his hair, tugging on his hair and scraping his scalp as his eyes clench shut. His breathing heavy and an involuntary moan punches from his throat.
“I- I’m like really… ahh…” You start to pull off him, his cock twitching in your mouth. You’re impressed at the time you’re making, this was faster than he’s ever fallen before. You pull off with a pop, watching him tremble.
“You really haven’t been with anyone else.” You smirk. He nods, breathes heavily, swallowing hard as he tries to ground himself. His grip in your hair tightening. You take it as a challenge and quickly wrap your mouth around him again and take him back bobbing your head as he lets out a shaky moan, his cock twitching again. Your throat constricts around him and you let your saliva pool and spill around your lips as you let out a muffled moan around him. The moan adds vibration and he loses it completely. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. He unravels with a shaky gasping whimper, your hands holding onto his thighs to steady him and yourself as you continue sucking and swallowing his warm release.
He pulls you off him before you continue sucking the soul out of him, a smirk on your face as he trembles.
“Fuck.” He breathes, “That’s actually so em…“ You cut him off pulling him back down and into you for a kiss. You pull him back with you onto his bed. You crawl back until you reach his pillows. He really hadn’t been with anyone else. You kiss him harder, pulling him against you, his hands dipping between the two of you. You make room, spread your legs, your center pulsing and throbbing, waiting. He cups your heat through your shorts and you mewl into his mouth as he presses his hand firmly against your center. Your hips chase the feeling of him, bucking toward his hand as he pulls away from kissing you.
“So wet for me.” He breathes and reaches for your shorts, fingers curling into the waistband, pulling them down with your underwear. He moves back toward you, his lips kissing yours as he hand glides up your thigh and between them. His fingers find your soaked center, and he gasps at the feeling of how wet you are. “He didn’t get to have this, did he?” He hums against your lips, as you whimper again. His fingers dip into you, but not nearly deep enough as you gasp and reach for his wrist. “Answer.”
“No…” You breathe as his fingers simply glide through your arousal, his fingertips grazing your sensitive clit and running back down to your entrance. “He tried…” You whine, as he sinks one finger into you, knuckle deep his lips kissing your chin as you start to breathe heavily. “Yunho…” his eyes flash up at you.
“He… He tried?” He swallows, his eyes locking into yours, his eyebrows high. He looks pissed but you don’t lie, you nod, and Yunho adds another finger, making you arch beneath him. You moan as he slowly pumps his fingers, the more he moves the more you can hear how wet you are. You let out a breathy moan as he presses his forehead to yours. The closeness of him makes you weak. You're unable to look away from his eyes. His lips ghost over yours like he’s dangling a treat in front of you. You try to kiss him but he pulls back playfully. He bites his bottom lip as he curls his fingers, making you moan against his mouth, and finally he kisses you again. It’s sloppy and possessive, your tongue lapping against his as he pulls another breathy moan from you. He pulls back again, not far, his nose nudges yours, his eyes on you. “He had his chance and he’ll never get it again.” He breathes and his words draw another sound from you. Your hips bucking toward his fingers, his lips curling into a devastating grin. His fingers curl more, and easily find that spot deep inside of you. Your head falls back, your chest heaving as he coaxes more arousal out of you, his eyes dipping low to watch his fingers disappear inside of you only to reappear soaked in your juices, it makes him groan his cock already hard again.
You become greedy. You need more. “Yunho, I need you… please.”
“Two weeks without you…” He breathes, slowly pulling his fingers from you. “You have no idea how many times I thought of you. How much I dreamed about hearing those pretty sounds leave your throat for me…” you whimper as he starts to take off his jersey, button by button as he stares down at you. You’re breathing heavily and watching as he gets the jersey off followed by the white tee underneath. You reach for him, his soft skin under your palms as he leans back down to kiss you. His familiar cross necklace dangling against your chest as you spread your legs and make more room for him between your thighs. Your fingers curl into his now blonde hair and you feel how hard he is again, the weight of it against your lower stomach. You clench around nothing, a sound of desperation leaving you as his lips move down your neck. He stays there, leaving marks, his tongue and teeth making you curse and sigh as you continue to ache for him.
“Please…” You whine again, begging at this point. He laughs his mouth still against your skin as he reaches down to line himself up with you. You brace yourself, wait for him to finally give you what you want and he obliges slowly. His own breath catching as he slowly sinks into you, both of you let out a gasp as he rolls his hips into you.
“Fuck I missed you.” He groans breathy and raspy, against your mouth as you wrap your legs around his hips. His forehead presses into yours as he trembles, his lips moving against yours as he lets you both adjust. Your walls clench around him, your body begging for more as your fingers and nails trail down his shoulders, “Did you miss me too?” It comes out less confident than expected of him. Usually you’d come back with a snarky remark, tease him a little, but the vulnerability of his tone makes your chest swell. The pull of his cock slipping away before he rolls back into you takes your breath away, any words falling from your tongue and turning into a moan. “Tell me. Tell me you missed me.” He breathes. “Please.”
“I missed you.” You groan as he rolls his hips again, setting a devastating steady pace. Each stroke is deep and pulls a sound out of you, “I missed you so fucking much.” You moan, and he thrusts even harder, jolting you back, his own sounds deep and raspy as he moves to pin your hands above your head. Youre soaking his cock, your body reacting to him exactly how it always did. You may have toys, but nothing feels as good as Yunho. Nothing is comparable to the way he presses his full body weight onto you, and pins you down to have his way. Nothing feels the way his heavy cock feels dragging against your walls, every thrust reaching that spot deep inside of you, making your head fuzzy. Every other man on the planet was ruined, because it was Yunho who knew how to ruin you.
“You feel so good.” He hums, you clench around him, your body responding where your words can’t catch up. “That’s right, that’s my fucking girl.” He growls his hands releasing your wrists, his fingers intertwining with yours. His necklace dangles into your face with every sharp movement and your eyes roll until they shut completely. You start to unravel beneath him. Your voice sounds more like crying as you feel your orgasm starting to spill over. He can feel it too, and he shifts his movements, somehow thrusting deeper, snapping his hips into you harder. Your legs start to shake, your toes curling as your head falls back.
“Yunho!” You cry out his name, like it’s the only word you know. Your fingers clenching around his fingers, your thighs clenching together though Yunho’s body is between them. Your whole body tenses and shakes all at once as you cum hard and fast. It pushes Yunho over, your pussy pulsating around him as he slams his hips into you. He growls and moans and his head falls into the crook of your neck. He’s trembling again and you feel him release deep inside of you, your legs still shaking as he rolls his hips slowly, riding out his high. You gasp and pant and try coming back to earth though you both tremble from aftershocks. You both breath heavily, when his hips finally stop moving he takes a few minutes, peppers you with kisses, and then pulls from. You whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness. You know Yunho, he’s not done with you yet. His appetite is relentless, especially when it comes to you.
You don’t have to do much, Yunho turns you over and you giggle and sigh as he moves your hair from your neck, and positions your leg so your knee is raised and pressed against the bed. You hold onto his pillow and he easily slips back into you, from behind. Both of you let out a strangled moan, your body arching, Yunho’s already at a devastating angle. He presses forward and leans down so his lips find the back of your neck. You moan as he starts to slowly thrust into you. His other hand comes up and cups your chin with his palm as he moves with deep and slow rolls of his hips. You can’t speak or even think when he has you like this, your brain short circuits at the feeling of him completely enveloping you. His breath heavy on your neck as he bites back a moan, “You know how much torture it was having to see you walk around without me being able to touch you?” He moans, and you whimper in response, his hand moving down from your jaw to your throat. He holds steady there, not really squeezing as his pace starts to pick up. His teeth and tongue start to mark your skin where he can reach. “Do you know how often I daydream about having you like this?”
You grip his arm that’s holding your throat as he fucks you harder into the mattress. Your mouth goes slack and you start to drool onto the pillow beneath you. He pants and growls and curses into your ear. His voice raspy and desperate shoots right down to your center and you nearly cum just by the way he sounds. You don’t sound much different. Every thrust pulls a whimpering and whiny noise from you, your words turning into nonsense and babbling as your brain starts to melt into slime. Every wet snap of his hips takes you closer and closer to another orgasm and you couldn’t stop it if you wanted to. Everything was Yunho. You could feel him everywhere. Deep inside of you, holding you down, his breath on your neck and ear and cheek. His wet kisses trailing down your neck and shoulder, his teeth sinking into your warm skin and causing you to let out a raw feral moan. Something guttural and involuntary. You feel his other hand squeeze beneath your body, finding your clit to add to the sensation your hips jerking away from the sensitive touch but only finding his cock burying deeper inside of you.
“I got you.” He coos, “Let me take care of you. Don’t hold back.” You choke out a sob, his grip around your throat tightens just enough to make you hazy. You feel him starting to lose his own head, his thrusts becoming less concentrated and more eager. Sloppy and out of rhythm he pounds into you with his teeth starting to clench. That does it for you. It pushes you over the edge and you free fall into your orgasm with a loud cry, your body shaking again, your limbs weak as Yunho follows right behind you. His own body shudders and he presses into you completely. Your eyes clench so tight you see stars and you pant and grasp for him, needing something to bring you back to earth. He climbs off you and lays behind you, his hand lightly trailing down your back as you both struggle to catch your breath and stop trembling.
He rolls you over back toward him and kisses your forehead as you hold onto him, nuzzling against his chest as your heart rate finally starts to descend. He looks so beautiful like this, all fucked out, messy hair, a sheen on his skin, eyes still dilated glassy and big, staring at you. His lips puffy and chapped. His hand comes up to your face, his fingers tracing your features like he wants to make sure you’re real. Your body still feels the electricity, and you kiss his fingertips when they press against your lips. “I missed you.” He whispered. “I wasn’t just saying that.”
“I missed you too.” You sigh, “You’re the one that came up with that stupid fucking bet.” You playfully push at him.
“I know. But I’m an idiot. You’re the one that usually stops me and sets me straight.” He pouts.
“This is different.” You sit up, “I’m not begging anyone to want me. Or want to spend time with me.”
“You don’t have to beg.” He whines, “I want to hangout with you. All the time. I want to talk to you all the time. I want to kiss you all the time.” His words sound sincere but you’re skeptical, your eyes falling down to the space between you. “When I see something funny you’re the first person I want to tell.”
You giggle looking back up at him, squinting your eyes, “Did you just quote that Sex and the City episode I made you watch!?”
“Maybe…" He shrugs, “But it’s how I feel.”
“God, Yunho, keep talking like that and I might think you like me.” You muse.
“So, what if I do?” The words steal the air from your lungs, your eyes flashing up to him. You wait for the laugh, the joke to land, the other shoe to drop. You swallow back a growing lump in your throat. He just stares back at you, waiting for a response. Blinking, his bottom lip being brought into his mouth by his teeth. “I’m sorry… I…” His gaze drops, his confidence falters and it makes your chest hurt.
“No.” You reach out to him, “No, I’m sorry I thought I imagined that. So what are you going to do about it?” You ask, raising your brows.
He chuckles, springing toward you, like an excited little kid pinning you down beneath him, “You want to be my girlfriend!?”
“Ehhhh…” You tease and he pouts, both of you starting to giggle. He leans down and kisses your lips.
“We’re never spending two weeks apart again.” He smirks.
“It sounds like a threat.” You giggle, “You have a lot of time to make up for… Two weeks worth.”
“I know!” He sighs, “I’ll start tonight.” He smiles big before moving down your body, his head back between your legs. It pulls a laugh out of you, until his mouth finds your sensitive heat, that pulls a moan from you.
How would you feel about an older brother's best friend chan x reader fic with nasty sex where reader wants chan to "teach" her how to kiss, And how to make out, and how to suck dick and so on.... 👀👀👀 But obviously reader uses this teaching excuse because she's in love with chan
first for everything ft : bangchan
⚘( ၴႅၴ summary : you accidentally unveil your deepest secret in front of your crush and he decides to use it as a learning opportunity
cw : SMUT, piv, virgin!reader, experienced!chan, one slap and a kick but it’s nothing crazy, oral (m! receiving), sibling banter between reader and her brother
kitty talks : just to preface there’s nothing wrong w being a virgin yall i just needed to write it like that for the plot but there’s nothing wrong with waiting or just not wanting it in general!
wc : 4.1k
“seriously!? never?” chans voice carried throughout the room and you were quick to lean over the table and slightly slap his cheek to shut him up.
“god chan! not everyone needed to know!” you hissed at him, looking around, paranoid, trying to see if anyone had heard.
it was the first party your older brother had thrown that you were so kindly invited to. with the one condition; you had to be cool and not an idiot in front of his friends. you had evidently already failed that seeing as you had just let it slip that you were a virgin to his best friend.
chan was so sweet and just so easy to get along with you couldn’t help but to accidentally spill your guts and tell him everything.
he was quick to give a curt nod and mumble out an apology, “i’m sorry y/n, i guess i’m just shocked. i mean…not that i’ve ever thought about it!” his eyes darted up to meet yours and his hands waved in front of him to waver off an accusations, “i just assumed!”
you huffed out a slight laugh at his absurdity, “it’s fine chan, it was fair of you to assume. i mean im old enough now where i really shouldn’t be a virgin.” the last word came out in a whisper as if it was dirty and something that shouldn’t be spoken.
chan leaned in close, picking up on the hint that it was an embarrassing topic for you and would prefer it to be kept in hushed whispers.
“have you ever kissed anyone?”
a shiver ran down your spine as you nodded, “yes, and it was awful. he kept biting at my lip too harshly and was making out with my nose rather than my lips.”
he leaned in even closer, “is that the only time you’ve kissed someone?”
your cheeks flushed and you began to feel humiliated, “well..yea…i was too nervous to try again. what if that’s just what kissing is like? i didn’t like it…”
chan laughed, like, out loud chuckled and you scrambled to kick his shin to get him to shut up.
“don’t laugh you asshole!”
he could barely get out his sentence through his gasps for hair, “i’m sorry! but i promise you y/n, that is not what good kissing is.”
you crossed your arms over your chest and pouted like a child, “well how am i supposed to know..”
he cocked up an eyebrow and you caught how a teasing smirk spread across his lips, he leaned in close so only you could hear his words, “i could show you.”
your heart stopped and your head shot up with your eyes wide with shock, “what!?”
he shrugged as if it was the most casual offer ever and continued on like it was nothing, “i said i could show you. ya know, i could show you how to kiss..” he waved his hands while he tried to form the sentence, “and show you…the other stuff too.”
“you’re kidding right?” you search his face for any hint of sarcasm, any sign that he was bullshitting you right now, “are you serious?”
he nodded, still staying as calm as ever, “if you want to, of course.”
your face was still frozen in shock, “did you just offer to take my virginity?”
he laughed a little, “y/n it’s ok if you don’t want to, i don’t want to pressure yo-“
“yes.”
he looked back up at you, his eyebrow raised, “yea?” he leaned in even closer to you, “want me to show you how amazing sex is?”
your thighs clenched at his teasing and you fought back every instinct in you telling you to just lean in and close the distance between you two! but you wanted him to do it. wanted him to show you how.
chan motioned his head down the hallway, “let’s go to your room, want to make sure we have all the privacy we need for this, can’t have anyone walking in on you getting railed.”
he was such a tease. the way his hands were slow to unbutton his pants. painfully slow as he pulled down his boxers, letting his rock hard cock free. had he had a boner this whole time? your mind couldn’t stay concentrated on that when you caught sight of his leaking dip, precum oozing out.
when your eyes trailed back up to chans he still has that shit eating grin on his face, “like what you see?”
you felt like such a pervert but you couldn’t stop looking at his cock.
“i’ve never seen one in person before.”
he hummed and tilted his head back, “in person? that implys that you’ve watched porn?”
you immediately looked down into your lap, your cheeks glowing so red you swear he could’ve seen them even in the dimly lit room.
your voice was low and you muttered, embarrassed that you had to admit this, “i-it helps sometimes..when i’m horny and it’s really hot..”
he clicked his tongue and stepped closer to you, the new found information making his cock twitch.
“lay back on the bed.”
you immediately followed his instructions, finding that you loved being ordered around like this. chan climbed over you, his large shoulders caging you in, making you feel small under his large frame. his chain dangled down and you didn’t know whether to stare at it or at his large plump lips that were now just mere inches from yours.
your lips parted a little, letting out small pants as you tried to calm your racing heart. he let his arms relaxing, holding himself up on his forearms, bringing his lips even closer to yours.
chan just smiled, “let me know if it gets too much.”
you nodded but thought it was silly considering that his bare cock was pressed against your leg. he closed the space finally, letting his soft lips press against yours. it was so much more gentler than you thought it would be, his lips enveloped yours, leading the way with precision. the kiss felt like nothing you had ever thought it could be, his hand reached up to cup your cheek as he pressed a little harder against your lips, deepening the kiss. you couldn’t help the tiny moans that broke free, they came out as pathetic whimpers as he swallowed them from you.
his tongue darted out, swiping against your bottom lip to ask, beg, for permission. your mouth opened a little wider to let chan stick his tongue in, tasting every part of you. you were just acting on instinct, letting your body take over as you started grinding your hips up to meet his. chan gasped when he felt his cock press deeper against your thighs with every thrust of your hips. he pulled away from the kiss, giving you both a moment to breathe as he started to match your grinding, rubbing his cock against your clothed core.
“such a dirty girl trying to hump me while i’m kissing you, thought you were some sweet innocent girl, hm?” he smiled down at you with such a condescending look that made butterflies form in your stomach for reasons you didn’t understand.
you couldn’t break your gaze away from his lips, so plump and swollen and now covered in your spit making them glisten under the dim lights of your room, “i-it just felt good..” your voice was quiet with embarrassment.
chan clicked his tongue and his smile grew, “yea? feels good? such a pretty little thing, already so needy,” he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before crawling off of you, “wanna learn something else?”
you eagerly nodded, suddenly so desperate for any type of touch or praise he was willing to give you.
he motioned you closer with his finger and pointed down at the floor, “get on your knees sweetie.”
your head spun with how sweet his demands were and just the idea of what was about to happen. you did as you were told, of course, and was immediately face to face with his leaking cock.
chan cooed down at you, “such a pretty mouth, been staring at it all night long, you deserve to have my cock fill it.”
his words drew whimpers out of you and without much thinking you let your lips part, sticking out your tongue and waiting for him to fill your throat. he groaned deeply, trying his best to hold himself back from fucking your face. chan brought his heavy tip down, laying it across your tongue and letting you taste him.
he was salty and musky, making you salivate for more, drool already dripping off the tip of your tongue. you wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking gently as if it was a lollipop. his breath hitched and you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for making him feel good.
a hand reached down to cradle the sides of your head as chans eyes fluttered shut, “oh fuck baby, are you sure you haven’t sucked dick before?”
you smiled a little at his praise and felt cocky, taking a bit more of his length in your mouth, letting your tongue trace every vein and crevice of his cock. he was hot in your mouth and you struggled to fit any more in your mouth without triggering your gag reflex.
despite the sweet feeling of having your lips around his dick, chan was still keeping a watchful eye on you and he was quick to notice your squirming and how your eyes squeezed shut when you tried to take even more.
“hey, hey, hey, slow down honey,” he pulled back his hips a little just enough so he wasn’t filling your mouth, “don’t overdue it baby, breathe through your nose and let your throat relax, don’t tense up.”
you nodded a little and leaned back forward to take the length back in your mouth and try again. this time around was better, you let your body relax and was able to focus on the feeling of his heavy cock weighing down on your tongue.
chan smiled down at you, a twinge of pride building in him as you followed his orders, “there you go baby, now you can take it even deeper. slap my thigh if it gets too much ok?”
you hummed around his dick, the vibrations making him throw his head back as he moaned loudly, completely forgetting about the party just outside the door. you looked up at him through your lashes, he looked so pretty getting all desperate and it urged you on to take his cock even more. his tip was now poking at the back of your throat, you gagged a little, but started to bob your head on his dick, feeling each vein rub against your tongue.
his fingers tangled themselves into your hair, helping to guide your mouth rather than force you down on his cock. chan looked back down at you and couldn’t help the loud moans that left his lips. you looked so pretty like this, on your knees, mouth full of him, your breasts pressed together from your arms and all on display for him through your low cut shirt. spit dribbled down your chin but you couldn’t be bothered about the sticky mess, all you could think about was the thick cock currently filling all your senses.
you kept moaning around his dick, edging him on, you knew how the vibrations were getting to him, knew that he was on the brink of losing it. so you pulled off, let his dick out your mouth with a wet ‘pop’. chan was quick to snap up, looking down at you with wide eyes, worrying that something had happened but his senses immediately calmed when he felt your hand wrapped around his cock, using your spit as lube to stroke him.
you smiled up at him, your lips and chin coated with a mixture of your spit and his precum, your voice came out whiny, “channie, please, wan you to fuck my mouth.”
his eyes turned dark with lust, his grip in your hair getting tighter, “you want that baby? such a dirty girl…had to teach you how to suck me off and now you’re begging me to face fuck you?”
you nodded eagerly while pressing a kiss to his tip, speeding up the pace of your hand. you couldn’t help it, he had such a powerful demeanor that you needed him to ruin you.
a dark smile spread across his face with your permission as he ran a thumb across your bottom lip, “open for me honey.”
you did as you were told, opening your mouth and whimpering at the feeling of him shoving his length back down your throat. you gagged at the sudden intrusion but the uncomfortable feeling faded with his thrusts, you just felt pure pleasure letting him use you in this filthy way. his arms flexed with how tight he was holding on your head, the sight of his muscles made the wet spot in your panties grow even more, just the sheer thought of him manhandling you with those big arms made you squirm under his grasp.
his moans we’re getting more desperate and whiny as he got closer, your warm throat squeezing him tight. his thrusts grew sloppy as he got closer and chan lovingly brought a hand down from your hair to cup your cheek.
“gonna cum baby-fuck. want my cum on you? wanna be covered in my cum?” chans voice was breathy, trying his best to not cum right down your throat.
you hummed around his cock and pulled your shirt up, revealing your tits to him, showing off your fancy new bra you put on in hopes of something happening tonight. lucky you.
chan grunted as he pulled out of your mouth, the cool air making his cock twitch. he was quick to wrap his hand around it and stroke until he was shooting pretty white ropes all over your breasts, covering them with his seed. he bit his lip to try and muffle his moans but it didn’t matter, he was loud enough you’re sure the whole house could hear but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
you pressed your tits together, egging chan on you smeared his cum around, pulling your bra down so you could rub it on your nipples.
when his thighs started to twitch from overstimulation, his stroking stopped and he sighed out as he admired his work of art covering your body, “god, you look so pretty covered in my cum.” he huffed out.
you smiled up at him and giggled shyly, getting all embarrassed and flustered as if his cock wasn’t just fucking your throat a second ago. he helped you get off your knees, stabilizing you as you wobbled a little before pushing you back on the bed.
“let me cum on your pretty tits, gonna let me fill that pretty pussy too?” he mumbled, voice low and raspy as he crawled over you, letting one of his hands wander down your body until it landed on the waist band of your shorts.
you whimpered and bit your lip as you nodded. you couldn’t help yourself as your hips bucked up into his touch. a smirk covers his face as he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips while his hands worked diligently to unbutton your pants, taking them off with a practiced swiftness.
your thighs clenched when the cool air hit your bare pussy, chan was quick to slide his hand between your thighs to keep them nice and open for him.
“nuh-uh, keep that pretty cunt on display for me honey.” his fingers dipped down, collecting your arousal before giving an exaggerated gasp.
“so wet for me baby, who would’ve ever thought such a sweet innocent girl like you would’ve gotten so wet just from getting face fucked.”
you whimpered and wrapped your hands around his neck, brining his lips back down to yours. he chuckled into the kiss and plunged two fingers deep inside your drooling cunt. you gasped into the kiss, giving him perfect access to slip his tongue into your mouth and swallow every noise you made.
his fingers felt so good, hooking and rubbing that sweet spot so good. you didn’t know it was possible for anything to hit as deep as his fingers were in you right now, anytime you had tried with your own fingers you had just got frustrated and given up. but here you were now, letting your brothers best friend fuck you stupid with just two of his fingers.
chan let his fingers slide out, dragging his now soaked digits up your body until they reached your mouth. he broke away from the kiss and pressed his fingers against your lips.
“suck.” it wasn’t a question.
you let his fingers slip in and groaned at the sweet and salty taste of your own wetness. his mouth watered at the sight of you so obediently sucking your own arousal off his fingers.
“fuck y/n..i think you’re ready to take my cock baby.” he groaned as he pushed off you, sitting between your legs as he stroked his already hard cock.
you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as he eyed your pussy down, “you think so chan?”
he laughed a little and nodded towards your cunt, “well you’re leaking all over the bed, so i’d say your body’s begging for it.”
you got a quiet and your knees turned in, “will you be gentle?”
chans face softened and his smile seemed more gentle, “of course baby, i’ll go at whatever speed you want, you set the pace, ok?” his hands found yours and he squeezed them, letting his words sink in.
your shoulders relaxed and you smiled a little as you let your legs gently fall, revealing yourself back to him, “i like that.”
“yea?” he grinned as his hands gripped at your thighs, squeezing soft reassuring presses as he inched closer.
you nodded and even spread your legs further apart, giving him better access. chan clicked his tongue and wrapped his hands around your hips, dragging you closer to him until your leaking pussy was just inches away from his throbbing cock.
“i’ll go slow baby i promise.” he whispered as he pressed his tip against your opening.
the stretch was…painful to say the least. his cock was thicker and bigger, way bigger than anything you’ve ever tried to take before. you winced and your eyes immediately squeezed shut. chan was cautious though, immediately stopping his attempt to push in and let you just sit and rest for a minute.
chans voice was soothing and he rubbed at your hips soothingly “hey, hey, shh, it’s ok honey i’m not pushing in anymore, i’ll let you get used to the feeling.”
you whimpered but he was right, you did get used to the stretch eventually. when it wasn’t painful anymore, you gripped at his veiny forearms and urged him to keep moving, “please chan, please keep moving.”
he laughed a little at your eagerness and complied with your desperation, pushing in just a few more inches. that process continued, pushing in just a bit deeper, letting you adjust then pushing in a bit more.
you whimpered he pushed in a few more inches, you had never felt this full before, your poor pussy getting stretched to the brim, but chan just beamed down at you.
“look at you sweetie, you took my whole cock.” his voice was filled with pride, so proud of you for taking all of his length.
you gasped out a happy little sigh, letting yourself clamp down around his length now that you were completely filled, “fuck chan…you’re so deep in me..”
his hands dragged across your body, grabbing at your cum covered boobs before moving down to grasp at your waist, “you want me to move?”
you nodded and bit your lip, “please channie, i need you to fuck me.”
he growled and his demeanor completely switched from soft and caring to lust filled and rough. his hips pulled back before pushing back in, somehow hitting even deeper than before. you gasped out, all shame leaving your body as you nearly screamed out in pleasure. his hips rolled into yours, catching your clit on his pelvis with every thrust.
“fuck..oh god!” you cried out, scratching at his arms as his thrusts picked up speed.
chan was swift with his movements, before you could even get another moan out, your legs were tossed over his shoulders and he was some how even deeper in you. your eyes rolled back you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking up to meet his thrusts.
he moved in top of you, putting you in a mating press while he supported himself on his forearms. he had the perfect view of your fucked out face.
“god your pussy’s so perfect, sucking me in baby, you’ve been wanting this haven’t you?”
you nodded and babbled out something incoherent that was supposed to mean ‘yes’.
he cocked an eyebrow and smirked down at you, “tell me baby, how long have you wanted me to fuck you, let me hear you say it.”
you choked out a moan and reached out to scratch pretty lines across his shoulder blades, “forever! since you and my brother became friends!” you couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed at the confession, too fucked dumb to think about anything but ‘cock, cock, cock’.
he pressed his lips to yours, mumbling against your lips, “i knew it,” sloppy kisses with his spit dribbling off your lips, “i’ve been wanting to fuck you like this since the day i first saw you.”
the obnoxious sound of skin slapping filled the room and you were sure now that the whole house could hear it and were doing their best to ignore it. his stamina was impressive, how he could cum all over your chest and immediately fuck you senseless just moments after. you thanked god that your first time was with a dancer because good lord did he know how to move his hips.
your hands moved to his neck, pulling him into the kiss even deeper if that was possible, “chan-ah! i’m gonna-ngh-cum!”
his thrusts were getting sloppy but he was still hitting so deep, “me too baby, want me to cum inside? fill you up?”
you couldn’t form words, just nodding your head frantically as you moaned like a porn star. chan reached down to rub small circles at your clit, pushing you over the edge as you clenched down on his cock. your orgasm hit you impossibly hard, you never knew an orgasm could be this intense. your thighs clamped shut around him and you screamed out from pleasure, your pretty pussy fluttered around his dick as you leaked pretty white drops around him.
chan wasn’t far behind you, pumping you full of his hot white seed, breeding you nicely. he was so loud when he came, moaning and whimpering as his dick twitched inside you, spurting out the last few drops. his cum leaked out from your pussy around him, the sticky combination of your guys’s cum dripping down your pussy onto the bed.
it took you a minute to even get your mind working again, your whole view went blurry and it felt like your body was fuzzy. chan, of course, recouped faster and was able to be there to take care of you. he slowly pulled out, not wanting to accidentally overstimulate with, and made a mental note to memorize the way his cum oozed out from your wrecked hole. he grabbed some tissues from your night stand, doing his best to temporarily clean you up before you could take a proper shower.
his voice was smooth and his touches were oh so gentle, a complete switch from how he was, “you did so good for me baby, such a good job. did you like that?”
you hadn’t moved yet, eyes still glued to the ceiling and your mouth still parted but you managed to give him a small nod, a little sign of life. he giggled at how fucked out you are and pulled you up and into his lap, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.
“i didn’t go to rough did i?” he checked, the worry in his voice evident but you were quick to shut him down.
“no, of course not, if it was i would’ve let you know,” you paused and started to trace small designs on his skin, suddenly feeling all flustered, “it was really, really nice.”
he kissed the top of your head and smiled into your hair, “i’m glad you had such a good time y/n.”
your grinned and relaxed into his hold, feeling your eyes begin to droop as sleep slowly took over you, “who knew sex could be so good.”
description: you’ve always been sweet. too sweet, probably. then, eddie starts taking you on dates, putting cigarettes to your lips, and looking at you like he wants to ruin you just a little bit.
pairing: eddie x henderson!reader (fem!reader)
tags: eddie x henderson!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, soft corruption, "good girl" energy, sweethearts you to DEATH, firsts, mutual pining, praise kink undertones, protective eddie, eddie not knowing what to do with all of this softness, "jesus christ" 24/7, shy affection, "there she is", "that's my girl", horny but sweet
TW: NSFW (18+) minors do not interact!!, PiV, smoking
WC: 9.9k
A/N: requested by @ihaveaspoon i hope you enjoy!!!! reblog for ya girl, if you don't mind ;) why do i lowkey love a corruption fic🫣 *proofread as best as i could, my brain hurts, sorry
People always say the same things about you.
Sweet, polite, and pretty in that soft sort of way that makes old women at the grocery store smile at you fondly and teachers immediately trust you with passing out papers.
The kind of girl who remembers everyone’s favorite candy, who waves when people let her cross the street, who still says bless you when someone sneezes, even if she doesn’t know them. Hawkins is small enough that kindness stands out, and yours seems endless.
It’s almost strange, really.
Not because you’re naive exactly, but because the world has not managed to harden you yet. You still help Dustin with his homework even after he acts like a little asshole all through dinner. You still leave little notes in his lunchbox and compliment strangers’ outfits and smile at people like you genuinely hope they’re having a good day.
And maybe that’s why nobody’s ever dated you.
Not for lack of trying, because boys definitely do. They trip over themselves around you constantly, all awkward grins and sweaty palms and invitations to the movies that you somehow never realize are dates until weeks later when Robin physically grabs your shoulders and says, “Honey, he was flirting with you.”
Your response had only been a confused blink. “He was?”
Robin had stared at you for a very long moment before muttering something about you being “a baby deer in the middle of hunting season.”
The thing is, romance has always felt like something happening around you instead of to you. Girls in your grade pass notes about kissing boys behind the bleachers while you sit beside them, doodling little stars in the margins of your notebook.
Nancy comes over ranting about Steve, and you listen carefully, chin in your palm, like she’s telling you a story from another planet entirely. Then there’s Eddie. And honestly, maybe the universe should’ve warned him first.
Because Eddie is used to people looking at him and immediately deciding what he is before he even opens his mouth. Freak. Burnout. Drug dealer. Satanist. Every adult in Hawkins looks at him like he’s one wrong move away from corrupting their children, and every girl who flirts with him does it with this expectation that he’ll play into the role they’ve already created in their heads.
But you don’t, you look at him the same way you look at everyone else: warmly.
The first time he really notices it is after Hellfire one night, when everyone else has already cleared out of the drama room except you, sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs, waiting for Dustin to finish arguing with Mike about some campaign detail. Eddie’s shoving books back into his bag when you quietly slide a can of Coke across the table toward him.
“I remembered this was your favorite,” you say simply.
And Eddie just stares at you. Because you remembered that. Not in a flirty way. Not trying to get anything from him. You’d just noticed him mentioning it once weeks ago and tucked the information away in that sweet little head of yours like it mattered.
“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.
You blink at him softly. “What?”
“Nothin’, sweetheart.”
The nickname slips out before he can stop it. And the worst part is the way your entire face warms at it, ducking your head shyly like nobody’s ever called you something like that before. Which, horrifyingly enough for Eddie, might actually be true.
Steve’s living room is already loud by the time Eddie gets there.
Robin is halfway through aggressively arguing with Nancy about what movie they’re watching, Steve looks one inconvenience away from death on the couch, and somewhere in the kitchen, Dustin is complaining about the lack of “real snacks” like he personally funds the grocery shopping.
It’s warm inside the Harrington house, all yellow lighting and cluttered blankets draped over the couch cushions, the kind of easy domesticity Eddie always feels a little strange stepping into. Then he sees you.
Curled up in the corner of the couch with sock-covered feet tucked beneath you, smiling the second the front door opens.
“Eddie!” you say brightly, like you hadn’t just seen him yesterday at Hellfire. “There’s still space next to me.”
That immediately becomes the worst moment of Eddie’s entire life.
Because there is space next to you, a very obvious space. One you apparently saved for him without thinking twice. Robin notices the way Eddie visibly hesitates in the doorway and has to fake a coughing fit into her sleeve to keep from laughing.
Eddie drops onto the couch beside you with what he hopes resembles casualness. “Well, sweetheart, how thoughtful of you. Saved me from sitting on the crusty Harrington carpet.”
Steve flips him off from the recliner. “You’re lucky you were invited at all.”
You giggle softly at that, and Eddie immediately has to look away from you.
The movie starts eventually, though Eddie barely absorbs any of it. Not when you’re sitting tucked against his side close enough that your knees keep brushing every few minutes. Every time it happens, you murmur a tiny “sorry” under your breath before doing it all over again thirty seconds later, entirely unaware of the psychological warfare you’re inflicting on him.
At some point during the movie, you start reaching into the popcorn bowl in his lap instead of the one on the coffee table. Again, absentmindedly. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to lean across him every few minutes with your soft perfume surrounding him and your sleeve brushing against his rings.
Eddie thinks he may actually be dying.
“Oh my god, this part is so sad,” you whisper at one point, turning toward him with wide eyes.
Eddie blinks. “Sweetheart, this guy has been on screen for maybe four minutes.”
“I know,” you whisper back earnestly. “But look at him.”
And Christ.
That’s another thing about you, you care about everything. Movie characters with three lines. Stray cats behind Melvald’s. Random kids crying in the grocery store. You move through the world with this unbearable softness that makes Eddie feel simultaneously protective and completely ruined by you.
About halfway through the movie, the room cools enough that you quietly reach for the blanket bunched beside Eddie’s leg. He lifts it automatically to help you pull it over yourself, only for you to immediately lift one side toward him too.
“You’ll get cold,” you murmur.
Eddie stares at you for a beat too long before slowly ducking beneath the blanket beside you. Across the room, Robin physically presses her lips together to stop herself from making a noise. Then, somehow, things get worse. Because sometime during the second movie, you get sleepy.
Eddie notices it in little ways first. The slower blinking, the way your words trail off halfway through comments. Eventually, your head tips sideways against his shoulder so naturally that it almost seems unconscious.
The entire room goes quiet for exactly two seconds. Not because of you, but because Eddie completely freezes.
You don’t even realize what you’ve done at first, already half-asleep against him beneath the blanket. Then your eyes blink open slightly, face warming the tiniest bit when you realize where you’re leaning.
“Oh,” you mumble softly. “Is this okay?”
Eddie thinks his heart physically hurts.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘Course it is.”
You smile at that. Small and sleepy and trusting. Then your eyes drift shut again against his shoulder like there was never a possibility he’d say no. Robin watches Eddie very carefully after that. Specifically, the way he doesn’t move for the next hour, not even once.
By the time the movie ends, you’ve wandered into the kitchen with Nancy to help clean up empty soda cans while Dustin argues with Steve over something stupid in the dining room. Eddie is still sitting on the couch like he’s recovering from a near-death experience when Robin drops into the seat beside him.
“You are so unbelievably into her,” she says immediately.
Eddie scoffs without looking at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit. You looked at her like a Victorian man seeing an ankle.”
That finally gets a reluctant snort out of him. Robin grins, leaning back into the couch cushions. “She likes you too, y’know.”
Eddie’s expression changes instantly. “No, she doesn’t.” The response comes too fast.
Robin’s face softens slightly beneath the teasing. “Eddie—”
“She’s nice to everybody,” he cuts in quietly, eyes flicking toward the hallway where you disappeared moments ago. “That’s just who she is.”
And maybe that’s the problem, because Eddie knows what people like him do to things that are soft.
Friday afternoon sunlight spills warm through the hallway windows, catching against Eddie’s face as he leans against the lockers outside your classroom like he’s been there a while, pretending not to wait for you.
Which is exactly what he’s been doing.
You almost miss him at first while stuffing books into your bag, too focused on making sure Dustin remembered his science worksheet this morning. It’s only when someone whistles obnoxiously down the hall, and Eddie flips them off without even turning around, that your eyes finally land on him.
And immediately, your stomach does something strange. Not bad, strange, just strange. Because Eddie’s looking at you already.
Not casually either. His dark eyes lock onto yours the second you notice him, and for a moment, he looks almost nervous, which feels impossible considering this is Eddie. Eddie, who performs lunch table monologues and flirts with teachers for extra credit, acts like the entire world is his stage.
You smile anyway.
“There she is,” he says, pushing off the lockers.
“Hi,” you answer softly, adjusting the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder. “Were you waiting for someone?”
Eddie actually laughs at that.
“Sweetheart,” he says, stepping closer, “you are genuinely killin’ me.”
Your brows pull together a little. “What?”
“Nothin’.” He shakes his head, grinning to himself before dragging his rings along the back of his neck. Suddenly, he looks oddly uncertain again. “Uh… actually, I was waitin’ for you.”
“Oh.” The word comes out quieter than you mean for it to.
The hallway around you buzzes with noise, lockers slamming and people shoving past each other on their way outside, but it suddenly feels very far away. Eddie shifts his weight once, eyes flicking over your face like he’s trying to gauge something.
Then he says, “You wanna go out with me tonight?”
“You mean…” You blink once. “Like a date?”
Eddie’s mouth twitches slightly. “Yeah, sweetheart. Like a date.”
And maybe it’s embarrassing how fast your face warms.
Not because you don’t want to go. God, you do. You think maybe you’ve wanted to for longer than you realized. It’s just that nobody’s ever looked at you quite like Eddie is right now, all careful confidence hiding something softer underneath.
“Okay,” you say before you can overthink it.
Eddie stills. “Okay?”
You smile a little shyly. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”
For a second, Eddie genuinely looks stunned.
Then the slowest grin spreads across his face, crooked and warm and so unfairly pretty that you have to glance down at your shoes for a second just to collect yourself.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, mostly to himself.
You laugh softly. “What?”
“There’s that thing again where you say yes to me like I just asked if you wanted a pencil instead of—” He cuts himself off with another disbelieving shake of his head. “Tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats, like he still can’t believe it.
He walks backward down the hallway afterward, still grinning at you in this helpless sort of way, before finally turning toward the exit. You stand there for a moment after he disappears, your heartbeat feeling strangely uneven beneath your ribs.
Then, naturally, you go find Robin.
She’s already behind the Family Video counter when you walk in later that afternoon, lazily rewinding tapes with Steve half-asleep beside her. The second she sees your face, her eyes narrow suspiciously.
“What happened?”
You blink. “Nothing happened.”
“That is not a nothing face.”
Steve lifts his head slightly from the counter. “What’s a nothing face?”
Robin points at you dramatically. “That face. That’s the face girls make before they tell you life-altering information.”
Your cheeks warm immediately. “It’s not life-altering.”
“Oh my god,” Robin gasps. “You kissed someone.”
“What? No!”
Steve snorts tiredly into the counter. Robin leans forward. “Then what?”
You hesitate for half a second before saying quietly, “Eddie asked me on a date.”
Then Robin slams both palms onto the counter so hard Steve nearly falls out of his chair. “I KNEW IT.”
Your face warms instantly beneath her stare. Steve looks significantly more awake now, too, blinking between the two of you while Robin points at you like you’ve personally validated her entire worldview.
“I told you he liked her,” she says to Steve.
Steve shrugs. “I mean, yeah. The guy looks at her like she personally invented music.”
“Oh my god,” you mumble, covering your face briefly with your sleeve.
Robin immediately softens at that, grinning as she leans her elbows onto the counter. “Aw, honey, don’t look embarrassed. This is cute.”
Cute. The word alone makes your stomach flutter strangely.
You glance down shyly, tracing your thumb along the strap of your bag. “It’s just a date.”
“Mhm,” Robin hums knowingly. “And what exactly are we wearing to this very casual, definitely-not-important date?”
You blink. “I don’t know yet.”
Steve finally sits up straighter. “Wait, hold on. Tonight tonight?”
You nod once. Robin gasps dramatically. “Oh, this is serious.”
“It is not serious,” you protest immediately.
Robin’s expression turns fond in that way it sometimes does around you, all teasing melting into something softer. “Sweetie, he stood outside your classroom looking nervous and was a statue when you fell asleep on him. You’ve altered his brain chemistry.”
You hide your face again with a quiet groan while Steve laughs under his breath.
“I’m serious,” Robin continues. “I have literally never seen him act normal around anybody he’s interested in.”
Before you can answer, Robin suddenly narrows her eyes. “Wait. Have you even been on a date before?”
You hesitate just long enough for her to gasp. “Oh, my god.”
“It’s not a big deal,” you say quickly.
Steve blinks at you. “Like… ever?”
You shrug awkwardly. “I don’t know. Nobody’s really asked.”
Robin and Steve share a look over your head that feels deeply loaded.
“What?” you ask suspiciously.
Robin shakes her head slowly. “Nothing. I just think half the male population of Hawkins is profoundly stupid.”
You laugh quietly at that, cheeks still warm. “You guys are making this sound way more dramatic than it is.”
Robin reaches over the counter to squeeze your hand once. “No, honey. We’re making it sound exactly as dramatic as it is.”
By seven o’clock, your bedroom looks like a small tornado passed through it.
Not because you’re trying overly hard, exactly. More because every outfit suddenly feels wrong the second you put it on. Robin’s teasing voice still echoes faintly in your head every time you glance in the mirror.
"Eddie Munson stood outside your classroom, nervous."
Which is ridiculous, Eddie doesn’t get nervous. However, your stomach has been fluttering stupidly for the last hour anyway.
Eventually, you settle on something simple. Something that still feels like you. Soft sweater, jeans that fit nicely, a little lip gloss Nancy once insisted you’d “thank her for later.” By the time you finally step out of your bedroom, the house is quiet except for the television murmuring faintly from the living room.
Dustin is sprawled across the couch with a bowl of cereal balanced on his stomach despite the fact it’s fully evening. He glances up absentmindedly at first.
His entire face lights up. “Whoa.”
You immediately laugh nervously. “What?”
“You look pretty.”
The sincerity in his voice catches you slightly off guard. Dustin sits up straighter on the couch, grinning at you in a way that suddenly reminds you painfully that he’s still your little brother underneath all the dramatics and endless talking.
“You really think so?”
“Duh.” He gestures vaguely with his spoon. “Eddie’s gonna freak out.”
Your cheeks warm instantly. “Dustin.”
“What? He likes you like… aggressively.”
You laugh softly despite yourself, smoothing your hands nervously over your sleeves. “Robin said the same thing.”
“Because it’s true,” Dustin says, like it’s obvious. “He talks about you all the time.”
That makes you blink. “He does?”
“Oh my god,” Dustin groans, dropping back dramatically against the couch cushions. “You seriously have no idea, do you?”
Before you can answer, headlights sweep briefly across the front window.
Dustin notices your expression and grins even wider. “You’re nervous.”
“I am not.”
“You are,” he says delightedly. “This is amazing.”
Then there’s a knock at the door, and your heartbeat feels too loud. Dustin looks between you and the front door with poorly concealed excitement before jumping up from the couch first.
“Oh, I’m answering it.”
“Dustin—”
Too late. He yanks the front door open with the energy of a child on Christmas morning.
Eddie’s standing on the porch in dark jeans and his leather jacket, curls slightly messy like he’s been dragging nervous hands through them.
He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers that look suspiciously like they came from the little stand outside Melvald’s, and for once in his life, Eddie Munson actually seems unsure of himself.
Then his eyes land on you behind Dustin, and he completely forgets how to speak. Dustin looks back and forth between the two of you with visible delight.
“Oh my god,” he whispers dramatically. “He is freaking out.”
Eddie blinks once like he’s rebooting. “Henderson, I will kill you.”
“You brought flowers,” Dustin says smugly.
Eddie ignores him entirely, still staring at you in a way that makes your chest feel warm all over again. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi.” The word comes out softer than you intended.
Eddie swallows once. Then, very carefully, he holds the flowers out toward you. “These are for you.”
“Be home by ten!” Dustin calls dramatically as Eddie leads you back toward the van.
You pause halfway down the walkway. “Since when do you give me a curfew?”
“Since now,” he says importantly, leaning against the front doorframe. “And no funny business.”
Eddie scoffs loudly without looking back. “You are literally fifteen.”
“And wiser than both of you combined.”
You laugh softly under your breath as Eddie opens the passenger door for you with an exaggerated bow.
“Goodbye, Dustin.”
“GOODBYE. BE SAFE. DON’T GET PREGNANT.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, face burning as Eddie bursts into helpless laughter beside you.
The front door slams shut before you can retaliate further.
“Your brother is insane.”
“You encourage him.”
“Because he’s funny.”
“He’s awful.”
Eddie laughs again as the van rumbles to life beneath you. The sound settles warmly through the small space alongside the radio's quiet static, and for a little while, things feel easy.
Eddie drums his fingers against the steering wheel while he drives one-handed, occasionally glancing over at you with this small private smile that makes your stomach flutter every single time.
It isn’t until he pulls into the overlook outside town later that night that things start to shift.
The place is mostly empty this late, only a couple of scattered cars parked beneath the dark stretch of sky overlooking Hawkins. “This okay?” he asks.
You nod immediately. “Yeah. It’s pretty up here.”
Eddie’s eyes linger on your face for a second too long before he looks away again with a quiet hum. “Yeah,” he says softly. “It is.”
Then, after a moment, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.
You watch absentmindedly as he taps one loose and settles it between his lips, the flame from his lighter briefly illuminating the sharp lines of his face in warm orange. Smoke curls slowly into the night air once he exhales.
You don’t know why you ask. Maybe curiosity, maybe because everything about Eddie feels a little intoxicating lately.
“Can I try one?”
Eddie freezes mid-exhale. Slowly, he turns toward you. “What?”
You shrug a little, suddenly oddly shy beneath the intensity of his stare. “Just once.”
For a second, he just looks at you. “You’ve never smoked before.”
It isn’t a question. You shake your head once. “No.”
Eddie lets out the faintest breath through his nose, eyes dragging away toward the windshield for a moment. His rings tap softly against the cigarette resting between his fingers.
And maybe this is exactly the kind of thing everyone in Hawkins expects from him. Corrupting nice girls in parked vans late at night. The thought should probably make him feel guilty. Instead, all he can think about is the way you’re looking at him right now, all soft curiosity and trust.
“Sweetheart,” he says slowly, “you really shouldn’t ask me things like that.”
Your brows pull together slightly. “Why?”
Eddie glances back at you then, dark eyes unreadable in the low lighting.
“Because,” he says quietly, “I’m probably gonna say yes.”
Before you can overthink it, Eddie sighs softly and shifts closer across the seat, cigarette still balanced between his fingers. “C’mere.”
You lean closer instinctively, knees brushing his in the cramped space between the seats. Eddie watches you the entire time, gaze flicking once toward your mouth before he catches himself.
“This’ll probably taste awful, by the way.”
You smile a little. “You’re really selling it.”
“Just bein’ honest.”
Carefully, he lifts the cigarette toward your lips. And Christ. The sight alone nearly does him in.
You hesitate only briefly before taking a tentative inhale exactly the way he showed you. Almost immediately, your face scrunches up as you start coughing lightly into your sleeve.
Eddie laughs instantly, reaching over to rub a warm hand against your back. “Easy, easy— there she is.”
“That is horrible,” you rasp between coughs, eyes watering slightly.
“I did warn you.”
You’re still laughing softly at yourself when you finally glance back up at him, only to realize how close he is now. For a moment, neither of you moves.
The cigarette burns slowly between Eddie’s fingers, forgotten entirely now as his eyes stay fixed on yours. You can still feel the warmth of his hand through your sweater, where it rests against your back. Though the look on his face is becoming significantly less careful by the second.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
You nod once.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Your voice comes out softer than usual, and Eddie notices immediately.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself, dragging his eyes away from your mouth with visible effort.
His hand slips from your back only so he can lean farther into the seat, head tipping briefly against it like he’s trying to regain control of his own thoughts.
You watch him for a second before smiling slightly. “What?”
Eddie laughs once, but there’s no real humor in it. “You have genuinely no idea what you do to me, huh?”
Your stomach flips hard enough to make you glance away. Not because you don’t understand what he means, you do.
Maybe not fully, or with the same confidence other girls seem to have, but you understand enough to feel the tension thickening between you now. The difference is you’re not afraid of it, not with him.
“You make me nervous, too,” you admit quietly.
That gets Eddie’s attention instantly. His head turns toward you again, curls falling slightly into his eyes. “I do?”
You nod, fingers fidgeting lightly in your lap. “You always look at me like you’re thinking something.”
Eddie goes very still. Because he is, constantly.
And suddenly, he’s picturing every single filthy thought he’s had about you over the last few weeks while you sat beside him smiling sweetly like you trusted him with your whole heart.
Every moment, he’s imagined pulling you into his lap, kissing you until you forgot your own name, hearing soft sounds fall from your mouth, all because of him.
Dangerous thoughts, especially about someone like you.
“You really wanna know what I’m thinking?” he asks finally, voice lower now.
The question sends heat crawling up your neck. Still, you nod.
Eddie studies your face for another long second. Then he leans closer again, slowly enough for you to stop him if you want to. You don’t.
“You sit next to me,” he murmurs, eyes flicking between yours and your mouth, “lookin’ all pretty and sweet all the time, and you don’t even realize what it does to me.”
Your breath catches quietly.
“Sweetheart,” he says softly, almost pained, “I’m trying my best here not to ruin you.”
The word ruin sends a pulse of heat low in your stomach. His gaze darkens immediately at your reaction.
“There she is,” he says quietly, almost pleased. “That got your attention.”
Your face burns. “Eddie…”
“What?” he asks innocently, though there’s nothing innocent about him anymore. “You asked.”
You should probably tell him to stop. Instead, you whisper, “Keep talking.”
Eddie actually closes his eyes briefly at that. When he opens them again, his face slips into something soft, following something dangerous. Like the restraint he’s been clinging to all night is finally beginning to slip.
“You’re trouble,” he murmurs.
You laugh nervously. “I thought you were supposed to be the bad influence.”
“Oh, trust me, doll.” Eddie’s hand slides slowly along your knee, warm and deliberate enough to make your pulse jump. “I am.”
The touch alone feels impossibly intimate. Not because it’s inappropriate, not because it’s even that scandalous. But because it’s Eddie.
Because he’s touching you like he’s trying very hard not to scare you away while simultaneously imagining a thousand worse things.
“You know what the worst part is?” he asks quietly.
You shake your head once.
“I don’t even think you mean to do it.”
His thumb brushes absentmindedly against your knee, and you swear he notices the exact second your breathing changes.
“You smile at me,” he continues softly, “sit close to me, remember little details that nobody should remember… and every time you do, I think maybe this is the moment I finally lose my mind.”
Your heart is pounding so hard now you’re convinced he can hear it. Especially when his eyes drop once more toward your mouth.
Eddie’s thumb is still stroking slow circles over your knee, his dark eyes locked on your mouth like he’s starving for it. You can barely breathe.
“Eddie…” you whisper, not sure what you’re even asking for.
He lets out a shaky breath, like your voice alone is undoing him. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
You don’t answer with words. Instead, you lean in the last few inches and press your lips to his: soft, uncertain, barely a kiss at all, more like a gentle brush.
Eddie freezes for half a second, then groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth. His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, careful, as he tilts his head and kisses you back properly, like he’s teaching you how good it can feel.
You make a tiny surprised sound when his tongue traces your bottom lip, and he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing hard.
“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough. “We can stop anytime. Just tell me.”
“I don’t want to stop,” you whisper, cheeks burning. Your hands are trembling as you reach up and curl your fingers into his jacket. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut like the words physically pain him. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”
He kisses you again, deeper this time, guiding you with gentle pressure until your mouth opens for him. The slide of his tongue against yours makes heat pool low in your belly, unfamiliar and overwhelming.
You try to match him, tentative and sweet, and when you shyly suck on his tongue, he makes a broken noise and pulls you closer across the seat.
He pants against your lips while his hand stays gentle on your neck, thumb stroking your jaw, but his other hand grips the edge of the seat like he’s holding himself back from devouring you.
You kiss him harder, braver now, and he rewards you with a soft moan that goes straight between your legs. When you accidentally graze his bottom lip with your teeth, something you’ve only ever seen in movies, he jerks, fingers tightening in your hair.
Eventually, he pulls back, eyes dark, lips swollen. “Back of the van?” he asks, almost hesitant. “Only if you want. We don’t have to—”
You nod before he can finish, heart hammering. “I want to. With you.”
Eddie helps you climb through to the back, spreading out the blankets he keeps there like he’s making a nest for you. He lays you down so gently it makes your chest ache, then settles over you on his elbows, careful not to crush you.
“Look at me, baby,” he says softly, brushing hair from your face. “We go as slow as you need. Tell me if anything hurts or feels weird, okay? Promise me.”
“I promise,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek.
He kisses you again, slower, deeper, until you’re squirming beneath him.
His hands stay respectful at first, stroking your sides and waist, until you arch into him and he finally slides one under your sweater. The warmth of his palm on your bare skin makes you gasp.
“So soft,” he murmurs against your neck, kissing down the column of your throat. “So fucking perfect.”
You’re trembling when he helps you out of your sweater and bra, but not from fear. Eddie looks at you like you’re something holy, eyes reverent as he cups your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples until they tighten.
“Eddie—” Your voice breaks on his name when he leans down and takes one into his mouth, gentle suction and slow flicks of his tongue. You’ve never felt anything like it. Your hands fly to his hair, gripping curls, and he groans in approval.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold onto me.”
He works you open with patient fingers later, after your jeans and panties are gone, whispering praise the whole time.
“Relax for me, baby… just like that. Good girl. So wet already, fuck. All for me?”
You nod frantically, hips twitching. When he curls his fingers just right, you cry out, shocked by the sharp burst of pleasure.
“There?” he asks, voice low and pleased. He does it again, watching your face. “Yeah? You like that?”
You can barely speak, just whimper and nod. He keeps talking you through it, gentle but filthy, until you’re shaking apart on his fingers with a broken little moan.
He kisses you through it, then rests his forehead against yours while he rolls on a condom. “You sure, sweetheart? We can stop right here. I’d be happy just making you come all night.”
You shake your head, pulling him closer. “I want you. Please, Eddie.”
He enters you so slowly it almost hurts, a combination of pain and how careful he’s being, how full you feel. He stops every inch, murmuring against your temple.
“Breathe, baby. That’s it… doing so good for me. So tight—fuck, you feel incredible. Breathe, okay?”
When he bottoms out, you both moan. He stays still, buried deep, kissing you softly until the stretch eases into something warm and aching and good.
“Move,” you whisper, nails digging into his back. “Please.”
He rocks into you gently at first, then a little deeper when you start lifting your hips to meet him. Every thrust is measured, his voice a constant low rumble in your ear; praise, dirty little observations, encouragement.
“Look at you taking me so well… my sweet girl. Never thought I’d get to have you like this.”
You get bolder as it builds, wrapping your legs around his waist, experimentally clenching around him. Eddie’s rhythm falters.
“Shit—baby, do that again.”
You do, shy but eager, and he groans like he’s dying. On impulse, you tilt your head and bite his shoulder. Not hard, but just enough to leave a mark. Eddie curses loudly, his hips snapping forward harder for a second before he catches himself.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it,” he laughs breathlessly, kissing you deep.
He reaches between you and rubs your clit in tight circles, voice growing rougher as you both get close.
“Come on, baby. Let me feel you. Want you to come on my cock—yeah, just like that. Good girl. So good for me.”
You shatter with his name on your lips, clenching around him so hard his thrusts turn erratic. He follows right after, burying his face in your neck as he comes with a broken moan, hips jerking.
Afterward, he stays inside you for a long moment, stroking your hair, pressing soft kisses to your flushed face.
“You okay?” he whispers, voice tender. “Did I hurt you?”
You shake your head, smiling shyly as you nuzzle into him. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”
Eddie laughs softly, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Yeah? Even when I almost lost my mind because you bit me?”
Eddie’s arm is wrapped carefully around your waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing slow patterns against your skin like he can’t stop touching you now that he’s allowed to. Not that you mind.
Your head rests against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly come back down while his other hand plays gently with your hair. Every few seconds, he presses absent little kisses to the top of your head like he’s doing it unconsciously, like affection simply spills out of him naturally around you.
You feel him shift slightly beneath you after a minute, enough that you tilt your chin up to look at him. He’s already staring down at you, dark curls messy, lips slightly swollen, expression somewhere between completely wrecked and deeply concerned.
“…You sure you’re okay?” he asks again quietly.
The question makes your chest ache a little. Not because it’s upsetting, but because he sounds genuinely nervous about it.
You smile softly almost immediately. “Yeah.”
Eddie studies your face carefully anyway, like he’s searching for any sign you don’t mean it. “Yeah?” he repeats.
“Mhm.”
“You promise?”
A quiet laugh leaves you then, small and sleepy and warm from where you’re curled against him. “Eddie.”
“What?” he says defensively, though his hand tightens slightly around your waist. “I’m serious.”
“I know.” Your fingers drift lazily along the chain around his neck while you look up at him. “I’m okay.”
Eddie exhales slowly through his nose, tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself.
You smile a little wider. “You say that a lot.”
“That’s because you keep doin’ things that make me need divine intervention.”
Your laugh this time is brighter, and Eddie immediately looks at you like he’s just won something.
There’s still this almost disbelieving softness in his expression now, like he hasn’t fully processed that this actually happened. That you happened.
“You’re thinkin’ too hard,” you murmur.
His mouth twitches slightly. “Can you blame me?”
You shrug a little against him. “Maybe.”
“Sweetheart,” he says quietly, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek, “you trusted me with your first time. I think I’m allowed to spiral a little.”
Heat blooms softly across your face at the words.
“You’re really okay?” he asks one more time, softer now.
You nod against him. “Yeah.”
Then, after a tiny pause: “It was nice.”
Eddie goes completely still underneath you. Slowly, he lifts his head enough to stare down at you properly. “Nice?”
You blink innocently. “Yeah.”
A laugh bursts out of him so suddenly it startles you.
“Baby,” he says through his grin, “I am never letting you describe that as nice again.”
Your face warms instantly as you hide it against his chest with a groan, and Eddie just laughs harder, wrapping both arms around you tighter while pressing another kiss into your hair.
“There she is,” he murmurs fondly. “My sweet girl.”
The next morning feels strangely dreamy. Not in some dramatic life-changing way.
Dustin is still loudly arguing with the television before noon, the neighbor’s dog still won’t stop barking, and Hawkins still looks exactly the same outside your bedroom window.
Every time your mind drifts back to the night before, heat creeps slowly up your neck all over again. Eddie’s hands on your waist. The sound of his voice going rough when you kissed him back. The way he kept checking in afterward, like your comfort mattered more to him than anything else in the world.
You think maybe that’s your favorite part. Not the sex itself, though that had certainly been overwhelming in ways you’re still trying to process. It’s the fact that Eddie held you afterward like something precious.
The phone rings around two in the afternoon. You perk up instantly from your spot sprawled on the living room carpet, flipping through a magazine. Dustin glances over from the couch suspiciously while you practically scramble for it.
“Hello?”
A small pause. Then: “Hey, sweetheart.”
Your stomach flips immediately. You smile before you can help it, curling the phone cord loosely around your finger. “Hi.”
Eddie goes quiet for a second on the other end, like maybe hearing your voice affected him too much. When he speaks again, there’s a smile tucked into his words.
“How’re you feelin’ today?”
Warmth floods your face instantly. “I’m okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Another tiny pause. “Good.”
From the couch, Dustin narrows his eyes. “Is that Eddie?”
You wave him off blindly while Eddie snorts quietly through the phone. “Your brother sounds possessive.”
“He’s nosy.”
“I heard that,” Dustin calls loudly.
You laugh softly, and Eddie goes quiet again for half a second in that way he keeps doing now, like hearing you laugh still catches him off guard.
“So,” he says eventually, voice lower now, easier. “I was wonderin’ if maybe you wanted to come to the Hideout tonight.”
“The bar?”
“Mm.” You can practically hear him lighting a cigarette through the phone. “Thought maybe I could buy you a drink. Since you’re all grown up now.”
Your face burns instantly. “Eddie.”
“What?” he asks innocently. “You are.”
You tuck your hair behind your ear shyly despite the fact that he can’t see you. “I’ve never been to the Hideout before.”
“I know.”
And for some reason, the way he says it sends warmth straight through you again. Like he enjoys being the first person to show you these things.
“Only if you want to,” he adds after a second, softer this time. “No pressure.”
You smile immediately at that. “I wanna go.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie exhales quietly through his nose, almost sounding relieved. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll come get you around eight.”
“Okay.”
There’s another pause afterward that stretches warm and comfortable between you both. Then Eddie says, quieter now, “Missed you today.”
Your heart stutters embarrassingly hard. “Oh.”
A soft laugh crackles through the receiver. “There’s that little sound again.”
“What sound?”
“The one you make when I say somethin’ that gets in your head.”
You duck your face instinctively, even though he still can’t see you. From the couch, Dustin groans dramatically. “You are smiling so weird right now.”
The Hideout smells faintly like cigarettes, beer, and old wood, the second Eddie pushes the door open for you.
It’s darker inside than you expected, lit mostly by warm amber lights strung lazily behind the bar and the colored glow from an old neon beer sign buzzing softly in the corner. A band is setting up near the tiny stage in the back while people crowd around sticky tables, laughing too loudly over the music humming through the speakers.
His hand settles lightly against the small of your back, warmth through your shirt as he leans closer so you can hear him over the noise. “You okay, sweetheart?”
You glance up at him and smile. “Yeah. It’s just different than I expected.”
Eddie grins. “What, you thought it’d be glamorous?”
“A little.”
“Aw, honey.” He nudges you gently toward the bar. “This place barely passes health inspection.”
You laugh softly under your breath, and Eddie’s expression immediately softens at the sound like it always does now. There’s still something almost disbelieving in the way he looks at you tonight, like he can’t quite process that you came here with him willingly. That you’re sitting beside him at the Hideout, of all places.
The bartender greets Eddie immediately as soon as you slide onto the stools. “Munson.”
“Hey, Frank.”
Then Frank notices you beside him, one brow lifting slowly.
Eddie catches it instantly. “Don’t start.”
Frank smirks knowingly before wiping down the counter. “Wouldn’t dream of it. What can I get you two?”
Eddie glances sideways at you thoughtfully for a second, tapping his rings lightly against the bartop. “Lemme get a beer…”
Then his eyes flick back toward you again, something amused flickering there.
“And a Dirty Shirley for her.”
You blink. “How did you know that’s what I’d like?”
Eddie shrugs casually, though the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “You just seem like a Dirty Shirley kinda girl.”
The answer makes you laugh softly. And for some reason, Eddie looks absurdly pleased with himself over that. When the drinks arrive a minute later, you eye yours curiously before taking a cautious sip through the straw.
Immediately, your face brightens. “Oh, this is good.”
Eddie snorts into his beer. “Yeah, because it’s basically candy.”
You narrow your eyes playfully. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Nah.” His gaze drifts slowly over your face again, softer now. “Kinda fits you, actually.”
Heat creeps up your neck at the way he says it. You glance down shyly at your drink while Eddie leans one elbow onto the bar beside you, watching you with open fondness now that nobody from school is around to see it.
“You nervous?” he asks after a moment.
“A little.”
“About bein’ here?”
You shrug slightly. “I guess.”
Eddie hums quietly, eyes flicking around the crowded bar before settling back on you. “Nobody’s gonna bother you while you’re with me.”
The words shouldn’t affect you as much as they do. Maybe it’s the confidence in his voice. Maybe it’s the fact that he says it so naturally, like protecting you is already instinct.
Or maybe it’s just Eddie.
“Good,” you say softly before taking another sip.
Eddie goes suspiciously quiet beside you, and you glance over. “What?”
His eyes drag slowly from your lips back up to your face.
“Nothin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You just look real pretty sittin’ here.”
The music hums warmly through your chest now instead of pounding against it, and the second Dirty Shirley Eddie absolutely did not need to buy you has left your cheeks pleasantly warm. You’re leaning closer to him without thinking anymore, your knee pressed between his, where he sits angled toward you at the bar like the rest of the room barely exists.
Eddie’s halfway through telling you some ridiculous story about Gareth nearly setting a school amplifier on fire when you start laughing hard enough to grab onto his arm.
And that completely derails him.
He loses his train of thought instantly, eyes dropping to your hand wrapped around his forearm before slowly flicking back up toward your face. You’re still smiling at him, all sweet and tipsy, entirely unaware of the effect you have on him.
“Why’d you stop talking?” you ask.
Eddie blinks once. “You’re pretty distracting, sweetheart.”
Your face warms immediately.
“There she is,” he murmurs fondly into his beer.
Eventually, the bar starts getting louder as more people crowd in, conversations overlapping with the music until Eddie notices you beginning to glance around, slightly overwhelmed.
His hand settles instinctively against your knee beneath the bar. “You wanna get outta here?”
You look back at him immediately. “Yeah.”
Eddie studies your face carefully for a second before asking softer, “Wanna come back to my place?”
And maybe it should feel more scandalous than it does. Instead, all you feel is warm trust settling low in your chest when you nod. “Okay.”
The drive to the trailer park is quiet in the nicest way.
One of Eddie’s tapes plays softly through the van speakers while warm night air drifts through the cracked windows. Your head rests lazily against the seat as streetlights pass over Eddie’s face every few seconds, catching the silver of his rings against the steering wheel.
He keeps glancing at you, not subtly either. Every time you catch him, he smiles crookedly to himself before looking back at the road.
By the time he parks outside the trailer, you’re pleasantly floaty enough that you don’t even think twice before following him up the steps. The trailer is dim and familiar from all the times you’ve picked Dustin up after Hellfire. Eddie immediately tosses his keys onto the counter before turning toward you.
“You want somethin’ to drink?”
You shake your head slightly before your eyes catch the cigarette pack sticking halfway out of his jacket pocket.
“…Can I try another one?”
Eddie actually laughs softly under his breath. “You are trouble.”
You smile innocently. “You said that already.”
“Yeah, well.” His eyes drag slowly over your face again. “Still true.”
This time, when he pulls a cigarette loose and lights it, you step closer before he even asks. Eddie notices immediately, something dark and pleased flickering briefly across his expression before he tamps it down.
“C’mere then, sweetheart.”
The pet name lands warm in your stomach now.
You lean in slightly while Eddie lifts the cigarette toward your mouth again, two fingers resting carefully beneath your chin to angle your face upward. The touch alone feels unfairly intimate, especially when his eyes stay fixed on your lips the entire time.
“That’s it,” he murmurs softly as you inhale carefully.
This time, you barely cough, and Eddie’s brows lift immediately. “Well, look at that.”
You laugh lightly through the smoke, a little proud of yourself despite how ridiculous that probably is.
Meanwhile, Eddie looks devastatingly fond. “That’s my girl,” he says quietly.
Your face flushes even more now, like that’s even possible.
“You like it when I say stuff like that, huh?” he asks gently.
You glance down shyly. “Maybe.”
His grin turns downright dangerous. “Jesus Christ.”
Then, before you can recover from that, Eddie disappears briefly toward his bedroom area. You hear drawers opening for a second before he returns holding something glass and obnoxiously large in one hand.
You blink. “What’s that?”
“A bong.”
Your expression must give you away because Eddie immediately laughs. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s just weed.”
“I know what weed is.”
“Mhm.” He drops onto the couch cushions beside you, smirking slightly. “And yet you looked at it like a church girl.”
You nudge his shoulder lightly while he chuckles to himself, already packing it with practiced familiarity. Then he glances sideways at you.
“You wanna try?” There’s no pressure in his voice, just some boyish curiosity.
You hesitate briefly before nodding. “Okay.”
Eddie’s expression softens instantly into something almost unbearably affectionate. “Attagirl.”
Heat floods your face again.
A few minutes later, you’re sitting tucked against his side while he guides you through it patiently, one hand steady against your waist while the other helps position your fingers correctly.
“Slow,” he murmurs. “Yeah, just like that.”
You follow his instructions carefully, trying not to focus too hard on the fact that his mouth is barely inches from yours right now. The hit burns less than the cigarette but still catches in your throat enough to make you cough lightly against his shoulder afterward.
Eddie laughs warmly, rubbing your back. “That wasn’t too bad!”
“You make everything sound embarrassing.”
“That’s because everything you do is cute.”
Your face immediately buries against his shoulder while he laughs harder, wrapping an arm around you automatically like he can’t help himself anymore.
By the time the second hit settles in properly, you are absolutely gone.
You’re not panicking or dizzy or anything nightmare-inducing. Everything just suddenly feels unbelievably funny and soft all at once, like the entire trailer has been wrapped in warm cotton. The music playing quietly from Eddie’s radio sounds deeper somehow, and you cannot stop giggling every time he looks at you.
Which he keeps doing, constantly.
“You good there, sweetheart?” he asks from beside you, trying very hard not to laugh himself.
You stare at him for a second too long before nodding very seriously. “Your eyelashes are really pretty.”
That immediately breaks him. Eddie doubles over laughing, one hand covering his mouth while the other stays loosely around your waist to keep you upright, where you’re practically folded into his side on the couch.
“Oh my god,” he wheezes. “You’re high as a kite.”
You gasp softly like he’s offended you. “No, I’m not.”
“You just complimented my eyelashes like you discovered religion.”
“They are pretty.”
That only makes him laugh harder.
You narrow your eyes at him for approximately two seconds before dissolving into giggles, too, burying your face against his shoulder. Eddie wraps both arms around you automatically, then, still shaking slightly with laughter, he presses a kiss into your hair.
“Godt,” he murmurs fondly. “You’re adorable.”
You hum happily against him, completely content tucked into his chest while his rings drag lazily along your back.
A few minutes later, you start rambling, not about anything important either. Just whatever pops into your head.
“You know what’s weird?” you mumble suddenly.
“What’s weird?”
“The moon.”
Eddie snorts softly. “The moon.”
“Yeah. It just follows you around all the time. That’s weird behavior.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think the moon has behavior.”
“It does.”
“Mhm.”
You tilt your head up to look at him very seriously. “You smell good.”
Eddie visibly short-circuits for a second. “…Thanks.”
“And your hair is soft.”
“You touched my hair for like three seconds.”
“I know,” you sigh dreamily. “It was nice.”
That’s apparently the final straw. Eddie drops his forehead briefly against the top of your head with a groan. “Baby, you gotta stop sayin’ things like that before I lose my damn mind.”
You just smile at him sweetly, which does not help. Eventually, after you nearly fall asleep sitting upright against him, Eddie gently decides you need to move to the bed before your neck ends up permanently bent at a horrifying angle.
“C’mon, pretty girl.”
You blink sleepily up at him. “Hm?”
“Bedtime.”
The second he slides an arm beneath your knees and lifts you into his arms, you immediately wrap yourself around him with a soft little laugh.
Eddie steadies you against his chest easily, though his expression goes dangerously fond all over again when you instinctively nuzzle closer against his neck.
“You’re comfy.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. Like a heating pad.”
Eddie nearly walks directly into the wall laughing.
The mattress dips softly beneath you a moment later as he sets you down carefully onto his bed. You immediately starfishing across it in a way that makes him snort affectionately while crouching beside you.
“You wanna sleep in jeans, sweetheart?”
You make a face. “No.”
“Okay.” His voice stays gentle. “Can I help you change then?”
You nod immediately. That feeling hits Eddie square in the chest every single time.
So he moves slowly. Helping you swap your jeans for a pair of old sweatpants and one of his oversized shirts while you continue mumbling nonsense the entire time.
“Attractive people should legally have warning labels,” you inform him seriously while he helps guide your arm through the sleeve.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm. It’s stressful.”
Eddie laughs softly under his breath. “Poor thing.”
“I’m serious.” You squint at him sleepily. “You’re very handsome. It’s distracting.”
He actually stops moving for a second. “Good lord,” he mutters weakly.
“What?”
“Nothin’, baby.”
By the time you’re finally settled beneath the blankets, your eyes are barely staying open anymore. Eddie starts to pull away toward the edge of the bed before soft fingers catch loosely around his wrist.
“Stay.”
Eddie looks down at you for a long second before his entire expression melts. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he says softly, climbing in beside you. “I’m stayin’.”
By Monday morning, half of Hawkins High has already noticed the jacket.
Not because it’s particularly flashy. Eddie’s leather jacket has always looked a little worn around the sleeves, a little too big on you, where it hangs past your fingertips. But everyone knows who it belongs to. Hellfire patches and metal pins tend to stand out in a school full of pastel sweaters and varsity jackets.
You don’t even think much of it at first while standing at your locker between classes, adjusting your books against your hip as Robin practically materializes beside you with the energy of someone spotting celebrity gossip in real time.
“Oh, my god.”
You blink. “What?”
Robin gestures wildly toward your body. “The jacket.”
Your eyes drop downward like you somehow forgot you were wearing it. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Robin repeats incredulously. “That’s Eddie’s jacket.”
You shrug a little, though warmth immediately creeps into your cheeks anyway. “I got cold Saturday.”
“And he let you keep it?”
The way she says it makes you pause. “…Yeah?”
Robin stares at you for a very long moment before muttering, “That man is so far gone.”
You laugh softly under your breath, trying and failing to suppress your smile while Robin watches the entire thing happen in real time.
“Oh, you like him bad too,” she realizes immediately.
“I do not like him bad.”
“Honey, you are literally wearing his jacket. Is that not the universal equivalent of a declaration?”
Before you can answer, someone whistles from farther down the hallway.
You glance up instinctively just in time to see Eddie leaning beside the cafeteria doors, already beaming, looking at you. More specifically, at you in the jacket. The slow grin that spreads across his face afterward is downright unfair.
Robin physically grabs your arm. “Oh, he’s gonna be unbearable now.”
And she’s right. Because Eddie spends the rest of the day looking at you like he won something.
Every time you pass each other in the hallway, his eyes immediately flick toward the oversized sleeves swallowing your hands before dragging slowly back toward your face with a deeply pleased expression.
At lunch, he hooks two fingers through one of the jacket loops while passing behind your chair and murmurs a quiet, “Looks better on you anyway, sweetheart,” directly into your ear.
You nearly forget how to speak afterward. By the end of the school day, your cheeks hurt from smiling.
Outside, the parking lot buzzes with engines starting and people spilling toward their cars in noisy groups while you make your way down the front steps. And there he is. Leaning against the side of his van with a cigarette resting between his lips, like he’s been waiting a while. The second he notices you walking toward him, his entire face softens.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hi.”
Eddie takes another drag from the cigarette while you stop between his knees, where he’s perched against the van door. “You survive another thrilling academic day?” he asks dryly.
“Barely.”
“Yeah? Tragic.”
You laugh quietly while his eyes drift over your face again, lingering there warm and heavy enough to make your stomach flutter. Then your gaze drops toward the cigarette between his fingers.
A slow smile pulls at his mouth. “What?”
You hesitate briefly before leaning in slightly. “Can I?”
This time, he doesn’t even tease you about it.
He simply lifts the cigarette toward your mouth automatically, eyes fixed steadily on your lips while you lean closer to take a slow drag. The smoke burns less now, familiar enough that you barely cough at all when you exhale.
Eddie watches the entire thing like he’s completely mesmerized.
“Atta’ girl,” he says quietly. The praise settles warm all through you.
Maybe it’s the nicotine. Or the way he’s looking at you. Or the fact that you spent the entire day missing him in a way that feels embarrassing to admit.
But suddenly you just want to kiss him, so you do. You lean forward softly, cigarette smoke still lingering faintly between you as your lips press against his. Eddie makes the quietest sound into your mouth.
His free hand immediately slides against your waist, pulling you closer between his knees while he kisses you back, slower this time, like he’s savoring it. Around you, the parking lot continues moving in noisy blurs, but Eddie kisses you like there’s nobody else there at all.
When you finally pull back slightly, he’s staring at you with completely blown pupils.
For a second, he just looks at you. Then he lets out a quiet laugh under his breath, thumb brushing absentmindedly along your waist where it’s still holding you close.
“Who are you?” he murmurs, almost disbelieving.
Your face warms instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Eddie grins slowly, eyes flicking toward the cigarette still dangling between his fingers before dragging back to your mouth.
“Couple weeks ago you were apologizing for saying hell in front of teachers,” he says softly. “Now you’re stealin’ drags from my cigarettes and kissing me in the school parking lot.”
Heat blooms all through your chest at the way he says it. Not mocking, something more towards pleased. Like he’s enjoying watching this softer, bolder side of you emerge.
You smile shyly despite yourself. “Maybe you’re a bad influence.”
Eddie actually groans at that, dropping his forehead briefly against your shoulder.
“Sweetheart,” he mutters, “you cannot say things like that to me.”
“Why not?” you ask innocently.
Eddie’s thumb hooks beneath your chin immediately.
“Because,” he says quietly, voice rough around the edges now, “you say it like you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
The warmth in your stomach deepens at that familiar tone, at the way he’s looking at you like he’s equal parts obsessed and completely doomed by it. And maybe you do understand a little more now.
Maybe that’s why your smile turns just slightly shy and knowing when you whisper, “Maybe I do.”
Eddie stares at you for half a second like you just physically struck him. Then he laughs softly under his breath, completely gone for you.
“There she is,” he murmurs.
He doesn’t reply with words after that, just hooks his fingers more firmly beneath your chin and drags your mouth back to his.
Eddie kisses like he’s addicted to it already, cigarette smoke still clinging faintly to him while his hand slides warm against your jaw. The parking lot noise fades somewhere far into the background as he tilts his head and kisses you again and again like he can’t help himself anymore.
And when you melt closer against him with a tiny contented sigh, Eddie smiles directly into your mouth, completely, and hopelessly ruined.
badda bing badda boom.
anyyywayyyyy, hope you all enjoyed.... i have a surprise coming at 11pm >:)
description: calling all my alt baddies!! this one’s for you. you are THAAAAT girl: dark, magnetic, and somehow just slightly out of reach. eddie's been into you since high school; he just didn’t realize how down bad he was until you finally let him in. wink wink.
pairing: eddie x you (fem!reader)
tags: obsessed!eddie, alt/goth reader, big sister/maternal reader, tarot card readings, crystal bitch reader, down bad eddie, eddie's a MUNCH, orange cat x black cat energy, eddie is whipped, reader has him in a chokehold, he's staring constantly, teasing & banter as flirting, eddie's got some piercings...., mutual pining (she's quieter about it)
TW: NSFW (18+) minors do not interact!!!!!, PiV, unprotected, sick parent reference, mild alcohol use, eddie being down bad
WC: 8.6k
A/N: AHHHHH! okay, this request came in from my beloved @bitterestwillow and i am OBSESSED with how it came out!! i love alt/goth reader sososooso much. and munch eddie always gets me good. reblogs are always appreciated <3 i hope you all enjoy!!
Eddie's halfway through a rant about spell slots and unfair dice rolls when it happens. Not dramatically, not with thunder or some cinematic cue. Just the low, smooth rumble of an engine that doesn’t belong in the Hawkins High parking lot.
Eddie pauses mid-sentence.
He knows cars. Not in a polished, mechanic kind of way, but in a this-one-sounds-like-it-might-die-if-you-look-at-it-wrong way. His van fits that category perfectly.
But this one doesn’t, this one purrs. His head turns before he even realizes he’s looking. And then he sees you.
You pull into the lot like you own it, like the cracked pavement and rusted bike racks were built for your arrival.
The car itself is enough to draw attention, a gleaming, black 1967 Chevy Impala that looks almost too clean for Hawkins.
But Eddie doesn’t stay focused on the car for long, because you step out. And suddenly, the rest of the world just dulls.
Your hair hits first. Long, jet black, falling in uneven, deliberate layers, choppy like a wolf cut that’s grown out just enough to look effortless. Your bangs sit heavy across your forehead, slightly parted, like you cut them yourself and didn’t care if anyone approved.
Then the piercings. The glint of your eyebrow barbell catches the sunlight, subtle but sharp. The septum ring follows, something that would look out of place on anyone else in Hawkins, but somehow looks right on you.
Your arms are bare, and that’s where it really gets him.
Tattoos. Not one or two hidden pieces. No, you’ve got a collection. Ink crawling up your arms, across your shoulders, disappearing beneath the fabric of your top. Dark lines, bold shapes, some delicate, some heavy. None of them accidental.
And your body…Eddie actually forgets how to think for a second.
You’re built in a way that doesn’t apologize. Curves, confidence, presence. The kind of body that makes people look twice and then pretend they didn’t.
You slam the car door shut with a solid thunk, sunglasses pushed up into your hair, and lean casually against the hood like you’ve done this a hundred times, because you have. You’re not new to Hawkins. You’re known.
“—and if you multiclass too early, you’re basically screwing yourself for late game—”
“Munson?”
Eddie doesn’t answer.
“Munson.”
Gareth snaps his fingers in front of his face, and Eddie blinks hard, like someone just pulled him out of a dream.
“What?” he says, too quick, too distracted.
Gareth follows his line of sight. “…oh.”
A couple of the Hellfire guys turn. “Dude,” Jeff mutters.
“Right?” Gareth adds under his breath.
Eddie doesn’t respond, because now his brain is trying to catch up to recognition. You’re not just some girl, you’re that girl.
You sat two rows behind him in sophomore English. Wore all black even back then, doodled in your notebook instead of taking notes.
You never raised your hand, but when you did speak, it was sharp, precise. People didn’t mess with you, not because you were loud, but because you didn’t need to be.
You graduated. Disappeared into whatever came after Hawkins High. And somehow came back… like this.
“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, almost to himself.
Because you’ve changed. Not in a way that makes you unrecognizable. but in a way that makes you feel finished.
Like you grew into exactly who you were always supposed to be. And he can’t stop staring.
The school doors swing open, and the final cluster of Hellfire members start spilling out, loud and animated.
Your brother is in the middle of them, mid-argument about something nerdy and passionate, hands moving as he talks.
You spot him instantly, and your entire posture softens just a fraction. Not enough for most people to notice, but Eddie does.
You straighten, push off the hood, and lift a hand in a small wave. Your brother lights up, breaks away from the group, jogging over like you’re the only thing that matters in that moment.
You ruffle his hair when he gets close, saying something Eddie can’t hear, but he catches the grin you give him. It’s different from the rest of your expression; warmer, private, protective.
Something in Eddie’s chest tightens unexpectedly. He’s still staring when your brother says something that makes you glance up. Right at him. Direct fucking eye contact.
It’s brief. Maybe a second, two at most. But it hits. There’s recognition there. A flicker of oh, I know you. Your head tilts slightly, like you’re placing him.
Eddie forgets how to stand like a normal person.
Then, you smirk. Not big, but just enough to let him know you remember.
And then you look away, like it didn’t matter nearly as much as it just did to him.
“Okay, yeah,” Gareth mutters beside him. “You’re gone. You’re not coming back from that.”
Eddie exhales slowly, still watching as you open the passenger door for your brother, leaning in to say something else. He laughs, loud and easy, before climbing in.
You circle back to the driver’s side, sliding in like you belong behind that wheel. The engine turns over again, smooth and low, and Eddie feels something strange settle under his ribs.
Not just attraction. Not just curiosity. Something more specific. Pure, undivided interest.
“Munson,” Jeff says, nudging him. “You know her, right?”
Eddie doesn’t look away as the Impala pulls out of the lot.
“…yeah,” he says slowly.
Then, quieter, almost to himself, “Not well enough.”
Your brother disappears into the comic shop like he’s been summoned.
The bell above the door jingles once, twice, and then he’s gone, already mid-conversation with someone inside about campaigns or comics or something equally important in his world.
You don’t follow, you never do. Not enough to make him feel crowded, but just enough to know he’s somewhere tucked close.
Lucky for you, Lady Laveous' shop is right next door.
The metaphysical shop is quieter. Dimmer. It smells faintly of incense and something earthy, like old wood and dried herbs. Wind chimes shift lazily near the entrance, brushing together in soft, irregular notes as you step inside.
You fit here. Not in a try-hard way, not like someone playing dress-up. Like you belong to the space just as much as the shelves do.
Today's outfit is black-on-black, naturally. A fitted tank layered under a sheer, long-sleeve mesh top that clings to your arms, your tattoos visible beneath it like artwork behind glass.
Low-rise black jeans hug your hips, a studded belt slung carelessly through the loops. Rings on nearly every finger. Chunky boots that echo softly against the wooden floor.
Your hair falls straight down your back today, the choppy layers settling naturally, bangs framing your face just enough to give you that permanently unimpressed look.
You don’t look like you’re trying, which is exactly why it works. You move slowly through the shop, fingers brushing over shelves.
Crystals arranged in small clusters. Tarot decks are stacked neatly. Little handwritten labels explaining properties in looping script.
You pause at a tray of polished stones, picking one up between your fingers, turning it in the low light.
“You actually know what that does,” a voice says behind you, “or are you just vibing?”
You don’t turn right away. You recognize the voice first. Then, you glance over your shoulder.
Eddie stands a few feet behind you, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket like he’s trying to look casual and failing just a little. His eyes flick from the crystal in your hand back to your face. He grins.
“You look like you know what you’re doing,” he adds, like that explains his presence here at all.
You raise a brow, turning fully now, the crystal still balanced between your fingers.
“I do,” you say simply. You tilt your head, studying him the same way he’s clearly been studying you.
“And you,” you continue, voice calm, a little amused, “look like you don’t.”
He lets out a short laugh, nodding once like fair enough. “Yeah, no, that’s… painfully accurate.”
You hum softly, turning back to the tray, setting the crystal down with a quiet click.
“So what is it?” he asks, stepping a little closer, eyes flicking back to the stones. “Like—this one specifically. What’s it do?”
You glance down. “Black tourmaline,” you say. “Protection. Grounding. Absorbs negative energy.”
Eddie’s brows lift like you just told him it shoots lasers. “No shit.”
You glance at him again, just barely smirking. “Afraid of bad vibes, Munson?”
“Constantly,” he says without missing a beat. “I’m basically a magnet for ‘em.”
You let out a quiet breath that almost passes as a laugh. Eddie notices, causing a small flicker of something, hope maybe, in his eyes.
“So, what—” he gestures vaguely to the shelves, “—you’re into all of this? Crystals, tarot, the whole… mystical starter pack?”
Your fingers trail along the edge of the display as you move to the next section.
“Tarot’s not a starter pack,” you correct, tone even. “It’s a practice.”
Eddie follows you without thinking about it.
“Okay, yeah, sorry,” he says quickly. “Didn’t mean to disrespect the, uh, craft.”
You glance at him again. There’s something earnest in it. He’s teasing, yeah, but he’s also genuinely curious.
You pick up a deck of tarot cards, flipping the box over in your hands.
“You ever had a reading?” you ask.
He snorts. “Me? No. I feel like that’d end badly.”
“How?”
He shrugs, stepping a little closer, eyes flicking down to the cards in your hands.
“I don’t know,” he says. “Feels like I’d pull something dramatic. Like—” he gestures vaguely, “—death. Doom. Tragic ending. Whole thing.”
You hum thoughtfully. “That’s not what that card means.”
He blinks. “…seriously?”
You nod once, setting the deck back down.
“Most people think tarot’s about predicting the future,” you say. “It’s not. It’s more about reflection, patterns. What you’re already moving toward.”
Eddie watches you as you speak, something quieter settling into his expression.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “That’s actually kinda cool.” You shrug lightly, like it’s obvious.
Then you turn toward him fully, arms crossing loosely over your chest, eyes dragging over him in a way that’s just pointed enough to make him shift.
“So,” you say.
His attention snaps right back to your face.
“Why are you here, Munson?” you ask, voice smooth, a hint of something playful under it. “You don’t strike me as the crystal type.”
He huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, alright, you got me.”
He glances toward the window, like the answer’s sitting out there.
“Your car,” he says finally, nodding once. “Saw it parked outside the comic shop.”
Your brows lift slightly. “And?”
He looks back at you, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“And I figured,” he says, a little softer now, “I’d come say hi.”
You hold his gaze for a second longer than necessary. Then, a slow, deliberate smirk.
“Hi, Eddie.”
He exhales through a grin, like he just won something he didn’t realize he was playing for.
“Hi,” he echoes.
The bell above Lady Laveous’ door gives a soft chime as you push it open again, Eddie trailing just a step behind you, like he didn’t even question it. Next door is louder, brighter.
The comic shop hums with overlapping conversations, pages flipping, someone arguing passionately about continuity like it’s life or death. The smell of paper and ink hits immediately, grounding in a completely different way.
You scan the room once and find him instantly.
Your brother is exactly where you expected, sitting cross-legged on the floor against one of the aisles, a stack of comics fanned out in front of him.
Will Byers is beside him, leaning in close, both of them mid-discussion like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
“…I’m telling you, the Dark Phoenix arc is—”
“—no, I know, but this issue—”
You don’t interrupt. You just walk over, boots quiet against the floor, and stop a few feet away.
He notices you anyway, like he always does. His head snaps up, face lighting instantly.
“Wait—hold on—” he says quickly to Will, scrambling a little as he gathers one of the comics. “You have to see this—”
You crouch down without hesitation, dropping into a kneel in front of him, elbows resting casually on your thigh as he shoves the comic into your hands.
Your whole presence shifts. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Softer around the edges; focused, patient.
He starts explaining immediately, finger tapping at a panel, words coming fast and excited, and you actually listen.
Eyes tracking where he points, nodding along, asking a quiet question here and there like you’re fully in it with him. Not humoring him, but engaging.
Eddie notices.
He lingers a few steps back at first, watching the way you lean in, the way your voice drops just slightly when you respond, the way your brother looks at you like you’re the most important person in the room.
It does something weird to his chest. Your brother glances up mid-sentence and then spots him.
“Eddie!” he says, a grin breaking across his face. Eddie straightens a little, caught, then lifts a hand in an easy wave.
“Hey, man,” he says, stepping closer now. “What’s up?”
“Nothing—just—” your brother gestures wildly to the comics, like that explains everything. “We’re talking about X-Men—”
“Shocking,” Eddie deadpans, but there’s no bite to it, just warmth. He looks at your brother a little more closely for a second.
“You doing alright?” he asks, quieter now, something more intentional under it.
Your brother nods quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
Eddie holds that for a second, like he’s making sure. Then he smiles again, softer this time.
“Good,” he says simply.
You catch it; the genuine care and concern. Your eyes flick up to Eddie for just a second, something unreadable passing through your expression before you look back down at the comic in your hands.
“…so she basically loses control here?” you ask your brother, tapping the page.
“Yeah, but it’s like—more complicated than that—”
And just like that, you’re back in it.
Eddie stays. Leans casually against the end of the aisle, arms crossed, watching the two of you like he’s stumbled into something he wasn’t expecting but doesn’t want to interrupt.
Time passes without anyone really noticing. “Alright,” you say finally, tapping the comic closed and handing it back. “We should go.”
Your brother groans immediately. “Five more minutes—”
You give him a look, not harsh, just firm. He sighs dramatically, already gathering his things.
“Fine,” he mutters, but there’s no real resistance in it.
You stand, brushing your hands off lightly, adjusting the rings on your fingers out of habit.
Eddie pushes off the shelf. “Heading out?” he asks, like he already knows the answer.
You nod once. “Yeah.”
You reach into your pocket and pull something out. Eddie’s brows knit slightly as you step closer, taking his hand without asking, turning it palm-up. And placing the crystal there.
Black tourmaline. It sits dark and solid against his skin.
“For your bad vibes,” you say, tone light, just a hint of a smirk pulling at your mouth.
Eddie lets out a quiet laugh, curling his fingers around it instinctively.
“Damn,” he says. “Didn’t even have to buy it, I’m winning today.”
You hum softly. “Don’t get used to it.”
His grin widens.
Then you add, almost casually, “Let me know if you want a tarot reading sometime.”
It sounds offhand, like you’re not thinking too hard about it. But your fingers linger just a second too long when you let go of his hand.
Long enough for him to feel something shift. He glances down at his palm again.
The crystal. And, something else.
A small, crumpled piece of paper was tucked beneath it. Eddie looks back up. You’re already turning away, grabbing your brother’s bag, and nudging him toward the door.
“Come on,” you say. “Before you start another debate.”
He follows, still talking, still mid-thought.
The bell jingles as you push the door open. And just before you step out, you glance back. Quick and sharp, that same knowing smirk from earlier. Then you’re gone.
The door swings shut behind you. Eddie stands there for a second, unmoving, the noise of the shop rushing back in around him like he just resurfaced.
Gareth appears at his shoulder out of nowhere.
“…did that just happen?” he says slowly.
Eddie doesn’t answer. He just unfolds the paper, revealing your number. His grin comes back, slower this time. A little disbelieving.
He looks down at the crystal in his hand, then back at the door you just walked out of.
“…yeah,” he mutters.
Then, to himself, “I’m definitely getting that reading.”
The house is quiet in a way that isn’t peaceful. It’s careful, measured; you know it the second you step inside.
Your brother drops his things near the door, already halfway into another thought, but you’re only half-listening now, your attention pulled down the hallway where a soft light spills from your mother’s room.
The door is cracked open, and you glance in as you pass. She’s there, propped gently against pillows, smaller than you remember even from this morning.
The hospice aide sits beside her, speaking in a low, steady voice, adjusting something at her side with practiced care.
Your mom’s eyes flick toward the doorway, toward you. You don’t linger. You offer a small, quiet smile instead.
“Hey,” you say softly. It’s enough, it has to be. She gives the faintest nod in return, something tired but still there, still her, and that’s all you need before you move on. You don’t bring the outside world in here, you never do.
Your bedroom door closes behind you with a soft click. And just like that, it’s yours again.
Your space is darker, more lived-in. Clothes draped over a chair, boots kicked near the wall, jewelry scattered across your dresser. A deck of tarot cards sits where you left it, slightly askew, like you’d been in the middle of something earlier and just stopped.
You exhale slowly and drop onto the edge of your bed. And then, your phone rings. You don’t even need to check, you just know.
You pick it up anyway, slowly raising it before bringing it to your ear, leaning back onto your mattress.
“That was quick,” you say, voice low, a little amused. “Didn’t even give the crystal time to work.”
Eddie laughs softly and a little breathless, like he’s been debating whether you'd answer or not.
“Hey, I’m just being proactive,” he says. “Can’t risk the bad vibes getting to me before I secure my tarot appointment.”
You smile, just barely, staring up at your ceiling.
“Is that what this is?” you ask. “Scheduling?”
“Mm,” he hums. “Or—” a pause, then a little shift in his tone, more careful now, “—I was thinking maybe a drink.”
He pauses.
“Or,” he adds quickly, like he knows exactly who he’s talking to, “graveyard date. I don’t know, it feels like your vibe.”
A quiet laugh slips out of you, soft and genuine.
“You’re learning,” you murmur.
“So is that a yes?” he asks.
You sit up slowly, already reaching for your jacket. “Yeah,” you say simply. “It’s a yes.”
The Hideout smells like cheap beer, cigarette smoke, and something faintly metallic from the stage equipment. It’s not packed tonight, but it’s alive enough.
Music hums low through the speakers, people clustered in small groups, the occasional burst of laughter cutting through the noise.
Eddie holds the door open for you. Not in a showy way, just instinctive. His hand finds the small of your back as you step inside, light, grounding, gone just as quickly as it came. But you feel it.
He guides you toward the bar, fingers brushing yours for a second before pulling away, like he’s testing the line without crossing it.
“What’re you drinking?” he asks.
“Whatever you’re having,” you reply.
He grins at that. “Dangerous answer.”
“Relax,” you say, leaning against the bar. “I can handle it.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he says, already turning to order.
You watch him for a second. The way he moves here is different. Comfortable. Confident in a way that’s rough around the edges but still real. Like this is one of the few places he doesn’t have to perform.
He comes back with two drinks, sliding one toward you. “Figured we’d keep it simple,” he says.
You take it, fingers brushing his again. “Smart.”
You both take a sip. There’s a moment where neither of you speaks. That never lasts long with Eddie, though.
“So,” Eddie says, leaning his elbows against the bar, turning slightly toward you. “Can I ask you something without sounding like a total asshole?”
You glance at him over the rim of your glass. “You can try.”
He huffs a small laugh. “Why’d you come back?” he asks. “I mean—you graduated. Could’ve gone anywhere.”
You don’t answer right away. Your gaze drops to the drink in your hand, the way the light catches the surface.
Then, “My mom,” you say.
“She’s in hospice,” you add, quieter now. “It’s just my brother and me.”
You don’t dress it up, you don’t soften it. You just let it sit there. Eddie nods slowly, something in his expression shifting, settling into something deeper.
“Yeah,” he says after a second. “I—uh…”
He trails off, like he’s searching for the right thing and coming up short. So he doesn’t force it. Instead, he leans a little closer, voice softer.
“I'm sorry, really,” he says.
You glance at him again, studying him for a second longer this time.
“You always this respectful?” you ask lightly, shifting the weight of the moment just enough.
He smiles, relief flickering through it. “Only when I’m trying to impress someone,” he says.
You hum, taking another sip. “Is it working?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he says. “I think so.”
You look at him again. And for a second, something unspoken passes between you. He breaks it first, a small grin tugging at his mouth.
“You know,” he adds, “I remember you from school.”
You raise a brow. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” he says. “You sat behind me in English. Used to—” he gestures vaguely, “—draw instead of taking notes.”
You smirk slightly. “I still do that.”
“I figured,” he says. “You always had that whole… don’t-mess-with-me thing going on.”
You tilt your head. “And now?”
His eyes flick over you, slower this time, less subtle. “Now,” he says, voice dipping just a little, “you’ve got that… but worse.”
You let out a quiet breath of a laugh. “Careful, Munson.”
“Why?” he asks, leaning in just a fraction. “You gonna put a spell on me?”
You consider him for a second. “Maybe.”
He grins like he’d let you.
And somehow, in the middle of all of it, the noise, the dim lights, the weight you carry that never fully leaves, there’s something easy settling in your chest.
The music dips into something slower, bass humming low through the floor, and neither of you moves from where you’re standing. Your drinks are half gone. Your shoulders are a little closer than they were a minute ago.
It happens without either of you really clocking it. Eddie glances at you again, like he keeps forgetting you’re actually here and has to double-check.
“You know,” he says, dragging a thumb along the rim of his glass, “I always thought you were cute.”
It’s said casually, too casually. Like he’s trying to pass it off as nothing. You don’t react right away. Just tilt your head, eyes flicking up to meet his.
“Yeah?” you say, tone even.
“Yeah,” he shrugs, but there’s a nervous edge to it now. “Back in school. You just—” he gestures vaguely, searching, “—you had a whole thing going on. Kinda intimidating, but, like… in a hot way.”
You hum softly. Then, just as casually, “Same.”
Eddie blinks. “…what?”
You take a sip of your drink like you didn’t just flip his entire brain upside down.
“I thought you were hot,” you repeat, like it’s obvious. “Still do.”
He stares at you, like actually stares. Like he’s trying to figure out if you’re messing with him.
“You’re—” he lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You’re joking.”
You raise a brow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
He looks at you, really looks this time, and…no. You’re not.
“Holy shit,” he mutters, more to himself than anything.
You smirk, just slightly. “Surprised?”
“Yeah,” he says immediately. “Yeah, a little. I mean—” he gestures to himself, “—look at me.”
“I am,” you say.
That does not help him, at all. He huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair, a little flustered now in a way that’s almost endearing.
“Okay, wait—hold on,” he says. “You’re telling me I could’ve—what—talked to you back then?”
“You did talk,” you remind him. “Just not to me.”
His brows knit. “What?”
“In the cafeteria,” you say, leaning your elbow on the bar, angling toward him. “You were always loud. Always putting on a show for your table. Ranting about something. Music, movies, forced conformity, whatever.”
He winces slightly. “Jesus, that sounds annoying.”
“It wasn’t,” you say. He pauses. You shrug lightly, like it’s nothing.
“It was…” You search for the word, then settle on “entertaining.”
That earns a small, disbelieving smile. “Entertaining,” he repeats.
“Yeah,” you say. “You didn’t care if people were looking at you.”
Eddie lets out a quiet breath. “That’s not entirely true,” he says.
You tilt your head. “No?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I cared. Just—” he shrugs, “—figured if they were gonna look anyway, I might as well give ‘em something.”
“So you turned it into a performance,” you say.
“Exactly,” he nods. “See? You get it.”
“I do,” you murmur.
A small pause settles between you.
Then you add, quieter now, “I liked it.”
That softens something in him, noticeably so.
“Well,” he says, a hint of a grin coming back, “I wish I knew that back then. Might’ve taken my act on the road.”
You roll your eyes slightly, but there’s no bite to it. “Please don’t.”
“Too late,” he says. “I’m already planning my world tour.”
You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I like you better like this,” you say.
He glances at you. “How’s that?”
You nod subtly toward the room, toward everything and nothing at the same time.
“Not trying so hard,” you say. “Still loud. Just… different.”
Eddie’s gaze holds yours for a second longer this time.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Guess I had to grow into it.”
You nod once. Then, almost as an afterthought, “You’re good with my brother.”
It’s not a question.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he says. “He’s a good kid.”
“He is,” you agree.
“He talks about Hellfire a lot,” you add. “Says it’s the one place he doesn’t have to…” You trail off, searching for the word, then just gesture vaguely, “…deal with stuff.”
Eddie’s jaw tightens just a fraction. Not in anger, but in understanding.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “That’s kinda the point.”
You nod, eyes dropping briefly to your drink. When you look back up, there’s something softer in your expression.
“I noticed,” you say. “The way you are with him.”
Eddie shrugs, a little uncomfortable with the attention now.
“I just make sure everyone’s good,” he says. “That’s it.”
“It’s not nothing,” you reply.
He looks at you again, slower this time.
“Thanks,” he says.
You hum lightly, then tilt your head, letting that faint smirk creep back in. “Don’t get too humble on me now,” you add. “It’s not a good look.”
He laughs, tension breaking instantly. “Oh, don’t worry,” he says. “Ego’s still very much intact.”
“Good,” you say, tapping your glass lightly against his. “I’d hate to ruin your whole persona.”
He leans in just slightly, grin crooked.
“You already did that when you told me you thought I was hot.”
You meet him halfway without even realizing it. “Get used to it,” you murmur.
And for a second, it’s just the two of you. Close. Easy. Like this has been building longer than either of you realized.
By the time you step out of The Hideout, the night has settled into that soft, quiet kind of dark Hawkins does so well. Cool air, distant crickets, the low hum of nothing in particular.
Eddie’s a little tipsy. Not sloppy. Just warmer, a little looser. The edges of him softened in a way that makes everything he does feel a little more exaggerated. Which, apparently, includes manners.
“Wait,” he says quickly when you move towards his car.
You pause, turning slightly. He jogs a step ahead of you, circling around like he’s cutting you off on purpose, then reaches for the passenger door of his van.
Your brows lift. “Oh?” you murmur.
Eddie swings the door open with a dramatic little flourish, one hand braced against it, the other extended toward you.
“M’lady,” he says, dipping his head just enough to be ridiculous.
You stare at him for a second. Then, a slow smile.
“You’re drunk,” you say.
“Tipsy,” he corrects, offended. “There’s a difference. This is refined. This is chivalry.”
“Is that what this is?”
“Absolutely,” he says. “Now get in the chariot.”
You huff a quiet laugh, stepping closer. His hand is still extended, and you take it.
He steadies you like you actually need it, guiding you up into the seat with surprising care, like you’re something fragile instead of well, you.
It doesn’t feel patronizing. It feels intentional, sweet in only a way he could muster.
You slide into the van, watching him as he shuts the door gently behind you, then rounds the front, still muttering something under his breath about “proper etiquette” and “respectful gentlemen.”
You’re smiling when he gets in. He notices immediately.
“What?” he asks, glancing at you as he starts the engine.
“Nothing,” you say. “Just didn’t take you for the ‘m’lady’ type.”
He grins, a little crooked. “Hey, I contain multitudes.”
“I can see that.”
The ride is easy. Windows cracked just enough to let the night air drift in, music low on the radio, something soft and scratchy that fills the silence without demanding attention.
Eddie drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely near the gear shift, occasionally tapping along to the rhythm.
Every now and then, his eyes flick toward you, like he’s checking if you’re still there. Like he can’t quite believe you are. When he pulls up outside your house, the engine idles for a second before he shuts it off.
Neither of you moves right away. Then, Eddie exhales, like he’s making a decision.
He hops out first. You don’t even reach for the door handle before it opens. He’s there again, hand extended. This time, there’s less theatrics.
Still a little dramatic, sure, but softer; more him. You take his hand again, stepping down from the van, boots hitting the pavement.
He doesn’t let go immediately. Instead, he shifts, offering you his arm. Full-on elbow bent, posture straightening like he’s about to escort you into a ballroom instead of up a cracked walkway in Hawkins, Indiana.
Your eyes flick to it, then back to him. “You’re serious?” you ask.
“Dead serious,” he says. “A lady should never have to walk unescorted.”
You laugh under your breath, but you slide your arm through his anyway.
“Alright,” you murmur. “Lead the way.”
He does. Slowly, deliberately, like the short walk to your door is some grand procession. His hand comes up lightly over yours, where it rests on his arm, thumb brushing once, absentmindedly.
“You know,” he says as you walk, voice a little softer now, “I definitely would’ve asked you out in high school if I knew you were into me.”
You glance at him. “And miss out on this?” you say. “Tragic.”
He huffs a laugh. “Yeah, alright, fair point.”
You reach your door too quickly. Eddie slows, turning slightly toward you, still holding your arm like he’s not quite ready to let the moment end.
Then, he gently takes your hand and turns it over. And before you can say anything, he dips his head and presses a soft, exaggerated kiss to your knuckles. Warm, lingering just a second too long.
Your breath catches, just slightly. He pulls back, grinning up at you, a little dazed, a little bold.
“Goodnight,” he says.
“Goodnight, Eddie,” you reply, voice quieter now.
He hesitates like he might say something else. He doesn’t.
Instead, he steps back slowly, hands lifting in a small, almost awkward wave before he turns toward his van.
You watch him go. Wait until he’s halfway down the driveway before you call out…“Hey.”
He turns immediately. You lean against your doorframe, arms crossing loosely.
“That reading?” you say.
His grin comes back, bright and immediate. “Yeah?”
“Tomorrow, noon,” you tell him.
He nods once. “Noon,” he echoes. And then he’s gone.
Noon comes sooner than you expect.
The house feels lighter. Not empty, not exactly. Just quieter in a way that doesn’t press in on your chest.
Your mom is out with the hospice nurse, your brother already gone, probably halfway through an argument at the Wheelers' about campaign logistics.
Incense burns low on your dresser, something warm and resinous curling through the air. The windows are cracked, letting in a thin strip of daylight that cuts across your floor, catching on glass bottles, crystals, the edges of your altar.
Your room is… a lot, to say the least. Chaos in the best way.
Dark walls covered in art and prints, layered like you never stopped adding to them. Your bed is unmade but intentional, blankets heavy and textured. Candles sit in clusters, some burned low, some untouched.
Shelves lined with jars and herbs in little labeled bottles. Your altar takes up an entire corner, pentacle mounted above it, small offerings arranged with care.
It looks like a space that’s been built. Lived in.
You, today, are softer.
Black (naturally) low-rise sweats hanging just right on your hips, a fitted cami that shows more skin than you usually let people see.
Your hair is pulled up into a loose ponytail, strands falling out around your face, exposing the spider tattoo at the nape of your neck.
You look… off-duty. Still you, just less armored.
The knock comes right on time. You don’t rush, just pad down the hallway, open the door, and—
Eddie.
He looks like he hasn’t fully recovered from last night. Not in a bad way. Just a little dazed still, like he’s still catching up.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” you echo.
His eyes flick over you, pausing for just a second. Then he clears his throat, like he’s trying to be normal about it.
“You weren’t kidding about noon,” he says.
“You showed up,” you reply.
“Yeah,” he nods. “Didn’t wanna risk missing my appointment.”
You step back, letting him in. “Come on.”
He follows you down the hallway, slower this time, taking things in without trying to be obvious about it. But the second he steps into your room, he stops. Like, actually stops.
“…holy shit.”
You glance back at him, leaning casually against your dresser. “What?”
He turns in a slow circle, taking everything in like he just walked into another dimension.
“You’ve got—” he gestures vaguely, overwhelmed, “—you’ve got, like… the entirety Lady Laveau’s shop in here.”
That pulls a smirk from you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, still looking around. “I mean, this is—this is legit. This isn’t like… a phase or something.”
“It never was,” you say.
He glances at you again. “Clearly,” he mutters.
He moves further in, drawn toward your shelves, your altar, the little details. His fingers hover over things but don’t touch, like he knows better. Then his attention shifts to your record player, a stack of vinyls leaning beside it.
His face lights up. “Oh, okay. Now we’re talking.”
You push off the dresser, walking over as he crouches slightly, flipping through them.
“Type O Negative,” he reads, impressed. “Nice.”
He pulls another. “Deftones—oh, shit.”
You lean against the edge of your desk, arms crossed loosely.
“Are you about to judge me, Munson?”
He glances up. “What? No—”
You tilt your head. “Nu-metal’s frowned upon, remember?” you say. “Thought you metalheads had rules.”
Eddie snorts, straightening. “Yeah, okay, some people are like that,” he says. “Bunch of gatekeeping bullshit.”
You watch him, curious. He shrugs.
“Music’s music,” he adds. “If it sounds good, it sounds good. Who cares what box it fits in?”
You hum softly. “That’s surprisingly open-minded of you.”
“Hey,” he points at you, mock serious, “I contain multitudes. We’ve been over this.”
He sets the record back down carefully, glancing around your room again, slower this time. Taking you in with it.
“You’ve got good taste,” he says.
“In music or… everything else?” you ask.
He looks at you and doesn’t look away. “…both,” he says.
Then he gestures lightly toward your setup, toward the tarot deck resting nearby.
“So,” he says, a little quieter now. “This where the magic happens?”
You push off the desk, stepping closer. “Something like that.”
He nods once, settling in. You move slower now, clearing a space on your desk, pushing aside a few jars, straightening the cloth beneath your hands like this part actually matters.
Eddie leans back in your chair, trying to look relaxed. He’s failing a little.
“So,” you say, glancing up at him, fingers resting lightly on your deck. “What do you want to know?”
He grins immediately. “Lottery numbers.”
You don’t even blink. “No.”
He laughs, shoulders loosening.
“Okay, okay—uh…” he rubs the back of his neck, thinking. “Am I gonna, like, die young in some freak accident?”
You raise a brow. “Seriously?”
“…yeah, alright, fair.”
The humor fades just enough. “Just—” he shrugs, quieter now, “—I don’t know. Where things are going. For me.”
You nod once. “Okay.”
You tap the deck lightly against the table. Once. Twice. Grounding. Then you begin to shuffle, cards sliding cleanly between your fingers.
Eddie watches, trying desperately not to stare. And he's failing miserably.
Your rings catch the light when your hands move. The faint scent of incense clings to everything. The way your expression shifts, focused, almost distant, like you’ve stepped into something he doesn’t fully understand.
He swallows. “You always look like this when you do it?” he asks.
You don’t look up. “Like what?”
“Like you know something I don’t.”
A small pause. Then, “Maybe I do.”
That shuts him up. You split the deck, laying three cards face down between you.
“Three card spread,” you say. “Past, present, future.”
He nods like he understands, but he absolutely does not.
“Don’t freak out,” you add.
“Noted.”
You flip the first card: Five of Pentacles.
You study it for a second, then glance at him.
“Past,” you say. “This is… hardship. Feeling left out. Unsupported. Like you’ve had to figure things out on your own.”
Eddie huffs a quiet breath.
“…okay,” he mutters. “That’s a little on the nose.”
You tilt your head slightly. “Is it wrong?”
“No,” he says quickly. “Just—” a small, disbelieving laugh, “—didn’t expect you to clock me that fast.”
You don’t react. Just nod once, like that’s enough, and move on.
The second card flips: The Magician.
Your fingers pause on it. A hint of a smile tugs at your mouth.
“Present,” you say. “This is you stepping into your own power. Creating something for yourself. Using what you have, even if it’s not much.”
Eddie leans forward now, actually interested.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “That’s… kinda cool.”
You glance at him. “It’s confidence,” you add. “Even if you fake it sometimes.”
He lets out a short laugh. “Yeah, that tracks.”
You hold his gaze for a second. “Still counts.”
Then, you flip the last card and pause, your expression shifting slightly, somewhat amused. Eddie notices immediately.
“What?” he asks. “Is that the death one?”
You shake your head, lips pressing together briefly like you’re holding back a reaction.
“No.”
You turn the card toward him: Two of Cups.
He stares at it. “…that mean anything good?” he asks cautiously.
You lean back slightly, studying him now instead of the cards.
“It’s connection,” you say. “Partnership. Mutual attraction. Something… balanced.”
He blinks, looks at the card again, then back at you.
“…like romantic?” he asks.
You don’t rush the answer. “Could be,” you say. “If you let it.”
There’s a pause, then he laughs. Soft, a little nervous.
“Okay, that’s—” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, “—that’s kinda creepy.”
You raise a brow. “Why?”
He gestures vaguely between the two of you, the room, the timing of all of this.
“I don’t know,” he says. “Feels a little too convenient.”
You hum softly. “Or,” you say, “you’re just noticing it.”
That shuts him up again. He looks at you again this time, eyes widening like a baby deer caught in headlights.
“Yeah,” he says, almost under his breath. You gather the cards slowly, stacking them back together with the same care you started with.
Eddie exhales, leaning back again, but his eyes don’t leave you.
“That was…” he trails off, searching. “Actually, really cool.”
You shrug lightly. “Told you.”
He swallows, that nervous little laugh slipping out again.
“New romantic connection, huh?” His voice is lower than usual, rough at the edges.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Didn’t know the universe was this fucking nosy.”
You don’t answer right away. Just tilt your head, letting the silence stretch until his knee starts bouncing under the desk.
He’s hopelessly gone already: you can see it in the way his gaze keeps dropping to your mouth, then your collarbones, then snapping back up like he’s trying not to get caught.
You stand, slow and deliberate. The incense smoke curls around your bare shoulders as you round the desk.
Eddie’s breath catches when you stop right in front of him, thighs brushing his knees. He looks up at you, dark eyes wide and hungry and a little scared, like he still can’t believe this is real.
You close the gap.
Your fingers slide into his wild curls, tugging just enough to tilt his head back, and you kiss him like you’ve been waiting years for the excuse.
Hard, deep, all tongue and teeth and zero hesitation. Eddie makes this wrecked sound against your mouth, half groan, half sigh, and then he’s kissing you back like a man drowning.
His hands find your waist, gripping hard enough to bruise, pulling you down into his lap so you’re straddling him in the chair. The kiss turns filthy fast. Tongues sliding, lips bitten, breathing shared like you’re trying to climb inside each other.
He breaks it first, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, panting. “Jesus Christ…”
You smirk, lips brushing his. “Still nervous, Munson?”
“Terrified,” he admits, voice wrecked. Then he kisses you again, slower this time, savoring.
His hands slide under the hem of your top, palms hot against your skin. He tugs it up and you let him, lifting your arms so he can pull it off.
The cool air hits your chest, your pierced nipples already tight. Eddie’s eyes go black.
“Fuck,” he breathes, reverent. “You’ve been hiding these?”
He leans in and drags his tongue over one barbell, slow and deliberate, then sucks the whole thing into his mouth. You arch into him with a sharp gasp.
He groans at the taste of you, switching to the other nipple, teasing the metal with his teeth, sucking hard enough to make your thighs clench around his hips.
You yank at his shirt in retaliation. He helps you rip it off, and when it hits the floor, your eyes drop to his chest; silver barbells glinting through both nipples.
A surprised, delighted laugh slips out of you. “Well, well.”
Eddie grins, a little shy, a little cocky. “What, you thought you had the market cornered on being hot and pierced?”
You don’t answer with words. You lean down and flick your tongue over one of his, tugging the barbell gently with your teeth. He hisses, hips bucking up into you.
He stands up with you still wrapped around him like it’s nothing, turns, and lays you back on your bed.
The blankets bunch under you as he kisses down your body: mouth greedy over your tits again, then lower, tongue tracing every tattoo like he’s memorizing them.
He peels your sweats and panties down in one go, tossing them aside. Then he drops to his knees between your spread thighs like a man at church.
“Eddie—”
He doesn’t let you finish. He buries his face in your center like he’s starving for it. No teasing. Just broad, hungry strokes of his tongue, sucking your clit into his mouth, moaning at the taste like he’s the one being pleased. Because he definitely is.
Two thick fingers push inside you without warning, curling hard.
You cry out, back arching. He pulls back just enough to grin up at you, lips shiny.
“What, the college boys aren’t doing this? Not eating this pretty pussy like it’s their last meal?”
You don’t even dignify that with a full sentence. You just grab a fistful of his hair and shove his face back down.
He laughs into your cunt; vibrating, filthy, then doubles down. Licking, sucking, fucking you with his fingers while his tongue works your clit in relentless circles.
He edges you mercilessly.
Every time you get close, thighs shaking, he slows down. Pulls back to kiss your inner thighs, bite the soft skin there, whisper shit like “Not yet, baby. Want you dripping for me.”
Then he dives back in, sucking harder, fingers pumping faster, until you’re right there again, only for him to ease off.
You’re cursing him, begging, hips grinding against his face. He just moans louder, eating you like he could do this for hours.
When he finally lets you tip over, you come so hard your vision whites out, thighs locked around his head, his name ripped from your throat.
He doesn’t stop, just keeps licking you through it, gentler now, until you’re twitching and oversensitive.
Then he’s crawling up your body, kissing you so you taste yourself on his tongue. His jeans are gone (when did he lose those?), cock thick and leaking against your thigh.
He looks down at you, hair wild, mouth swollen, eyes soft even as his voice comes out rough. “You sure?”
You pull him down by the necklace, kissing him hard, all teeth and hunger. “Now, please.”
He doesn’t need telling twice.
He lines up and pushes in; slow at first, thick cock stretching you open inch by inch. You both groan at the same time, the wet sound of him sinking into your soaked center filling the room.
He bottoms out with a broken curse, hips flush against yours, buried to the hilt.
“Fuck, you feel—Jesus Christ,” he rasps, forehead pressed to yours for one shaky second.
Then that sweetness fades into something else entirely.
Eddie pulls back and slams in hard, setting a brutal pace right away. Deep, punishing snaps of his hips that punch the air out of your lungs.
The bed creaks violently beneath you. One of his hands pins your thigh wide open, spreading you obscenely, the other braced beside your head as he fucks you like he’s trying to crawl inside your ribs.
“Harder,” you gasp immediately, nails raking down his back. “Eddie—harder, please—”
He growls, low and feral, and gives it to you. Thrusts so deep and rough your tits bounce with every impact. He drops his mouth to one, sucking hard, teeth grazing the barbell while he rails you.
“Like that?” he pants against your skin. “This what you want, sweetheart? Want me to fuck you stupid?”
He straightens up, grabs both your thighs and folds you nearly in half, pounding into you with short, savage strokes. The wet slap of skin on skin is filthy. Every thrust drags perfectly over that spot inside you until you’re shaking, clawing at his shoulders.
You come hard the first time; clenching around his cock like a vice, soaking him, crying out his name. He fucks you straight through it without slowing, hips snapping relentlessly.
“Again,” he demands, voice rough. “Come on my cock again. Let me feel it.”
He flips you onto your stomach, yanking your hips, face south and ass north.
Then he slams back in, even deeper, one hand fisted tight in your messy ponytail, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. He fucks you like an animal; fast, brutal, and unrelenting.
“Eddie—oh my god—harder!” you sob into the sheets, pushing back to meet every thrust. “Fuck me harder, please—I can take it—”
“Shit, listen to you,” he groans, sounding wrecked. He leans over you, chest to your back, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he gives you exactly what you’re begging for.
The new angle has him hitting so deep it almost hurts, but the pleasure is white-hot. “Greedy little thing. Begging so pretty for me.”
You come a second time like that, screaming into the mattress, fluttering and gushing around him. Your legs shake violently. Eddie doesn’t let up. He reaches under you, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing fast, mean circles.
“Third one,” he growls against your ear. “Give me another. I want you fucking ruined.”
“Harder—Eddie, please, I need it harder—” You’re babbling now, oversensitive and desperate, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels.
He pulls your hair tighter, hips slamming into you so hard the headboard starts smacking the wall. “That’s it, take it. Take every fucking inch.”
You shatter again, harder than before, whole body seizing, vision going white as you soak his cock and thighs. Only then does Eddie finally let himself go.
He buries himself to the hilt with a guttural moan of your name, hips jerking as he spills deep inside you, pulse after pulse of hot cum.
He grinds through it, like he’s trying to push it even deeper, groaning curses and praise against your neck.
You both collapse, sweaty and trembling. Eddie’s weight pins you to the bed, but it feels perfect.
He’s still inside you, softening slowly, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, your neck, the side of your face; soft and reverent now that the storm has passed.
You turn your head just enough to catch his mouth in a lazy, sated kiss.
“Hi,” you murmur, voice hoarse and wrecked.
Eddie chuckles softly against your skin, nuzzling into your hair. “Hi, sweetheart.”
His arms tighten around you, one hand gently stroking down your spine. “You okay? I wasn’t too rough?”
You smile, eyes half-closed, body trembling. “Perfect. Round two later?”
He laughs, warm and low. “So greedy.”
“So, is that a no?”
“Definitely fucking not.”
okay i say this every time but i am OBSESSED WITH THISSSUSHSHS. i feel like i could make any of these one shots a series LMAO.
tags: SHORT (sorry...), somnophilia so dub/noncon, there's literally no plot its just porn, lingerie :p, no aftercare, reader doesn't wake up, not proofread i hate this fic.. this is not how i wanted to come back from hiatus lol
900 sins
you sent yunho that picture hours ago: you standing in front of the mirror in a black lace set, the straps sitting snug on your shoulders while the panties hugged your hips.
you texted him to come home soon before you sat back in bed, scrolling through your phone until your eyes got heavy, drifting off while still wearing the lingerie.
yunho didn't get back until well past midnight, the front door clicking behind him as he drops his bag to the floor, kicking off his shoes.
he pushes the bedroom door open, letting the light from the living room pour in. you're on your stomach, the lace panties riding up enough to show the curve of your ass.
yunho's eyes drag over you, the stress of his schedules melting away as he pulls his shirt off, climbing onto the bed carefully so the mattress doesn't shift.
his hand settles on the back of your thigh, warm palm sliding up until his finger hooks under the edge of the lace. yunho tugs the fabric to the side as he leans down, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder blade, shifting behind you and spreading your legs.
he frees himself from his pants, cock already hard from the sight of you waiting for him. he strokes himself a few times before lining up, pushing into you slowly. yunho lets out a quiet breath through his nose, hips rocking forward until he's buried to the hilt.
you shift a little, causing yunho to still for a second before moving again, thrusting deep enough to make the bed creak under the two of you.
yunho keeps one hand on your hip, holding your panties aside, bringing the other hand up beside your head.
your breathing picks up, small whimpers slipping out despite your eyes being closed. the wet sound of skin on skin filled the quiet room, mixing with his muted grunts.
he leans down closer, lips brushing your ear, "so fucking good for me," he whispers, "even when you're asleep."
your hips twitch back instinctively, causing yunho's grip to tighten as he thrusts harder, chasing the feeling building in his stomach. with the heat of you and how you look in the pretty lingerie, it didn't take long. yunho buries himself deep inside you before cumming with a quiet groan, hips jerking as he fills you up.
he comes down from the high before pulling out of you, slipping the lace panties back into place, ruined with cum now. yunho lays down beside you, pulling the sheets over both of you before draping his arm across your waist, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.
-in which Jeno Lee needs a solution to his mother's matchmaking and you need a front-row view of your favorite artist
Part of the nct dream uni smau series. Can be read as a stand alone but I'd suggest reading at least one of the smau before
part five (last chapter)
Jeno stood in front of your dorm door. Flowers in one hand, your favorite chocolates tucked beside them. In his other hand, a bag of takeout and that cute mystery blind box he saw you eyeing at the shop the other day. The one you'd picked up, stared at for way too long, then put back with this sad little sigh. He'd gone back and spent a couple of bucks on them. Anything to see you smile.
His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. Why was he this nervous? It wasn't even a real relationship. But it felt real. Sure, he did this to get his mom off his back. She was going overboard. Anytime she would see a girl his age she tried playing cupid. But honestly? The whole point was just to have an excuse to talk to you. He didn't even like Ed Sheeran that much. He paid extra for those tickets from some junior just so he could have a reason to text you.
And now you were upset. Because of him. He messed things up, like he always does.
He sighed, raising his hand to knock, when he heard shuffling from the other side. He froze. Thumps, footsteps, something being knocked over, then a muffled giggle. And then a man's voice. It sounded kind of familiar. Low, like someone trying really hard to be quiet. Then he heard it. the soft sound of someone kissing. Followed by your voice.
"You have to leave... He'll be here any second. Do you want to get caught or what?"
Jeno's stomach dropped. His grip tightened around the flowers. Were you cheating on him? Was that why you got so mad when he crossed that boundary? Because there was someone else? Someone who got to hear you call them sweet things while he stood outside your door like an idiot holding gifts you probably didn't even want?
He was still lost in his thoughts when the door swung open. Your roommate stood there. Jisung's older sister. "Oh fuck, Jeno!" She laughed, but it sounded nervous. Her hand shot behind her, shoving someone back. "You scared me."
"Who are you hiding?" His voice came out smaller than he expected. Quieter. Like he didn't actually want to know the answer.
You suddenly appeared next to her, peeking over her shoulder. "Jeno-" Your eyes dropped to his hands. Then went wide. "You did not... Are these for me?"
"Are you cheating on me?" The words left his mouth before he could stop them. His voice cracked slightly. He felt like he might throw up. Why was this affecting him so much? This wasn't real. None of this was supposed to be real. "Just tell me, YN. Is this why you got upset when I called you-"
"No, Jeno... That's not-"
"Then who are you two hiding?"
"It's my boyfriend," your roommate finally said with a sigh, running a hand through her messy hair. "Look, Jeno... you know how Jisung gets. He's already upset that I haven't told him who I'm dating. And if you find out before he does? He'll be so pissy and you know just as well how hard it is to deal with sulky jisung... So that's why... we're trying to keep it quiet."
Jeno blinked. His brain was still catching up. "Oh." He felt his face go hot. Okay, that actually made sense. Your roommate's face was already flushed when she opened the door, and her lipstick was smudged, so yeah, she was probably just hiding her boyfriend. "I'm sorry..."
"No I'm sorry jeno I overreacted." You stepped out the door closing it behind you. He saw you sigh. Like you were trying to find words to describe what you were feeling. "It's hard for me to admit it okay... So bare with me. I just- fuck. I like you okay... And you're so attentive to everything I do. And you take care of me so well. And I just... I like you okay?! And it's so hard for me to... Be normal when you're calling me all these pet names and being so understanding with me."
Jeno just stared at you for a moment before he friend. His eyes crinkle the way they do like a cute puppy. "I... Wow... You like me? For real? I... I was thinking I hurt you... I... I like you so much yn... It was so hard for me to act like a fake boyfriend... I'm sorry I made you doubt and have such a hard time."
You stared at him for a while before throwing yourself into his arms. He stumbled back laughing but holding you with his arms.
"I was so nervous... I literally had to go to the boys. Can you believe it? I took advice from fuck ass chenle and haechan on how to win you back... Hold on a second..." His eyes narrowed. "How did you know I was coming?"
"Huh?" You froze.
Because here was the thing. Jeno had mentioned it in the Dreamies group chat earlier. It was just them who knew he was headed over to your dorm. But he never texted you. Never called your roommate. So how did you both know he was going to be here any moment unless... All of his friends are dating... Wait. IS ONE OF THE GUYS CHEATING?! WHAT THE HELL!
"yn I didn't text you that I was coming over... How did you know I'd be here?" Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. You gulped. "Yn... Who is your roommate dating? Is it one of the boys? yn they all have girlfriends... You know this... I can't... My friends... They can't be cheaters-" Jeno reached for the door knob.
"No jeno it's not-" you grabbed his hand.
"Oh, just fuck this-"
The door opened. The man behind the door stepped out with an exasperated sigh. He was slightly out of breath, his shirt a little wrinkled, and there was the faintest trace of pink lip gloss near his jaw.
Jeno stared at him. His brain short-circuited.
"RENJUN?!
previous - nct masterlist
Note: I knew it's a kinda cliffhanger ending. But bare with me. Because the next part will be on the renjun smau. So anyone who wants to be tagged comment here
— fratboy!han jisung x nerd fem reader in which you are forced to attend a homecoming party that you know you wouldn't like, only to be blocked by a tall, handsome, guy yoi wished you never met that night because fuck—if he doesn't make you all vulnerable. and it doesn't help that you are exactly his type to corrupt, so he'd do anything to lure you on his bed.
content warnings: this fic includes detailed nsfw scenes that may be too much for some readers. includes penetrative sex, alcohol consumption, corruption kink, consensual sex, sex in alcohol influence, degradation, pinv, fingering, multiple orgasm, intense make out session, porn that has barely plot, and other scenes that might be uncomfortable for some readers. please consume what you can, and separate fiction from reality. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
a/n: i'm in my fratboy jisung era. please bear with me. i'm ovulating as fuck.
word count: 5.4k words
The heavy bass from the speakers downstairs throbbed through the wooden floor like a second heartbeat, vibrating up your legs as you stood awkwardly in the corner of the crowded hall, trying to make yourself invisible.
You never wanted to be here tonight.
For days, the thought of this homecoming party had filled you with dread. The loud music, the sweaty bodies grinding against each other, and drunk strangers shouting over the noise. It all made your stomach twist with anxiety. You had planned to stay safe in your dorm, curled up in your favorite oversized hoodie, lost in your literature notes with a warm cup of tea. But your professors had stopped you after class, smiling with fake concern.
"It's a good chance to socialize," they said. "You need to get out more. College isn't just about books."
Then your friends burst into your room like a storm, refusing to hear the word "no."
They raided your closet and forced you into this dress. A tiny, off-the-shoulder black piece you'd bought on a wild impulse months ago but never dared to wear. The soft, stretchy fabric hugged every curve of your body like a second skin. The neckline plunged low, barely covering the tops of your breasts and showing off your delicate collarbones. The hem was dangerously short, stopping just three inches below your ass, making you painfully aware of every little movement of your thighs. Worst of all, the back was completely open, only two thin straps crisscrossing between your shoulder blades, leaving almost your entire back naked to the cool air and wandering eyes.
You felt completely exposed. Naked.
Every few seconds, you nervously tugged at the short hem, trying to make it longer, while your other arm stayed wrapped tightly around your red cup filled with cocktail you haven't took even a sip. The makeup your friends had done made your eyes look bigger and your lips shiny and plump. You kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other, your cheeks burning with embarrassment every time someone brushed past you.
That's when you felt it.
A slow, burning stare cutting straight through the noisy chaos, right at you.
Han Jisung.
He was leaning against the wall across the room, looking relaxed and dangerous at the same time. His dark eyes were locked on you with raw hunger. Like a wolf that had just spotted a soft, trembling lamb. His gaze slowly dragged down your body, taking in the way the tight dress clung to your tits, your waist, and your hips. He stared openly at your bare shoulders, your exposed back, and the way your thighs pressed together under that tiny hem. A slow, predatory smirk tugged at his lips. He tilted his head, his tongue slipping out to wet his bottom lip, as if he was already imagining how sweet you would taste on his tongue.
Your stomach flipped hard. Heat rushed through your body. You quickly looked away, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, but you could still feel his heavy, hungry stare crawling all over your skin.
You barely had time to think about running toward the exit before he started moving.
Jisung pushed through the crowd like he owned every person in it. People moved out of his way without thinking, he was the campus' most famous fuckboy, after all. In just a few seconds, he was standing right in front of you, his tall frame blocking out the rest of the party.
Up close, he smelled intoxicating expensive cologne mixed with whiskey and something darker, something dangerously addictive.
Han Jisung had been watching you for years.
Even though he had fucked his way through half the campus, none of those girls ever truly satisfied the hunger he felt for you. You were his favorite fantasy, the quiet, innocent girl with soft eyes and those cute glasses, always hiding behind books and oversized hoodies. He had spent countless nights stroking his cock to the thought of you, imagining how pretty you would look with your glasses completely fogged up, mouth open in a broken moan while he rammed into you from behind, hard and deep.
And now, here you were. Finally dressed like sin in that tiny black dress that barely covered your ass. All that soft skin on display. All that untouched innocence just waiting to be ruined. He stepped closer, his tall frame crowding you against the wall until there was almost no space left between your bodies.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite little nerd," Jisung drawled, his voice low and dripping with teasing amusement.
You gulped hard, letting out a shaky breath as you squeezed your eyes shut. Of all the people at this party, he was the last one you wanted to see right now. He had been invading your thoughts constantly ever since that day your professor forced you to tutor him. All he did back then was tease you relentlessly, leaning in too close, whispering dirty comments, and looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.
"I almost didn't recognize you without your glasses," he added, his tone playful but laced with something much darker.
You slowly opened your eyes and found him staring straight at you with that hungry gaze. He took his time looking you up and down, eyes lingering on your plunging neckline, the curve of your breasts, and the short hem that barely covered your ass.
"What do you want?" you huffed, trying to sound firm, but your voice came out soft and shaky, the nervousness clear in every word.
Jisung chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest. Instead of answering directly, he tilted his head and gave you a slow, knowing smile.
"What are you doing here, baby?" he asked, voice smooth and teasing. "This isn't exactly your scene, is it? Loud music, drunk people grinding everywhere... I thought you'd rather be curled up somewhere quiet with your books and those cute glasses."
As he spoke, his hand casually slid from your waist to your hip, fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh there. His touch was warm and bold, like he had every right to it. When you didn't pull away, his other hand came up, lightly tracing the bare skin of your lower back with his fingertips, sending little sparks up your spine.
You took a deep breath and tried to push his hand away, but Jisung didn't budge. His fingers stayed stubbornly on your hip.
"It's not exactly my decision why I'm here," you muttered. "My friends dragged me."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. His other hand stayed on your lower back, slowly tracing lazy circles on your bare skin.
"And where exactly are those friends now?" he asked, voice low.
You glanced around the crowded room for a second. Right... where were they? Probably somewhere in the dark corners, making out with whoever they found tonight. It wasn't your problem anymore.
"I don't know," you admitted softly, your cheeks burning. "They disappeared as soon as we got here."
Jisung let out a soft, dark chuckle. Instead of pulling his hands away, he grew bolder. One hand slid higher up your waist, thumb brushing just beneath the curve of your breast, while the other hand gently squeezed your hip, pulling you a little closer to him.
"Is that so?" He asked. "So you plan on standing here in the corner all night, just watching everyone like a lost little kitten?"
As he spoke, his hand slowly traced up your exposed back, fingers gliding over your bare skin with deliberate slowness. The touch was warm and confident, sending shivers racing down your spine.
"Ji—" you gasped, the nickname slipping from your lips before you could stop it.
Jisung's smirk widened instantly, dark and satisfied. He loved how naturally it fell from your mouth. His fingers continued their lazy journey up your back, tracing every inch of exposed skin until they reached the thin straps crossing between your shoulder blades.
He leaned in closer, lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You don't have anything to do here anyway, right? Your friends are gone..."
His hand on your back slid lower, resting dangerously close to the curve of your ass.
"Why don't you come upstairs with me?" he suggested, voice dropping into a husky murmur. "We can spend some time together... just the two of us. Away from all this noise." He paused, letting the words sink in before adding with a wicked smile, "If you know what I mean."
Your heart hammered wildly in your chest. The way he was looking at you, like he wanted to devour you, made your head spin.
Without thinking, you lifted the red cup to your lips and drank the entire contents in one go. You had completely forgotten it was alcohol. The sweet, fruity cocktail burned slightly as it slid down your throat.
It hit you faster than you expected.
Within seconds, a warm, hazy feeling spread through your body. Your cheeks grew hotter, and the room started to feel a little blurrier around the edges. You weren't used to drinking, this was actually your first drink ever, and you had no idea your tolerance was this low. Your head felt light and fuzzy, your limbs strangely warm and heavy at the same time.
Jisung noticed the change immediately. His eyes darkened with amusement and something much more dangerous.
"Easy there," he chuckled softly, steadying you with a firm hand on your waist. "Did you just down the whole cup?"
He tilted your chin up gently with two fingers, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were already getting a little glassy.
"You okay, y/n?" he asked, though the smirk on his lips told you he was enjoying every second of your sudden tipsiness. "Or do you need me to take care of you upstairs even more now?"
You could only nod weakly, a soft, unintelligent little sound escaping your lips instead of actual words. Your head felt too fuzzy to form a proper sentence.
When you tried to push yourself off the wall to create some distance, your legs wobbled dangerously. The room tilted slightly and you almost stumbled forward. One cup. Just one stupid cup of alcohol and you already felt this dizzy and ditzy? Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Jisung reacted instantly. His strong hands grabbed your waist, steadying you before you could fall. He pulled you gently against his chest, holding you upright with surprising gentleness.
"Woah, careful there," he chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through his body into yours. His grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging into your soft curves as he kept you close.
“Come on, pretty girl. Let me take you somewhere quieter.”
Before you could protest, Jisung easily scooped you up into his arms, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. You let out a small surprised gasp and instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as the world spun a little.
He carried you upstairs like you weighed nothing, pushing through the crowd with ease. The loud bass and voices faded behind you as he brought you into a quieter room at the end of the hallway. The moment the door clicked shut, the noise from the party became nothing but a distant hum.
Jisung walked over to the large bed in the center of the room and gently set you down on the edge of it. Your body felt heavy and warm from the alcohol, your head pleasantly fuzzy.
He took a step back and just… watched you.
You were sitting there with heavy, sleepy eyes, your head lolling slightly to the side. The tiny black dress had ridden up dangerously high on your thighs from being carried, exposing even more of your soft skin. Your cheeks were flushed, lips slightly parted, and your breathing was a little uneven.
Jisung’s gaze darkened with raw hunger as he stared at you. He looked like a wolf finally cornered its prey.
He couldn't hold back anymore.
He stepped closer until he was standing between your legs, his hands finally giving in to the hunger he'd been fighting all night. His palms slid slowly up your bare thighs, pushing the tiny hem of your dress even higher until it bunched up around your hips.
"Fuck, baby..." he breathed, voice thick with lust. "You're so soft."
His fingers traced teasing circles on your inner thighs, getting dangerously close to your panties but never quite touching you there yet. He watched your face closely, enjoying every sleepy, hazy reaction you gave him.
You blinked slowly, head still lolling a little, your breathing shallow and uneven. The alcohol made everything feel warmer, slower, and more intense. Every touch from him sent sparks straight to your core.
Jisung leaned down, one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other continued stroking your thighs. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered.
"I've waited years to touch you like this... to have my hands on a good girl like you." His hand on your thigh slid higher, finally brushing over the thin fabric of your panties. He pressed two fingers against your clothed pussy and let out a low groan when he felt how warm and slightly damp you already were.
"See? Your body's already getting wet for me," he murmured, rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit through the fabric. "Even if your pretty little head is too hazy to admit it."
You let out a soft, broken whimper, your thighs trembling around his hand. Jisung smiled darkly, clearly loving how easily you were falling apart.
"Come on, baby... " he coaxed, his voice low and seductive as he kept rubbing you. "You've been thinking about me too, haven't you? Thinking about letting me ruin you... letting me fuck you until you can't even remember your own name."
He kissed the side of your neck, then gently sucked on your skin while his fingers pressed harder against your aching clit.
"Give in to me," he whispered hotly against your throat. "Just say yes... and I'll make you feel so fucking good tonight." His free hand moved up to squeeze your breast through the thin dress, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple.
If you were sober, you probably would've snapped back at him with some sharp reply. But right now, with your head all fuzzy and warm, all you could do was bite your lower lip and slowly shake your head.
Jisung let out a low, amused chuckle. His fingers never stopped moving, still rubbing slow, teasing circles against your soaked panties.
"No?" he asked, voice dripping with fake innocence. "You haven't thought of me touching you like this? Not even once after those tutoring sessions, hm?"
He pressed his fingers harder against your clit, watching your hips twitch involuntarily at the pressure. Your breathing grew heavier, and a tiny, needy whimper slipped past your lips. Jisung leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued his sweet corruption.
"Liar," he whispered, voice dark and husky. "I saw the way you used to squeeze your thighs together whenever I leaned too close to you. I bet you went back to your dorm after every session and touched this pretty little pussy while thinking about me."
His hand slid up from your breast to gently grip your jaw, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to look at him with your sleepy, hazy eyes.
"Tell me the truth, baby," he coaxed, still rubbing your clit in torturously slow circles. "Did you ever finger yourself at night imagining it was my cock instead?"
He leaned down and placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss on your neck, then gently sucked on your skin, leaving a faint mark.
"Don't lie to me... I can feel how wet you are. Your body's already betraying you."
His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth.
But even through your hazy, alcohol-soaked mind, Jisung could tell how stubborn you still were. He sighed and slowly pulled back, removing his hands from your body. The second his touch disappeared, something in you panicked.
Your hand shot out instinctively, fingers grabbing the hem of his shirt tightly, stopping him from stepping away. You looked up at him with wide, glassy bambi eyes, your breath coming out in short, shaky little gasps. Your head was still lolling slightly from the alcohol, but your grip on his shirt was desperate.
You tugged weakly at the fabric, pulling him back toward you.
"Ji... please..." you whispered, voice soft, needy, and trembling.
Jisung froze. The sound of you begging, even that small, broken please, hit him hard. His eyes darkened instantly, a hungry smirk slowly spreading across his lips. He stepped back between your legs, crowding you again. One of his hands came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he tilted your face higher.
"Please what, baby?" he asked, voice low and rough, dripping with satisfaction. "Use your words. Tell me what you want."
You whimpered softly, still tugging at his shirt like you were afraid he'd pull away again. Your thighs pressed together instinctively, the ache between your legs growing unbearable in your hazy state. Jisung leaned down closer, his forehead almost resting against yours. His free hand slid back onto your bare thigh, squeezing the soft flesh possessively.
You licked your glossy lips slowly, your hazy eyes locked onto his with pure desperation. Your voice came out small, shaky, and embarrassingly needy.
"T-touch me please..." you whispered. "It hurts... It's so itchy down there, Ji... Please..."
The moment the words left your mouth, Jisung's eyes flared with raw hunger. A low, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest.
"Fuck..." he breathed, voice thick with lust. "Begging so sweetly already. Does your pretty little pussy ache that badly, baby?"
He didn't make you wait any longer.
Jisung immediately pushed your thighs wider apart and stepped fully between them. One of his hands slid up under your bunched-up dress without hesitation, cupping your soaked pussy over your panties. His fingers pressed firmly against your aching clit and started rubbing slow, deliberate circles.
"Poor baby," he cooed mockingly, eyes never leaving your face. "It's itchy and hurting because you're so fucking wet for me, huh?"
You let out a broken whimper, hips twitching forward into his touch. The relief was instant, but it only made the heat inside you burn hotter. Jisung leaned down, lips brushing against your ear as his fingers kept stroking you through the thin, drenched fabric.
"Such a naughty girl... telling me your pussy hurts and itches," he whispered darkly. "You want me to make it better? Want me to rub this swollen little clit until you cum all over my fingers?"
He slipped his hand inside your panties, finally touching your bare, dripping folds. Two fingers glided easily over your slickness, teasing your entrance before focusing back on your sensitive clit.
"Tell me again," he demanded softly, voice dripping with corruption. "Tell Ji exactly where it hurts... and how you want me to fix it."
You pressed your lips together tightly, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure clouded your hazy mind. Both of your hands flew down to grab Jisung's wrist, desperately guiding his fingers exactly where you needed him.
"Here..." you whispered breathlessly, voice small and needy. "Here... Ji, please..."
Your hips started moving on their own, shyly rolling against his hand as you rode his fingers, chasing the friction your aching pussy craved. Jisung let out a deep, sinful groan at the sight. His dark eyes were glued to where your hips were grinding against his palm like a desperate little slut.
"Fuck, baby..." he rasped, voice thick with lust. Two thick fingers slid between your slick folds, rubbing firm, slow circles directly on your swollen clit. The wet sounds of his fingers playing with your pussy filled the quiet room.
"That's it," he praised softly, watching your face intently. "Use my hand, pretty girl. Show me exactly where it hurts."
Your breath came out in short, whimpering gasps. Your head lolled back slightly, lips parted as you kept grinding against his fingers, your grip on his wrist tightening. Jisung leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your lips.
"You're soaking my fingers, baby," he murmured, voice low and filthy. "Such a messy little thing... Can I kiss you, hm? Tell me I can." He pressed harder against your clit, rubbing faster as he watched you fall apart.
You could barely think straight. The alcohol made everything feel too intense, too good. Your lips parted, letting out soft, needy whimpers while your hands still gripped his wrist tightly, guiding him.With heavy, glassy eyes, you looked up at him and whispered breathlessly.
"Yes... Kiss..."
The words had barely left your mouth before Jisung crashed his lips against yours. He kissed you hungrily, deep and possessive, swallowing every little moan that escaped you. His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting the sweet cocktail still lingering on your tongue as he devoured you. At the same time, his fingers never slowed down, rubbing your dripping pussy faster, harder, making wet, obscene sounds echo in the quiet room.
He groaned into the kiss, the vibration traveling straight through your body. When he finally pulled back just enough to let you breathe, his lips were shiny and his eyes were dark with lust.
"Fuck... you taste so sweet," he rasped against your mouth, still rubbing your clit relentlessly. His fingers suddenly slid lower and teased your entrance, circling it teasingly before slowly pushing one thick finger inside your tight, wet heat.
He swallowed your gasp with another deep kiss, then murmured hotly against your lips.
Your grip on his wrist slowly softened as your whole body began to shake. Jisung could feel it, the way your stomach was tightening, the way your thighs trembled around his hand. Your orgasm was building fast.
Your hips stuttered helplessly against him, losing rhythm as the pleasure became too much.
Without hesitation, Jisung plunged two thick fingers deep inside your soaked pussy, curling them upward to stroke that sensitive spot inside you.
A loud, broken moan spilled from your lips. “Ah—! Fuck… Jisung!”
A sharp gasp tore from your throat. The sudden intense pleasure made your head spin even more. In your haze, you unintentionally bit down hard on Jisung’s lower lip, breaking the skin just enough to draw a tiny bead of blood.
Jisung hissed at the sting, but the sound quickly turned into a deep, filthy groan. His eyes darkened with pure lust as he tasted the metallic tang on his tongue.
“Yes—! Right there!” you cried out, voice shaky and needy. “Please don’t stop… I’m— I’m gonna cum!”
Jisung curled his fingers faster, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust while his thumb rubbed tight, relentless circles on your swollen clit.
“That’s it, baby. Cum for me,” he growled against your lips.
Your whole body tensed up. Your hips jerked wildly as the orgasm crashed over you hard.
Your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers, pulsing and gushing as waves of pleasure ripped through you. Your head fell back, eyes rolling slightly while soft, broken whimpers and moans kept spilling from your lips. Your thighs shook violently around his hand as you rode out every last second of your orgasm.
Jisung watched you with dark, hungry eyes, groaning at how beautifully you fell apart for him.
“Good girl… such a good fucking girl,” he praised, slowly pulling his soaked fingers out of you.
Before you could even catch your breath, Jisung sat down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle him. Your tiny dress was now completely bunched up around your waist.
“Come here, baby,” he rasped, gripping your hips tightly.
He guided your dripping pussy right over his cock, rubbing the swollen head between your slick folds teasingly.
“Dizzy…” you whispered weakly against Jisung’s neck, your voice soft and breathy. You managed to wrap both arms around his shoulders, clinging to him tightly as the room continued to spin.
Jisung cooed at you softly, his tone dripping with fake sweetness and lust.
“Aww, my poor baby’s so dizzy,” he murmured, one hand gently caressing up and down your bare back while the other gripped your hip. “It’s okay… I’ve got you.”
He slowly guided you down onto his cock, the thick head pressing against your soaked entrance. Inch by inch, he eased you lower, stretching your tight walls around him.A shaky, high-pitched moan slipped from your lips as he filled you up. “Ahh… 's so big…”
Jisung groaned deeply, his fingers digging into your soft hips. “Fuck… so tight. You’re squeezing me so well, baby.”
He kept going until he bottomed out inside you, your ass flush against his thighs. He held you there for a moment, letting you adjust to his size while his hand continued stroking your back soothingly.
You murmured and babbled something on his neck that he doesn't understand. “It's okay, baby. I got you. I'll take care of you, yeah?”
Jisung took full control. His hands slid down to your waist, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he slowly lifted you up until only the swollen tip of his cock remained inside your tight pussy.
Then, with one smooth, powerful motion, he slammed you back down hard, burying his entire length deep inside you.
“Ahh—!” you cried out loudly, your head falling forward onto his shoulder as a sharp moan tore from your throat.Jisung groaned deeply, the sound vibrating against your chest. “Fuck… so tight.”
He didn’t rush. He kept the pace slow but devastatingly deep, lifting you up almost all the way off his cock, then slamming you back down onto him with controlled strength. Every thrust made sure you felt every single inch stretching you open.
“Ji—! Ahh…” you moaned breathlessly, your voice shaky and broken with every slam. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as your body bounced on his lap.
He continued the slow, heavy rhythm — lifting you up, repeating the action over and over while your walls flutter around his length, slammjng you down on his lap from time to time, making your ass slap against his thighs with every thrust. The wet, obscene sound of your soaked pussy taking his cock filled the room.
Each thrust punched a broken moan out of you.
“Jisung—! Ahh… fuck…” you whimpered loudly, your head buried in his neck, arms shaking around his shoulders.
He gripped your waist tighter, controlling every movement as he fucked you deep and steady. His lips brushed against your ear, voice low, dark, and dangerously sweet.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” he murmured, slamming you down particularly hard. “Tell me. Say ‘It feels so good, Ji.’”
You only moaned in response, too hazy and overwhelmed to speak properly.
Jisung suddenly stopped moving, holding you still with his cock buried deep inside you. The lack of friction made you whine desperately.
“No… no, please—” you begged, trying to move your hips. He chuckled darkly against your ear, and gripped your hips tight, stopping you from moving.
“Uh-uh. Use your words, y/n.” His voice turned firmer, more commanding. “Tell me it feels good. Say ‘Your cock feels so good inside me, Ji.’ If you don’t… I’ll stop right now and leave you empty and aching.”
You shook your head frantically, panic mixing with the overwhelming need.
“I-it… It feels so good…” you whispered shakily, voice trembling. “Your cock feels so good inside me, Ji… Please don’t stop…”
Jisung smirked and rewarded you by lifting you up again and slamming you back down, but this time he's fucking into you faster.
“Good girl,” he praised, groaning at how tightly you clenched around him. “Now tell me… whose pussy is this?”
Your eyes rolled at the back of your head, hand gripping his hair. You whimpered pathetically, hips twitching.
“Yours…” you moaned loudly, embarrassment burning your cheeks even through the alcohol. “It’s your pussy, Ji… Please—”
Jisung’s eyes darkened as he watched you fall apart on his cock, desperately agreeing to every filthy thing he said. He finally decided he was done holding back.
“Fuck this,” he growled under his breath.In one swift motion, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped you onto your back on the bed. You let out a surprised gasp as your back hit the soft mattress. Before you could even catch your breath, Jisung hovered over you, caging you in with his arms on either side of your head.
He looked down at you with pure hunger, his chain dangling above your face.
“I'm done playing nice for now. I fucking need you wrapped around my cock,” he muttered, voice rough.
He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it over his waist, then pushed his thick cock back inside you in one deep thrust.
“Ahh—!” you moaned loudly, your back arching off the bed.
Jisung didn’t waste any time. He immediately picked up the pace, fucking you harder and faster than before. The slow, controlled thrusts were gone. Now he was pounding into you with deep, relentless strokes, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
You cried out, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He leaned down closer, his hips snapping against yours relentlessly. Every thrust pushed you further up the bed.
“You like that?” he taunted, breathing heavily. “You like when I fuck you like this? Tell me.”
He slammed into you particularly hard, making your eyes roll back.
“Say it,” he demanded, not slowing down even for a second. “Tell me you love getting fucked like a whore.”
His pace was brutal now, fast, deep, unforgoving. The bed creaked loudly beneath you as he fucked you into the mattress, completely unrestrained.
Jisung kept pounding into you relentlessly, his hips snapping against yours with deep, powerful thrusts. The sound of skin slapping wetly filled the room, mixed with your loud, broken moans.But he was losing control fast.
“Fuck… baby,” he groaned, voice strained. His rhythm started to falter as pleasure coiled tight at the base of his spine. “You feel too fucking good… so tight and wet around me.”
He tried to hold back, but it was useless. Every time he buried his cock deep inside you, your warm, slick walls hugged him perfectly. The way your pussy clenched and fluttered around him was driving him insane.
“I’m not gonna last…” he rasped, breathing heavily against your neck. “Your little pussy is squeezing me so hard—shit, I’m gonna cum inside you.”
You were right there with him, trembling violently beneath his body.
“Ji—! Jisung!” you cried out loudly, your voice cracking. “I’m cumming—! Ahh!”
Your walls suddenly clenched tight around his cock as your second orgasm hit you hard. Your back arched sharply off the bed, a loud, shameless moan tearing from your throat while your pussy pulsed and gushed around him.
That was all it took.
“Fuck—!” Jisung groaned deeply, his hips stuttering.
With one final, brutal thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could go and came hard inside you. Thick, hot spurts of cum flooded your pussy, filling you up as he kept grinding into you, riding out his orgasm with shaky breaths and low groans.
He stayed buried deep inside you even after he finished, both of you panting heavily. His body trembled slightly as he pressed his forehead against yours, still twitching inside your cum-filled pussy.
“Shit…” he whispered, voice hoarse.
Jisung stayed buried deep inside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He lifted his head and stared down at your face, his dark eyes drinking in every detail.
Your eyes were closed, lashes resting against your flushed cheeks. Your lips were slightly parted, still swollen from his kisses. Soft, uneven breaths left you as your body slowly relaxed underneath him.
He watched you intently, waiting for your eyes to flutter open… but they didn’t.
Instead, your face slowly softened even more—all the tension melting away as your head lolled slightly to the side. Your body went completely limp in his arms.
Jisung blinked.
“…Baby?” he murmured, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from your face.
No response.
A low, amused chuckle escaped his lips as realization hit him. You had passed out. The combination of alcohol, overwhelming pleasure, and your low tolerance had finally knocked you out cold.
He stayed still for a moment, before slowly pulling out, and laying beside you so he could stare at your peaceful sleeping face properly.
“Fuck…” he whispered, a slow, hungry smirk spreading across his lips. “You really passed out on me?”
He gently traced your bottom lip with his thumb, his gaze darkening with a new wave of desire .Instead of feeling disappointed, something twisted and possessive bloomed in his chest. Having you like this, flushed, marked, filled with his cum, and completely unconscious beneath him, only made him crave you more.
He had finally tasted you… and now he was addicted.
Jisung leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss on your forehead, then whispered against your skin.
“Sleep well, my pretty girl.” His lips found the curve on your neck and sniff against your scent there. “Because when you wake up… I’m nowhere near done with you.”
A/N: I don’t go to the gym cause I’m a lazy hoe but I know they have saunas and showers and shit. I know they probably have separate showers and saunas for men and women. Ask me if I give a fuck….
Gym Crush!Changbin who started going to your gym during your ovulation week because of course he would
Gym Crush!Changbin who benches twice your weight unironically and when you comment on it he tells you he could probably do a set of push ups with you on his back too
Gym Crush!Changbin convinces you to come to the gym stupid early because that’s when it’s the emptiest and you both can ‘focus’
Gym Crush!Changbin who starts spotting your squats and stands a little too close accidentally on purpose
Gym Crush!Changbin makes unsettling eye contact when he takes his shirt off and dabs his sweat with it
Gym Crush!Changbin who’s muscles are so fucking big you want to ride them into the sunset
Gym Crush!Changbin who joins you in the sauna, shorts loosely hanging around his waist as it becomes apparent he is free balling today
Gym Crush!Changbin who agrees you both need a shower and a good fucking before you part ways
Gym Crush!Changbin who wastes no time and sinking you down on his cock and making your moans echo through the empty space
Gym Crush!Changbin who fucks you so hard and so fast you see stars in the first few seconds
Gym Crush!Changbin who can’t seem to stop grabbing handfuls of your ass, spreading the cheeks apart to watch his dick go in and out of you
Gym Crush!Changbin who brings you to your peak without so much as a word, just a cocky smile and a kiss to your back
Gym Crush!Changbin who all but tells you, he’s picking you up for dinner next Friday
Warnings: Dirty talk, slight spanking, oral (f!recieving), p in v, unprotected sex (stay safe guys..), slight size kink, needy bin at the end, slight choking
Authors note: thank you all for being patient hehe, here is the long awaited fic!!! I hope this lives up to y’all’s expectations!!! 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
Great.. just what you needed right now.
You were driving down the freeway to go and see a couple of your friends. Music was blasting as you sang along, enjoying yourself until the engine began to sputter. “No no no no no..!!!”
Sighing, you pull off of the freeway and head to the nearest mechanic shop, hopping out of the car and leaning against the driver side door. You text your friends, extremely disappointed.
Y/N: I’m so sorry guys, I cannot make it tonight. My car decided to be an ass and break on me :( xx
Your friends all replied, disappointed but wishing you luck with getting your car fixed. One of them, Wonhee, asked if you’d like her to pick you up. As the message pings through, you notice a tall man coming over.
He wore a white vest top, a terrible colour if you were a mechanic. Grease and oil stains covered the vest as he stopped in front of you. He held a wrench in one hand, fingers covered with black oil and it made your stomach flip slightly. His dark brown hair was messy as he pushed it back with his free hand, fingers moving efficiently to keep small strands out of his face. He flashes you a smile and it makes your heart race.
“What can I help you with today, darling?” He wonders, popping the hood to see the problem.
Your lips part to say something, but all that leaves is a sharp exhale you didn’t know you were even holding. gulping, you refocus “My car started to make random sputtering sounds, figured it wasn’t normal so I came here..”
Y/N: It’s okay Wonhee, I think I’ll stay here with my car x
If they knew the situation you were in, best believe they’d also stay. You snap back to reality when his deep voice echoes through the garage.
“It sounds like a clogged filter, I’ll get it sorted for you in no time sweetheart. It will only take me an hour.” He states “My names Changbin, you?”
It almost felt as if time had frozen when he stared up at you. Changbins big, beautiful brown orbs staring into yours. “Y- Y/N..”
Changbin smiles as he repeats your name “Y/N, such a pretty name for a pretty lady.” His hands work deftly, cleaning out the clogged filters in your car. You notice his finger movements, his index and ring fingers gliding into one of the pipes. The motion looked frustratingly similar to more intimate actions. You suck in a breath, he notices and chuckles.
“You alright?” Changbin asks, voice laced with genuine concern. You simply nod your head, cheeks flushed as you look away.
Once he’s done, he’s covered with grease and oil. His biceps shone with the liquids. Changbin wiped his forehead with his arm and a splotch of oil rested against it. You chuckle and walk over to him, grabbing a cloth. “You’ve got a little something…”
You gently glide the cloth over his forehead, cleaning him up. You see his features more clearly now, god he looked divine… “there.”
His jaw tightened at your action, eyes now becoming heavy-lidded. Changbin chuckled, staring down at you. “You’re playing a dangerous game darling..”
“Sorry I…-“ You bite your lip softly, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers.
His free hand moves to cup your jaw, tilting your head so you’re looking at him. “Don’t apologise..” He murmurs, eyes raking over your body. He bit his lip softly and caged you against your car.
“Changbin..-“ You manage to call out, breath heavy. Your hands move to rest on his chest, broad and sturdy beneath your palms.
“Sorry pretty.. keep getting distracted.” He whispers, gaze flicking to your lips. Before you can say anything else, his mouth crashes against yours. It’s not gentle, all teeth and tongue. He was hungry..
His kisses move down your neck, sloppy as he nipped at the perfect spots. You let out a whimper and he grins against your skin. “You sound so gorgeous making noises for me darling..~”
Your hand grips at the back of his head, tangling with his hair as you pull him impossibly closer. Changbins hands that were resting on your hips moved up your sides and to your breasts. He squeezed lightly an it made you shiver. “You like that, hm?”
His words made you moan and arch your back into him. He spins you around so you’re pressed up against your car. Changbin growls against your neck as he leaves love bites, hands moving to shove down your pants. He pulls off your underwear too, leaving you bare and exposed to him.
“Fuck sweetheart, you’re dripping..” *He kneels down behind you and grabs at your ass. “All this for me~?” He teases as he lightly spanks you.
“Y- yes…” You whine, desperate for touch and that’s exactly what you get..
Changbins fingers move to gently swipe up your folds, brushing lightly over your clit. This sends a spark through you and you whimper, needy for pleasure. “Just hold on darling, don’t wanna forget this perfect pussy..” He murmurs before diving in and licking a stripe up your folds.
You moan loudly, hands gripping at the top of your car. You’re breath made the window foggy as you stared at your reflection, completely wrecked as he ate you out. Changbin was like a man starved, slurping and devouring you at the perfect pace.
“S- shit I’m gonna-!!” You cry out, tilting your head back breathlessly.
“Cum for me sweetie.. cum all over my face~” He groans, his words making your orgasm flow out of you. Your legs spasm as he holds your hips to support you.
“So good f’me darling..” He chuckles as he drinks every last drop of your orgasm. Standing up, changbin presses against you, hard and twitching. He felt huge..
“You gonna be a good girl and take if for me? Hm?” Changbin whispers in your ear, kissing it softly. You whine in response and he spanks you harshly. “That’s not an answer baby..” He demands.
“Y- yes..! I’ll be good~!” You beg, arching back into him. Changbin groans and chuckles. “Good girl…~”
He pulls down his pants, his erection springing free. Stroking it a few times, he finally presses it against your entrance. “This might hurt a little, okay?”
You nod and as he pushes inside you whine. He leaves gentle kisses along your shoulder and soothes your back with his fingers. “You’re doing so well, just breathe…”
He wasn’t even fully in and you could feel him pressing against your cervix, changbin was huge..
Once he was fully inside of you, he growled against your neck. “Fuck baby.. I’m practically poking out of you..”
Changbin presses his fingers against your stomach, his cock bulging out. He pulls out slightly before slamming back into you. You let out a choked moan, biting your lip.
As he sets a brutal pace, your head tilts back. Changbin takes the advantage and wraps one of his massive biceps around your neck. He pulls you closer to rest on his chest. His thrusts get faster and faster..
“You like that, huh? Wanna be my good girl and let me fuck you whenever?” He grins against your ear as he whispers to you. “What would my boss think about this..? Me fucking this perfect slut right against her car?”
Changbin bites on your earlobe and his thumb snakes around your waist to circle your clit lightly. A tear rolls down your cheek. “B- bin I’m gonna cum~!! Please!!”
His thrusts grow sloppy and he bends you over the bonnet, allowing himself to fall on top of you gently. His chest is pressed against your back as he grinds into you, slow and deep.
“Darling.. please let me cum inside. Please..~”
Changbin all of a sudden became whiny. How could you possibly deny him the satisfaction of cumming inside when he sounds so beautiful. You nod your head and both of you orgasm at the same time. His hot strands paint your walls white as your juices spread against his cock. His forehead rests against your back as he groans, pulling out of you after a few moments.
Changbin kisses your spine and grins, pulling up his pants. “Told you it’d only take an hour..~” He helps you get changed as you are still sensitive and as you’re paying the bill, he slips you his phone number. He looks up at you with a soft smile, very different to his previous actions..
“I really hope to see you again, Y/N.”
And that’s when you knew, you’d be coming to the garage a lot more to get your “car fixed”…
you were innocently checking out your campuses bulletin board, tutoring, roommate wanted, selling weed buy 1 get 1 fre— excuse me?
⤷ contains — ˎˊ˗ swearing, non idol au, drugs (weed), mature jokes, idiot jisungie, all spelling errors on purpose
scan here for group masterlist → 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 ˎˊ˗
pspsp if you asked to be added to the taglist i lowk didnt know if you meant for the fic or my general skz one so lmk if you wanna be added to my skz or general taglist <3
summ: whenever your boyfriends make a mistake big enough for you to break up with them, jisung knows he has a chance.
⋆ pairing: jisung x f!reader
⋆ genre: smut (minors dni)
⋆ tags/cw: friends with benefits, pet names (baby, jagi), really needy jisung, kissing, biting, praise kink?, lots of whining and whimpering, hair pulling, oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstimulation?, coming untouched
⋆ words: 2.6k
a/n: UGH. nobody gets this jisung as i do. i had so much fun writing this fic, so i really hope you can have a good time reading it! istg i’d love to write a pussydrunk jisung so baddd. enjoy this finger licking fic! 😚
you didn’t even knock anymore.
jisung had noticed it a while ago. somewhere between the third and fourth time you showed up past midnight, makeup smudged, already halfway through a complaint before the door was even fully open.
and tonight was no different.
the door shut behind you harder than it needed to. your bag slipped off your shoulder, landing somewhere near the couch. you didn’t even glance at it before you started.
“i swear to god, i’m done this time. like, actually done. i can’t keep doing this-”
“did he forget something again?” jisung asked, sitting up from the couch.
you huffed, tapping your foot against the floor a couple times, hands moving as you talked. “he didn’t forget. he just… didn’t care enough to remember. which is worse, honestly.”
“yeah,” he hummed softly, like he already agreed before you even finished.
and that’s the thing. jisung always agreed with you.
by the time you were halfway through your story—something about dinner, a text that never came, an argument that escalated way too fast—jisung was already setting a glass of water down in front of you.
it was routine by now. you talk, he listens. and when needed, he fills in the silence without interrupting too much.
he settled back onto the couch, watching you with that calm, patient look only he had. head tilted slightly, eyes soft, like he was trying to piece together exactly what kind of hurt you were carrying tonight.
“and then he just- ugh, i don’t even know,” you finished, letting out a frustrated breath as you dropped onto the couch. “it’s like talking to a wall.”
jisung followed a second later, slower this time, sitting beside you. but not too close. not yet.
you sank into the couch, your head tipping slightly toward him. his hands found your arm without asking, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric of your sleeve before stilling. it was almost absent-minded. like he’d done it a hundred times.
because, well, he had.
you took a long sip of water, the kind you actually needed. jisung didn’t look away, like he wanted to make sure you at least did that much. only then did he relax a little, leaning back, his arm resting behind you. close, but still far enough to pass as nothing.
“you’re staring,” you murmured after a moment, not looking at him.
“you’re dramatic,” he shot back easily.
“i’m not-”
“you are,” and now there was a hint of a smile in his voice. “you always come here like it’s the end of the world.”
you huff, nudging his leg with yours. “because it feels like it.”
something uncomfortable slips out of jisung’s throat. he shifts a little closer, and his touch on your arm returns, more present this time. his fingers slide under the fabric.
“does it…?” he asks, quieter.
you hesitate. get a little lost in that light touch before answering.
“…for a moment,” you admit. “and then i come here,” like it’s obvious. “always here.”
something flickers across jisung’s face. brief, almost impossible to catch. he blinks a couple times, surprised. and that tiny reaction tightens something in your chest before he clears his throat.
“yeah,” he murmurs.
his hand moves again. this time more firmly, sliding from your arm to your waist. it pauses there, his breathing turning heavier.
he waits a few tentative seconds, like he’s giving you time to pull away. you don’t. so his hand settles, warm and steady, his thumb tracing slow, almost absent circles.
you don’t say anything. you just stay there.
for a second, jisung freezes mid-beat. then his hand tightens just slightly, pulling you a little closer before he looks for your eyes.
“you’re tense,” he says, voice lower.
“i know,” you sigh. this time, you can actually hear your own heartbeat.
“c’mere.”
it’s not really an order. it comes out soft, automatic. and still, you listen. like you always do.
you close the small gap, letting your shoulder press fully against his, resting your head on him. jisung adjusts without thinking, his arm sliding around you with more certainty this time.
neither of you speaks. the room feels smaller like this, warmer. the air thickens, hard to ignore.
jisung’s thumb keeps moving, slow and repetitive, tracing the same path over and over. his breathing changes first and then his pulse follows.
still, he doesn’t look away from you. he lingers on every detail: your lashes, the shine in your eyes… your lips. those lips he’s spent nights imagining tasting again.
hoping, just a little, that the other guy would mess up enough to leave him an opening.
even if it was just for one night.
but it wasn’t the closeness that finally broke something.
not his hand slowly sliding, finding its way down to your thighs. not the way your legs tensed, pressing together just slightly. not even the shift in the air, charged, different.
it was the way you turned your face toward him, looking up at him with that expression you had no idea unraveled him.
jisung had always been soft with you, but now… there was something else.
your breath stutters when his fingers brush the edge of your skirt. you don’t move away. it doesn’t even cross your mind.
his gaze drops to your lips, no attempt to hide it this time. it lingers long enough for you to notice before lifting back to your eyes. like he’s waiting. like he’s asking without saying it.
his free hand comes up to your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. his fingers stay there, brushing softly, while his eyes search yours.
“tell me to stop,” he says, barely above a whisper.
your heart skips. your lips part, but nothing comes out.
the way he’s touching you right now like it’s nothing, like he’s not pretending. you should stop this. you know you should.
this is the part where you laugh it off, break the tension, get up, say something light so you can pretend this never almost happened.
but… you don’t.
instead, your fingers tighten slightly in the fabric of his shirt, like you didn’t even think about it.
his breath catches.
“you’re not gonna stop me…?” he asks carefully.
there’s disbelief in his voice. like he doesn’t know what to do with this. like having you this close is too much. like it’s not real.
you shake your head, just barely.
that’s all he needs.
jisung smiles a little, eyes narrowing slightly. his messy hair, his glasses slipping down just a bit… everything about him still soft.
too soft for what he’s about to do.
then he leans in. close enough that there’s no space left between you. your breathing mixes, warm, uneven. his thumb brushes your cheek again, slower now. more aware.
his eyes drop to your lips again. and this time, he doesn’t even try to hide it.
the distance disappears in something so light it barely counts. a brush first, just shared breath, like you’re both testing if this is still safe.
the kiss is too soft for everything that’s been building between you.
jisung hesitates against your lips, barely pressing, like he’s still waiting for you to pull away. like at any second you’ll stop this and he’ll have to pretend it never happened.
but when your fingers tighten in his shirt, sliding up to his shoulders, when your breath catches right against his mouth… something in him gives up.
the kiss shifts. not all at once, not rough, but firmer. his lips move with more intention now, like he’s finally letting himself feel instead of holding back.
his hand drops from your cheek to your neck, holding you more securely, pulling you just close enough that there’s no space left. that everything feels full, inevitable.
and your body answers before you can think. you lean into him, closing whatever distance was left. and that’s what finally breaks him.
jisung exhales against your mouth, a low, restrained sound, like he’s been waiting for this longer than he should’ve.
his movements aren’t shy anymore.
still soft, still him, but now there’s hunger. a need he’s not even trying to hide. his fingers press a little tighter into your skin, like he needs to hold onto you, like he’s scared you might disappear.
your name slips out between kisses, barely more than a broken whisper. there’s something about the way he says it that makes everything sharper. more inevitable.
almost without realizing it, he eases you back against the couch. there’s no force, just care, but the moment your back hits the fabric, something shifts.
the kiss deepens.
your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging gently every time he gets more lost in you, every time he presses just a little too much.
his hands start moving with less control. down, up. gripping your thighs like he’s trying to hold back and failing. one slips under your blouse, and the air breaks when his fingers find your skin.
his breathing turns uneven against your ear as he brushes your stomach, moves higher, touches you with a need he can’t hide anymore.
a soft sound escapes you when his fingers slide over your center, still covered by fabric. it’s slow, but enough. you look up and find his eyes bright, lips parted, flushed.
“is this okay?” he murmurs, voice rougher than usual.
you nod without thinking, holding onto him tighter.
his movements grow steadier, more confident. the heat in your stomach builds, pools, harder to ignore. his breaths against your skin, the quiet sounds he can’t hold back. it only makes it worse.
his lips trail down to your neck. soft kisses at first, then wetter, more insistent.
you can feel his impatience in the way he barely bites your skin, in the way he exhales against you like it’s getting harder to stay controlled.
“sungie, slow down…” your head tips back, voice barely a breath.
he pulls back just enough to look at you and smiles. something undone in it.
his hand comes back to your cheek, brushing it with a kind of devotion that clashes with the way his thumb starts moving over you, even through the already damp fabric.
“sorry, it’s just-” he swallows, kissing you again, slower this time. “you look so… good like this… here… with me. let me make you feel good, please.”
your lips part, ready to answer, but the air leaves you in a broken sound when he moves the fabric aside, when there’s nothing between his fingers and you anymore.
his reaction is instant. his mouth opens slightly, surprised, his fingers moving more carefully now, exploring. like he wants to memorize every response.
“you’re already so wet, baby…” he whispers, and there’s a quiet kind of pride in his voice.
he kisses you again, then moves lower, slower this time. you catch the way he smiles a little as he watches your face shift with every bit of pleasure he pulls from you.
his lips trail down: neck, chest, stomach, until he reaches the edge of your skirt. he catches it between his teeth, glancing up at you, waiting.
“sungie…” your voice trembles.
“can i…?” he murmurs, stopping completely. his eyes don’t leave yours. “is this what you want, jagi?”
you hesitate for a second. not because you don’t want it, but because it all feels unreal. nd then you nod.
in one smooth motion, he undoes your skirt, the fabric disappearing somewhere, forgotten. it doesn’t matter anymore.
his hands come back to you, more certain now. his fingers slide over you slowly, deliberately, watching every reaction like it’s the only thing that matters.
he shifts easily on the couch, settling between your legs. you catch the way he wets his lips before leaning in, and your back arches at the first contact.
he starts slow, careful, like he’s learning you. but it doesn’t take long before he loses himself.
your fingers tense, your legs react on their own, and he follows everything. every movement. every sound. each motion of his tongue sends waves through you you can’t control. your nails dig into the couch.
his own sounds mix with yours, vibrating against you, feeding the heat that’s already unbearable. you can feel how he only pulls away when he needs air, then dives right back in like he needs you more than that.
“fuck… jagi, you’re…” his voice breaks between movements, “perfect.”
your hands find his hair, tugging when it gets too much, when every movement pushes you closer. your chest rises and falls unevenly, broken sounds slipping out of you.
“sungie, fuck-” you try, but the words won’t come.
he pulls back just enough to look up at you, letting his fingers take over for a moment. his lips are wet, glasses crooked, hair sticking to his forehead.
but his eyes… completely locked on you.
“am i doing good, baby?” he asks, almost desperate. “don’t stay quiet… please. i want—need to hear you.”
you bite your lip as his fingers move in and out of you steadily. you nod as best as you can, a weak sound slipping out.
that’s enough to break him again.
he goes back to you with more rhythm, more precision. his fingers move with his tongue now, his thumb finding its own pattern. his mouth, his tongue, everything working together in a way that has your head spinning.
your sounds fill the room, and he answers every single one, every reaction pushing him further. the tension building in him too, low in his stomach, making his own breath hitch.
you can feel it. you’re close. and your grip tightens in his hair.
“sungie, ah- i’m so close…”
instead of pulling back, he lets out a pleased sound, picking up just slightly, his own body tightening with it. he doesn’t even need you to touch him. having you like this is enough.
when you come, it hits all at once. your body tenses, shakes, the feeling crashing over you without mercy while he stays right there, holding you through it.
like he needs to see you like this. like it’s all that matters.
“that’s it… that’s it,” he murmurs, more to himself than you.
he doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left. only then does he pull away. and even then, not completely. his own release follows seconds later, quiet, a low sound slipping out as he drops back against the couch, breathing hard.
a small silence settles around you. just your uneven breaths and the distant sound of cars outside.
and for a moment, that’s enough.
until your phone buzzes inside your bag.
jisung snaps out of it almost instantly, turning to you with something between expectation and something… more fragile.
you reach for it, a little clumsy. the second you see the name on the screen—your now ex-boyfriend—you roll your eyes and hang up without hesitation.
and still, jisung can’t help the small flicker of relief.
you sit up slowly, fixing your hair out of habit before looking at him. just like you expected. he’s still looking at you, completely.
you clear your throat, pulling his attention back again.
“do you mind if i stay tonight?” you ask, a small, slightly embarrassed smile tugging at your lips.
ironic, considering what just happened. but that’s how you two work.
jisung shakes his head immediately, maybe too fast, fumbling with his clothes, unable to hide the excitement that crosses his face.
he gets up right away, disappearing into his room and coming back seconds later with towels and that set of pajamas he always keeps for you. like he always knew.
“go take a shower. i’ll make your favorite tea and set up the bed so you can rest,” he says softly, setting everything beside you before heading to the kitchen. “you can pick what we watch tonight!”
he says it like nothing changed. like everything is exactly the same.
and maybe that’s the most dangerous part.
that nothing changed. and still, everything feels different.
you smile a little, that familiar warmth settling back into your chest.
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