#i kind of scrambled to make this before anyone else did

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Firsts

synopsis: a collection of the firsts you have with Aeri <3

cw: it's purely fluff until the end and it's a bit... steamy hehe, fingering, brat! aeri, begging, finger sucking, nipple play, tension(?), if theres anything else please lmk!

word count: 6.5k

notes! hi my loves I hope you enjoy this! It's (lowkey) a continuation of Project: Aeri but I guess you don't have to read it for this to make sense... but you should! It's my first time ever writing smut so pls be kind hehe

lmk how you feel about this if you'd like and if you wanna chat my dms/asks are always open!

ps. the pics are supposed to be from each first hehehe and also also also did anyone catch the 3 sunflowers meaning?? :0

xoxo love youuu

also s/o to my BAE @wintersera thank you for the ideas for the smut (;

First date 

After everything that had happened that night, you two remained in touch and saw each other quite often. The tension between you was clear, lingering in every glance, every playful tease. There was an unspoken fact but both of you had been too nervous to make the first move.

Until now.

After weeks of mutual pining, you finally decided it was time to take the initiative. You couldn’t wait any longer—you wanted her to be yours, officially (of course).

With slightly shaky hands, you clicked on her contact and pressed the call option, your heart racing as you held the phone to your ear– which was new because calling wasn’t foreign for you two.

“Uh, hello?” Aeri’s sweet voice rang through the line, smooth and familiar.

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Hey Aeri, you busy tonight? I, uh... wanted to ask you something”

There was a playful pause on the other end before she giggled. “Hmm... depends. What’s up?”

Your heart raced. “I wanna take you out on a date,” you blurted, a little more direct than you intended.

“Did you call me just to ask me on a date?” she laughed, her voice teasing, followed by a playful sigh. “How old are you, 80?” she teased, obviously enjoying your nervousness.

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay composed despite your pounding heart. “Oh, whatever! Do you want to go on a date or not, Uchinaga?”

“Hmm...” she drew out the sound, clearly toying with you, her tone mischievous. “Let me check my schedule. I might be able to pencil you in...” She trailed off for a moment, and you could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

You couldn’t help but grin, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re such a tease.”

After a brief pause, she broke the silence with a laugh. “Yes! I can, is there like a dress code for this date?”

Your smile widened, the weight in your chest releasing slightly.

“Hmm. just something casual and comfy,” you replied, already mentally planning out the evening. “I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“Not even gonna tell me where we’re going?” she asked, her voice curious.

“Nope!” you said with a teasing grin. “It’s a surprise”

She let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine fine~, I guess I’ll trust you”

With a satisfied sigh, you hung up the phone and immediately began scrambling around your apartment. You grabbed extra pillows and blankets, carefully folding them and setting them aside. Then, you packed your laptop and collected an assortment of snacks and sodas, wanting everything to be perfect for your date.

You made your way down the staircase to the parking lot where your car sat. You pushed down the back seats of your crossover SUV, trying to make the space into a makeshift bed. You arranged the pillows and blankets neatly, trying your best to make it perfect. After placing the snacks and laptop down by one of the pillows, you felt a huge wave of excitement hit you.

Today’s the day

When everything was set, you hopped into your car, but as you started driving, a thought hit you—something was missing. A date wasn’t complete without a little something extra. Smiling to yourself, you made a quick detour to a nearby flower shop, quickly browsing through the fresh bouquets. After a few moments of searching, your eyes landed on the three sunflowers—vibrant, bold, and full of warmth, just like Aeri.

With the small bunch carefully placed on the passenger seat, you felt a surge of excitement. You couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

Finally, you arrived at Aeri’s apartment, your nerves kicking in again as you approached. You quickly texted her a simple, I’m here, before grabbing the sunflowers beside you. But the moment you saw her stepping out of her building, all those nerves melted away.

Dressed in casual sweats and a simple tank top paired with a black jacket, Aeri still managed to take your breath away. Her casual look only made her more radiant, and for a moment, you were speechless.

You hopped out of the car, sunflowers in hand, quickly making your way around to open the door for her.

Her eyes lit up when she spotted the small bouquet. “Are these for me? How’d you know they were my favourite?” she asked, her voice light with surprise.

“Of course they are,” you said, smiling shyly as you handed her the sunflowers. “And honestly I didn’t, they just reminded me of you”

Aeri grinned, holding the bouquet close and inhaling their sweet fragrance. “You’re too sweet, Y/N, and a little cheesy” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

“You look beautiful, by the way” you added ignoring her stupid little comment, your voice coming out softer than expected as you took her in.

She flashed a grin, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself, L/N,” she teased with a playful wink before stepping into the car, making you smile and roll your eyes.

Once you started driving, Aeri glanced over at you, interrupting the light music you had on, “Soo~ can I know where we’re going now, or are you just planning to kidnap me?” She chuckled.

“Damn. You caught me,” you teased back. “But if you keep talking, I might just reconsider and drop you back off.”

“Hey!” she laughed, lightly hitting your arm, and soon both of you were laughing.

“Okay, okay,” you said, not taking long to give in. “I’m taking you to this spot I used to go to when I wanted to relax or reflect on shit or whatever. It’s a pretty special place for me, and I wanted to share it with you… I even set up a little car picnic in the back.” Nervously rubbing the back of your neck before motioning towards the back seat

Aeri’s eyes lit up as she glanced behind her at the pillows and blankets you’d carefully arranged. “Y/N! That’s sooo cute!” she squealed, her excitement contagious as she reached over and gently rubbed your arm. “Thank you,” she added softly

“Yeah- Of course, Aeri,” you responded, your heart swelling at the way she looked at you

When you arrived, the sky was a breathtaking canvas of pinks and oranges, the sun slowly dipping below the horizon. You both made your way to the trunk of your car and you quickly connected your laptop to your hotspot while searching for a movie.

“And we’re watching a movie? You’re seriously the best,” Aeri said, her eyes lighting up as she took in the scene.

“Not just any movie... Deadpool!” you said with a grin, you remembered how it was her favorite movie.

“No way! Now you’re just spoiling me, n/n,” Aeri said, her cheeks dusted with a faint blush.

“Well yeah, nothing less for you Aeri,” you responded, feeling a little shy under her gaze.

The two of you settled into the makeshift bed, propped up against the pillows. Aeri’s head naturally found its place on your shoulder, and as much as you tried to focus on the movie, her familiar sweet scent made it impossible. You could feel her warmth, the weight of her resting against you, and your heart raced despite your best efforts to stay calm.

After a while, Aeri shifted slightly. “Can you lay down? My neck is hurting,” 

You blinked at her, not quite processing what she meant at first.

“Hm?”

“...So I can lay on you?” she clarified, her eyebrows furrowing with a smile

“Oh— duh, yeah, of course,” you stammered, feeling your face heat up. You shifted around, carefully placing one arm behind your head and the other around her, pulling her in slowly. She nestled into the crook of your arm like she belonged there, her body fitting perfectly against yours.

The top of her head rested under your chin, her warmth enveloping you, and everything about the moment felt just right—like it was meant to be.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” Aeri pointed out, still focused on the screen that was on your lap.

“Mm,” you mumbled, trying to play it cool and dismiss it, even though your stupid racing heart was betraying you.

A few moments later, Aeri commented again, her voice light with amusement. “Like, it’s really fast. I can barely hear the movie,” she giggled, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she looked at you. “What’s going on? Am I making you nervous or somethingg~?”

She raised an eyebrow, locking her gaze with yours, and suddenly, you were at a loss for words. The movie continued playing in the background, but you could hardly hear it over the pounding of your heart. You were completely lost in her eyes, your breath catching in your throat.

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Will you.. be my girlfriend?” you finally managed to say, your voice soft, almost a whisper.

Her eyes widened in surprise before softening, something shy and tender was in her expression as she stared at you. For a moment, the playful air between you shifted..  To something serious.

“Is that.. Is that what you really want?” she asked, her voice sincere. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—uncertainty? nervousness?—but it was quickly replaced by warmth.

“Well.. yeah…” you replied, your heart still pounding, feeling more vulnerable than you ever had before.

Aeri’s lips twitched into a smirk, her tone deadpan. “Then no.”

You blinked in surprise, your jaw dropping just as she burst into a fit of laughter.

You realized you had just walked right into her joke, you groaned. “Ahh~ you’re sooo mean,” you huffed, though you were fighting off a laugh of your own. “I take it back,” you added, dramatically turning your head away like a pouting child.

“Nonono~ Y/n~ Wait, I was kiddingggg~” she giggled, practically pouncing on you. Her hands gently grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks between her palms.

“Ask me againnn~” she teased, her voice soft and sing-song as she planted a sweet kiss on your cheek.

Your stomach flipped, but you were determined to keep up the bit. “Nope~,” you pouted again, causing her to giggle even more.

She began peppering your face with soft, feathery kisses. “Ask~ me~ again~” she sang between each word with a kiss while her laughter rang out with each peck.

“Okay, okay!” you finally surrendered, looking up at her with a tender smile. “Will you be my girlfriend?” you asked again, your voice warm and sincere.

“Duh!” Aeri squealed, she couldn’t contain herself as she leaned down, closing the distance between you. Her lips met yours in a deep and longing kiss as you snaked your arm around her waist. Everything in the moment was warm and soft, brimming with excitement. You could feel her seemingly melt into you with the way her hands gently cupped your face, pulling you closer like she’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. (You both were)

You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss—it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.

First I love you

Since getting together, your Friday nights through Sunday mornings were habitually spent at Aeri's apartment. This super early morning was just like the rest. The soft hues of the sunrise peeked through the small gap in her blackout curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. The light stirred both of you awake, but neither of you was quite ready to leave the warmth of the bed. Aeri shuffled lazily, her body repositioning itself into the familiar crook of your neck, her hand resting gently on your chest.

Half-awake, you instinctively wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. Without thinking, you pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to her forehead before sinking back into the comfortable haze of sleep.

An hour (or so) had passed, though it felt like quick moments, before you began to stir again. Your movements awoke Aeri, her body shifting as her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep.

“Mmm,” she muttered, her eyes half-closed as she stretched one arm out lazily, her body snuggling deeper into yours.

You took the opportunity to nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her skin as she wrapped her arm around you tighter.

“Hi, baby~,” you rasped, your voice still thick with sleepiness, your warm breath grazing her neck.

“G’morning,” she replied, her voice equally soft as her hand absentmindedly stroked your hair near your temple.

“Did you sleep well?” you mumbled, your eyes still closed as your leg slid to intertwine with hers, pulling her (impossibly) closer.

“Mhm..~” she hummed, her lips brushing lightly against your forehead in a sleepy kiss, which you returned with a soft kiss to her neck causing her to shutter.

For a while, the two of you lay in a comfortable silence, tangled together in a mess beneath the sheets. You could feel Aeri’s warmth against you, and the steady rhythm of her breathing lulled you back into a peaceful daze.

But then Aeri shifted again, her body stretching out as she let out a soft, tired groan.

“Baby~” she cooed sweetly, “I’m hungry.”

You felt her looking down at you, but your arms were still tightly wrapped around her waist, unwilling to let her go. “Five more minutes?” you whined, your voice muffled as you buried your face in her chest.

She giggled softly, running her fingers through your hair. “Mmm... okay,” she relented, her voice filled with sweetness. She could never say no to you when you looked so adorable, all sleepy and cuddly.

Inevitably, you both fell back asleep, the soft warmth of the morning wrapping around you like a nice blanket. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you awoke again (maybe 20 minutes), but this time  the bed was empty. The absence of Aeri’s warmth made you frown a little, and the quiet clattering from the kitchen telling you where she’d gone.

Groggily, you got up, tidied the bed a bit, and slipped on your house shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen, the smell of doenjang jjigae filled the air, instantly waking you up.

“Aeri~! What’s this?” you mumbled, your voice still heavy with sleep as you stretched, making your way toward her.

She turned toward you with a playful smirk. Dressed in nothing but an (your) oversized t-shirt and panties, she looked effortlessly gorgeous. “Oh, good morning to you too,” she teased. “Your bedhead looks cute.” She ruffled your hair a bit

You grinned lazily, stepping closer to her, grabbing her hand and placing a quick kiss to it. “Oh, I’m glad. I actually styled it just for you,” you quipped before leaning down to plant a quick ‘good morning’ kiss on her lips.

“Oh, really?” she laughed softly, turning back to the stove as if she hadn’t been affected, but you caught the slight blush dusting her cheeks.

“Mmm,” was all you could manage in reply, the smell of the food and the coziness of the morning settling in. You wandered off to turn on the TV, opening up Netflix to put on a drama in the background as you tidied up the apartment that (at this point)  felt just as much yours as hers.

As you sank into the couch, you asked, “Need any help?”

Aeri shook her head, her attention still focused on the stove. “Nope, I’ve got it! I wanted to make you breakfast today.”

You chuckled at her determination in her voice, letting her take charge, though you couldn’t help but watch her out of the corner of your eye.

After a bit, Aeri groaned out an exasperated “Fuck,” and you glanced up from your phone, concerned if she had hurt herself or something.

“What’s happened, baby?” you asked, turning your phone off and setting it aside.

“Oh nothing, I was gonna make you a coffee and myself some green tea, but I just realized I ran out of ocha last week and forgot I didn’t pick any up yesterday, ugh! Like I was supposed to” she huffed, clearly disappointed.

A lightbulb appeared above your head as you were reminded “Oh babe! Check in the freezer,” you said casually. “I noticed you were low a few days ago, so I stopped by the Japanese market on 5th Street and grabbed your favorite. Ahh~ My bad I totally forgot to tell you”

“Ahh see! This is why I love you! Thank you Y/n!” she said enthusiastically.

Aeri continued for a second, her hands still submerged in the water as she was washing the rice. 

You both froze.

Moments passed as you both processed what she had just said,

A teasing smile tugged at your lips as you made your way smoothly from the couch and you leaned against the counter. “You what me, Aeri?”

“Wait no wait!”

The color rose quickly to her cheeks, turning a shade of red you weren’t sure you had ever seen before. “N-nothing!” she stammered, her flustered voice almost a whisper.

You smirked, taking slow steps toward her. Flustered Aeri was a rare and delightful sight. “Mhm... right.”

As she tried to focus back on washing the rice, you snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing a teasing kiss to her neck. “Say it again,” you whispered against her skin, enjoying the way she tensed up slightly in response.

“Oh stop~,” she whined playfully, trying to shrink down, but you weren’t going to let her off the hook.

You turned off the water, spinning her around gently so she was facing you. Before she could protest, you lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her legs and placing your hands on her hips.

“I love you too, Aeri Uchinaga,” you said softly, leaning in until your lips were just inches from hers. “Now say it again.”

The kiss that followed was tender, her lips soft against yours as her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you even closer. When you finally broke the kiss, her eyes met yours, sparkling with a mix of affection and shyness.

“I love you, Y/N L/N,” she repeated, her voice quieter but filled with sincerity.

You grinned, brushing your nose against hers playfully. “Your hands are wet, by the way” you teased.

“Shut up, don’t ruin the moment,” she laughed, wiping her soaking wet hands on the back of your shirt before pulling you back into another kiss.

First time

Finals were just around the corner, and two of your dumbass professors decided to have an exam a week before their scheduled finals.

So, it’s a week before your two exams, and two weeks before your scheduled finals, and you’re about to arrive at Aeri’s place—to study, of course. 

You arrive in a cutoff and sweats, your hair messily tied up, and your glasses on. Aeri couldn’t help but notice how hot you looked.

You smiled as soon as you saw her. “Hi, baby~,” you said, pulling her into a big hug and giving her a quick kiss. She smiled back, squeezing you tight for a second before letting go.

You made your way to your usual spot—the one you had officially claimed months ago. Normally, the comfort of Aeri’s apartment would ease any stress lingering from your day. But today felt different. As you sat down, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, and Aeri (also) couldn’t help but giggle quietly at how frazzled you looked.

Any other day, she’d take the chance to tease you, probably throwing in a playful jab about how cute you were when stressed. But today, she sensed you weren’t in the mood. Instead, Aeri focused on her own work, letting the comfortable silence between you settle in as you both fell into an easy rhythm, side by side. Despite the closeness, it felt like you were worlds apart—your mind tangled up in studying and exams, while Aeri’s gaze drifted over to you every now and then.

Without you noticing, she snapped a few sneaky photos of you as you sat there, brow furrowed in frustration, your lip caught between your teeth in the way it always did when you were deep in concentration. Aeri smiled softly to herself, finding the sight ‘sooo cute’ despite your obvious stress.

Aeri stood in the kitchen, humming softly as she worked on making a quick study break snack, her ears tuned into your rant as you sat at the table, laptop open, books spread out around you.

“I just don’t fucking understand why they’d schedule exams a week before finals week,” you huffed, fingers tapping rapidly on your keyboard, frantically searching the internet for a damn answer on your practice test. “It’s like they did this shit on purpose babe! Like they wanted me to suffer”

Aeri chuckled softly from the kitchen. “Oh yeah! I think I heard they had a meeting on ‘how to make your life terrible’ ” she teased, the playfulness in her voice catching your attention for just a moment.

You barely looked up from your laptop, rolling your eyes while you took your hair out of the bun and ran your fingers through your hair. You continued to vent before going back to your screen. Your eyes were back to being glued to the screen, fingers flying over the keys. “I don’t fucking doubt that, god I feel like like I’m on the brink of losing it if I don’t start retaining this bullshit anytime soon” you muttered.

Aeri’s footsteps padded softly across the kitchen as she finished garnishing the fried tteokboki, setting it down on the table where you were. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said casually, her tone light. “ Maybe you should take a break pretty...”

Your eyes flicked up briefly as you gave her a small, dismissive and tired smile. “I know..” you sighed “I just need to finish this and—”

“You look really hot when you’re focused, you know?” Aeri’s voice dropped slightly, the casual playfulness gone, replaced by something a little more mischievous.

Your fingers paused mid-type, your heart skipping a beat at her comment. “W-what?” you asked, turning your head to meet her gaze.

She smiled, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—something teasing, almost daring. “Almost makes me jealous of that assignment you’re paying so~ much attention to.”

You swallowed, her words slowly sinking in as the tension in the room shifted. “Aeri,” you started, your voice hesitant, but she was already moving closer to you.

She crossed the distance between you in a stride, her fingers brushing lightly against your shoulders as she stood behind you. Her touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark through you as her breasts pressed up against you. “I just can’t get over how good you look tonight,” she murmured, her breath warm against your ear. “Wonder what it would take to get you to pay that kind of attention to me..”

Her fingers traced a slow line down your arms, and you felt your heart race as her hands rested lightly on your shoulders, her thumbs making small circles against your skin. The warmth of her body behind you, the casual confidence in her voice—it was enough to make your mind go blank, the rant you’d been lost in completely forgotten.

“I... I,” you mumbled, but even you could hear how weak your nervous protest sounded.

“Mm,” Aeri hummed softly, interrupting your stuttering as she leaned in, her lips grazing close to your ear. “How ‘bout  just a little break? For me, baby?” she murmured, her fingers brushing your hair aside before placing a lingering kiss on your neck.

The warmth of her body so close to yours made the air feel thicker and heavier. Her hands shifted ever so slightly, sending a shiver up your spine. Your fingers hovered uselessly over the keyboard, your mind entirely abandoning your exams. All you could focus on was her, commanding your attention in a way that no textbook, no deadline, no nothing ever could.

“Ah~ fuck,” you sighed, leaning back into her touch, feeling the tension in your body ease. “I’m all yours,” you murmured, your voice breathy as you tilted your neck slightly, offering her more space.

“That’s my girl..”

She took full advantage, planting soft, lingering kisses from your neck up to your jawline before finally capturing your lips. Unable to resist, you pulled her around into your lap, and she straddled you, the closeness intensifying as both of you sank deeper into the kiss. Your hands instinctively found their way to her back, pressing her closer, while her fingers trailed up to your shoulders and tangled gently in your hair.

Slowly, your hands slid down to her lower back, pausing at the curve of her hips as you pulled her closer. She broke the kiss, her forehead pressing against yours, her breath coming in with shallow and needy gasps and you breathed them in. Her eyes were glazed with desire, a smirk playing at her lips.

“I need you, Y/n,” she whispered, her voice a mix of softness and urgency.

You looked at her, equally breathless, feeling every ounce of longing she held in her gaze. “Fuck~, I need you too,” you murmured in one breath before pulling her back in, your mouths meeting in a kiss that was all heat and intensity, tongues meeting halfway. Your hands roamed her back, tracing along her spine, and a shiver ran through you as her fingers grazed your skin, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

Without breaking contact, you hooked your arms under her legs, lifting her effortlessly as she wrapped her legs around your waist. You walked her down the hallway and managed to open her bedroom door with your foot, carrying her inside until her knees met the edge of the bed, where she let herself fall, pulling you down with her.

You caught yourself just before you landed, her arms still wrapped around your neck, keeping you inches from her lips. She giggled, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Still wanna study?” she purred, her voice teasing.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” you replied, a grin tugging at your lips as you leaned down to press soft, lingering kisses along her neck.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she tilted her head to give you better access. “That’s what I thought,” she murmured, her fingers weaving into your hair, holding you close.

“You’re so annoying,” you muttered playfully, pressing another kiss just below her jaw. Her eyes met yours, a gleam of challenge in them.

“And you like it,” she whispered, pulling you impossibly closer, her fingers tracing gentle patterns down your back.

You hummed in agreement, pressing your forehead against hers again. “Mhm,” you replied, voice low and filled with affection.

Your lips trailed down Aeri’s jaw, planting painfully slow kisses along her neck, each one drawing out a soft sigh from her. You could feel her hands gliding down your back.

Just as you were fully lost in her, her fingers moved lower, grazing along your inner thigh with feather-light touches that sent sparks up your spine and to your core. You let out a quiet gasp, which only made her smile even more, her eyes glinting with mischief.

She let out a teasing laugh as her fingers lingered at the inside of your thigh, not quite giving you what you wanted.

“Aeri…” you breathed out, the heat in your voice making her chuckle softly again.

But instead of moving her hand to where it should be, she slid it back up slowly, bringing it to rest just below your waist.

God she was teasing you

 As she did, you moved your hands up, slipping under her shirt to rest on her waist before slowly sliding higher. Your fingers found the soft curve of her perfect tits, and her breath hitched as your hands squeezed gently.

Her soft, breathy moans fueled you, and you pressed gentle kisses along her collarbone, slowly making your way to the curve of her chest, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath your lips. She arched under your touch, fingers threading through your hair, each sound she made, made you even wetter than you already were.

Letting out a soft sigh, you leaned in, brushing your lips across the peak of her soft perky nipple while using your warm breath to tease her with a smirk. Your free hand found its way to her other nipple, gently pinching it. The cadence of her breath quickened and  her hips began to slowly buck as if searching for some sort of release.

 A satisfied, desire-filled grin spread across your face as you watched your girlfriend unravel, her usually sleek black hair now a tangled mess against the silk pillowcase, her brows knitted in both frustration and neediness.

Aeri’s breaths deepened as your touch sent little shivers through her, her fingers curling around your shoulders, grounding herself against you. Your lips hovered just above her perfectly hard nipple, her skin flushed with anticipation.

“Please,” she whispered, voice barely audible. If you hadn’t been watching her so closely, you probably would have missed it.

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What was that, Aeri?”

She turned her head to the side, (trying to hide as much of herself as she could into the pillow), clearly flustered and embarrassed, before whispering again, “Please…”

Gently, you brought her chin forward, guiding her to look at you. “I can’t help you, baby.. if you don’t use your words. You didn’t seem to have any trouble being mouthy earlier, huh?” You shot her a playful and challenging look.

Her eyes fluttered open and her cheeks flushed even deeper, and she took a breath before meeting your gaze. “Please… suck on my… nipples’”

“That's my good girl” you gave her a smug grin before averting your attention to her chest.

You (finally) insatiably wrapped your lips around her nipple which elicited a gaspy moan

“Fuck..”. Aeri’s head fell back, her nails digging into your shoulders as you continued savoring each bud, your attention fully on Aeri as her gasps filled the room. You smiled against her beautiful tits, feeling the heat radiating from them. Her fingers tangled through your hair even more, making you stay as close as possible as your kisses and gentle nibbles drew more and more breathy moans from her.

Letting one hand roam lower, you found her clit, tracing slow circles with your middle finger through the thin soaked fabric of her panties. Her body responded with each touch, soft and needy sighs slipping past her lips and she began to grind on your fingers needing more than what you were allowing her. You glanced up, catching her expression—a mixture of bliss and anticipation, her eyes half-lidded as she met your gaze with a dazed smile.

“Need something, princess?,” you murmured with a grin and an arrogant glint in your eye, trailing more kisses along her skin, taking your time. Each new touch, every small shift in pressure, had her melting beneath you and her pussy dripping for more.

Aeri secretly loved hated this. Where did this sudden surge of confidence in you come from? Wasn’t she supposed to be the one making you beg and pleading to touch her? Why did the fact that you have her completely under your control make you so fucking hot and her so turned on? UGH! The tables had turned and it was as exhilarating as it was maddening.

“N-no…” she managed, her voice shaky as she bit down on her lip in frustration, fighting to regain some sense of control.

Slowly, you lifted your hand from her now-ruined underwear. “Well, I could just stop here. I mean, I do have to study—

Her hand moved faster than lighting, gripping your wrist firmly, threatening to leave a mark. “Don’t you…fucking…dare,” she breathed 'threateningly', guiding your hand back to her pulsing clit as her hips jutted forward trying to meet you halfway.

“Or what?” You raised an eyebrow, stopping just shy of her needy pussy, knowing you had the upper hand this time. You fucking loved seeing her like this—Her playful bitchiness, unbreakable attitude, all crumbling away because you wouldn’t fuck her like the brat she is.

Suddenly, her bratty facade wavered, and her voice softened. “Please…” Tears threatened to spill as she whispered, arching herself toward your touch trying to find some sort of relief, her voice barely audible. “Mm-Please, I need you…need you to fuck me so bad…” She finally muttered out

You grinned, feeling the satisfaction of winning this round. “Anything you want, my pretty girl,” you said, savoring the way her eyes rolled back with need.

With a quick motion, you rid her of her drenched panties, and your finger began to trace gentle circles around her swollen clit, making her gasp. You ran your hand along her slit to wetten your finger with her juices, taking in each small reaction as her breath quickened, her voice slipping into load moans. Aeri was a complete moaning mess at this point and you haven’t even finished her off yet. Her hair was splayed out and droplets of drool ran down from her chin to her collarbone as her mouth was open.

You lifted her head gently with your free hand, making her meet your gaze. Slowly, you withdrew your long  finger from her wet slick, and before she could protest the missing feeling, you pressed it to her lips, your thumb brushing her chin.

 “Tell me how good you taste, baby,” you cooed, holding her gaze. She drew your finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, ensuring every drop of herself was savored while tears spilled from the creases of her eyes while you fucked her throat with your finger.

With a soft pop, you pulled your finger back, using your thumb to brush the excess salina from her lips. “I taste…so fucking good,” she whispered, breathless, before pulling you in for a kiss, sharing the taste of her with you.

Your tongues danced together as your now lubricated finger found its way back down,  and you teased her entrance briefly before going deeper, making her let out a gasp against your mouth. 

You kept a steady rhythm, her moans mixing with the sound of your movements. Her head fell back, and she guided your mouth to her neck.

Aeri let out a loud moan into your ear, pausing a bit as your digit inched deeper and deeper inside her.

Once fully inside, “You okay?” You asked, your voice laced with genuine concern

“Mhm,” she winced with pleasure “More than okay”

You pulled her back in for a kiss as you continued to keep pumping into her, keeping a steady pace.

The noises from her dripping wet cunt and her loud moans filled her bedroom and she gently pushed your head from her neck/mouth towards her milky white breasts

“Please~ I need you to.. Suck on them” 

Well... Who were you to deny your beautiful girlfriend?

You took one of her perky nubs into your mouth, using your front teeth to slightly nibble on them, causing her to moan louder than before as you felt her tighten around your finger.

“Oh~ Y/n.. please.. Please don’t stop.. I’m so” her sentence was interrupted by another lewd moan as you finger hooked at the right angle, finding her G-spot

“Fuckfuckfuck baby! P-plea~” she let out, her hand digging her nails into the back of your neck and upper back (probably) drawing blood

You pulled your mouth away from her nipple, “Are you going to be my good girl and say my name when you cum?” You said, looking up at her

You noticed she gasped in shock as her nipple suddenly lost the warmth from your mouth, brows furrowing even more

Desperately she tried to push you back on to her nipple, she was so close to her high but needed your mouth so~ badly to reach it.

“Yesyes ah~ fuck baby! I’ll be your good girl and cum.. Ah~ just for you” She used her free hand. desperately rubbing her clit

Your name felt like sweet honey as it rolled off her tongue, you couldn’t help but insatiably pump faster in her. Her moans, the wet sounds from her dripping wet cunt, along with the thought of her screaming your name. You almost finished right then and there.

“Oh fuck, Y/n y/n y/n,” she screamed out like some sort of mantra, “I’m gon-”

“You gonna cum just for me?” You bit into her neck, sucking and marking her as yours while moaning right into her ear.

“Yesyesyes, I’m.. fuck~!  all yours Y/n~!” she yelped, she tightened around your fingers as her juices pooled into the palm of your hand and you gently slowed down the pace to ride her high as long as possible while she cried into your neck.

After a moment, She shuttered from her high and found herself in the crook of your neck for a bit, while both of you caught your breath for a second. She winced a bit as you removed your digit from her wetness and sucked it off quickly before wrapping your arms around her.

Another moment passed and a surge of embarrassment rushed through you as you realized her neighbors most definitely knew your name now. The sole thought of that  made your cheeks heat up.

Moments of silence passed of you both catching your breath, you finally calmed down and  gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before wrapping your arms around her fully. She sighed contentedly, her fingers tracing light, lazy patterns on your shoulder near your back.

In the quiet that followed, with both of you still laying there, you broke the silence. “Are you okay, baby?” you asked, your voice (still) breathless but full of tenderness as you looked down at her.

She nodded, smiling softly as she nuzzled closer. “More than okay,” she murmured, her voice laced with warmth. “Are you okay?

“Yeah” You gave her another kiss on the cheek “ I’m just.. A bit surprised” a sly smile crept on your lips

She looked up at you, sweat glistening off her skin while her hair stuck to her and raised a warning eyebrow as if she was thinking 'watch what you say', “mhm?”

“Ya know... for as mean as you are,  I never expected you to beg like that” you teased

“Oh, you shut the fuck up!” she laughed, giving your shoulder a playful smack, which only prompted you to wrap her up in your arms as a reflexive defense.

“I’m for sure putting you in your place tonight,” she murmured, her voice low and rich with desire as she pulled you in for a deep and needy kiss.

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

-

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

-

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

-

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

-

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

-

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

-

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

-

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

-

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

-

(There's got so much on her mind. 

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

-

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

[faeriekit]

Snow Day

SO IT TURNS OUT @tourettesdog also had a far-frozen based Phic Phight prompt so here's a sister fic of Snowdrift Sanctuary from yesterday okay please and thank you

Tundra peeked around the pillar of ice. Again.

The human was still there.

…Tundra peeked left. Tundra peeked right. No one else had seen them yet.

The human, in a big coat and big boots was squatting in the snow, drawing shapes Tundra couldn’t make out with their finger.

Tundra’s tail wagged. Well. He didn’t have a very long tail, so he mostly butt-wiggled. There’d never been a human at the Far Frozen before!! Tundra had heard of humans — he’d seen depictions and heard stories, sure. But now a human was here. And they lived here.

That was so cool.

So, maybe Tundra wanted to say hi! So what? Mama had said that he should be nice to the human, since they needed help and shelter that the Chief would provide, but they were also new and interesting and they hardly ever had anyone stay with them who wasn’t a yeti ever!! Maybe they’d let Tundra play with them while they were here?

So Tundra got down on his haunches. He crawled over the snowbank, wriggling as he went, taking advantage of his coat that blended into the terrain.

The human didn’t see him at all.

Tundra bared his teeth in a play grin, eyes squinting, tongue caught between his teeth. The human was so close. He crouched down as far as he could. He waited until the human wasn’t looking.

Tundra pounced.

And then there was a flash of green burning through the air, hot and bright and loud. Tundra startled.

He landed in the snow, dazed and off-balance. He could feel a hot spot in his fur—putting his paw to it, Tundra could feel where his fur was burnt to singed ends, the tips of each hair bulbous with char.

There was a steaming hole in the snow behind him.

…Oh.

“HOLY SH—are you okay?? Did I hurt you?? I’m sorry!!” someone shouted. Someone gently turned Tundra’s head, careful not to move him too harshly or too quickly. “Is your head okay? Are you bleeding? Is—“

“…Cool.” Tundra muttered, eyes still stuck to the hole in the snow. That was so strong. Even Avalanche wasn’t that strong, and she beat everyone in the tournament last season. No wonder the chief was in charge of the human ghost, even if there were lots of adults willing to help.  

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the human apologized again, hands on their flat, pink face. Huh. Their hair was white now. When did that happen? “Usually when ghosts sneak up on me, they’re, uh… they’re not usually playing.”

Tundra looked at the human’s flat face and frowned. They got attacked? For real, and not for playing? “That’s mean. I hope you got them.”

The human made a strangled noise. Super weird! “Yeah…yeah. I did.”

“Good,” Tundra decided, back straightening straight up. The human was about as tall as he was, but humans were smaller in general. They were probably older. “If anyone attacks you now, you should get the Chief to eat them, and then they won’t attack you anymore.”

The human made another choked noise. Tundra assumed it was a laugh. He grinned back, pleased with the response, and wriggled back upright. “I’m Tundra! Mama says that you’re older than me even though we’re just as tall as each other! Are you a boy human, or a girl human? Or neither? Or both?!”

“…I’m a boy,” the human said, voice weak. Tundra peered in close at him, trying to see if he’d been injured too, but no; he looked fine, and he got his black hair back too.

“Cool,” said Tunda. “So am I. Arctic is too, but he’s big already, so he doesn’t want to play all the time. Do you like hunting?”

“I’ve…never hunted before.”

Not ever? Tundra gasped. “We can play chase, then, and then the chief can teach you how to hunt! And then we can hunt together!” Tundra scrambled to his feet, excited. “Do you want to stalk Avalanche with me?! She always throws me off, and then we can wrestle!”

The human hesitated.

“Or,” Tundra amended, because the human was still kind of small, “You can watch me stalk Avalanche, and watch us wrestle, and then I can teach you to stalk the chief so that you can wrestle with someone you know is safe.”

The human snorted, the fur cuff from his sleeve hiding his face. “I don’t know…isn’t he busy? You know, being the chief and all…””

“You’re supposed to wrestle your parents,” Tundra assured him, chest fur puffing up with pride. “I used to chew on Mama’s ears all the time when I was a cub. Now Avalanche and Arctic and everyone else can wrestle with me because they’re big enough to know how to stop playing before they squash me flat.”

The human laughed, openly and brightly, and it sounded nice.

Tundra stood so that could he could launch himself back towards the settled part of their little patch of the Infinite Realms. “Come on!!” he shouted, more than eager to play. “Last one there doesn’t get any fish eyes!”

There was a moment of silence—and then they were both rolling in the snow, the human having decided to launch into him!! This was great!! Tundra whooped, feigning bites and wriggling while the human pushed him further into the depths of the snow. The human’s grin was kind of wide and weird without a muzzle, but that wasn’t his fault, and he was having fun!! And so was Tundra!!

And the human-ghost could fly, and Tundra couldn’t, so chasing after him was super fun. They made it all the way back to the settlement in no time flat, dodging other kith and kin—

And running into Mama and Chief Advisor Pritla on accident was worth how much trouble he got into later.

Whoops!

[fragilefangirl]

I do think that Coryo fell in love with Lucy Gray, but i also fully believe that such love would never have been possible had he not be given the near-total control over her fate in the games, and by extension, her fate in the Capitol.

Listen. Here is a boy who has nothing but his last name, posing around pretending like he owned everything while scrambling for a scrap of something. Here is a boy who had to share everything he had ever owned, who was never fully in control of anything except for his words.  Here is a boy, who, due to the lie he's been controlling, can never let anyone in -- not even his pseudo-older sister and not even his most affectionate classmate -- for it poses the risk of being perceived, and potentially punished for his lack of ownership.

And then suddenly this boy -- who's so desperate to own something -- is granted the ownership of another person  a full-pass to control everything about her; her words, her image, her story. And sure, she wasn't his first pick, but the thought of having something gave him a sense of relief and dignity his lies could never give him, and that dignity, that slight restoration of confidence, gave way for that first crack on his chest after being guarded for so long.

And then the person he "owned" showed up, and she was the most interesting person of the pick. She gave the people a show and she made a song on top of it, turning his confidence to pride. I truly believe that had he been assigned to another person, he would not have showed up to the train station, simply due the fact that they were not interesting enough to warrant his  visit -- or his grandma'am's roses. Him showing up to the train wasn't just done in goodwill; it was also a stake of ownership -- it was him, acknowledging to himself that this was something worth owning, and like other things worth owning, it could be taken away from him if he lets his guard slips.

And that becomes the initial foundation to their interaction; the talking, the bringing up food... sure, Lucy Gray was interesting, but he was detached of her charm in those first meeting, seeing her in the lens of how others might measure her and her worth. his main focus was "taking care of her"; making sure his precious thing survived, making sure his ownership of her -- and thus his pride -- will not dissipate.

And then the tributes started plotting to kill him, only to be stopped by Lucy Gray. Sure, for her, he might seem as if he was doing something a kind -- even if useless -- meeting her in this run-down train station, and that perhaps was part of the reason why she defended him, and part of the reason why she stood by him in that Zoo cage. But for Coryo, his visit was calculated, his rose a chip of bargain, his zoo visit a byproduct of refusing to be caught slipping. For him, Lucy Gray stepping up for him was uncalled for, a surprising kindness.

He tried to rationalize it best as he could, but he was stumped. And I think this was when he started to really listen to Lucy Gray, to stop being detached from her. He was his father's son, and he believed in knowing the things he owned in order to properly maintain it. And it was this desire to know that melted his walls, that made him vulnerable, because to understand her fully he opened himself up to be understood, which had never happened before.

I think Coryo did love Lucy Gray, however tainted and terrible that love was. I think it was the first time of him making the effort to perceive someone and be reciprocated back -- fully, thoroughly, and wholeheartedly. It helped (or didn't help?) That Lucy Gray was a poet, that she fed him with pretty words; the only things that -- up until she showed up -- he'd ever truly owned for himself. For him, that connection -- added over the fact that he had "owned her", as everyone else kept saying -- must have felt like a drug. It must have felt intoxicating, to own something so lovely, something that adored him. It must have been a new, exhilarating feeling for Coryo, who never owned anything but worthless scraps and his pretty, pretty words. And yes, that was such a terrible way to put it, but love is many things; it can be terrible too.

I think Coryo loved Lucy Gray, and had they stayed in Capitol, he would have been able to continue to "love her". Billy Taupe was just some name, the Covey some story. What for Lucy Gray was history, was only pretty words for him. For all he chose to believe in, they could be the same pretty words he said; mostly lie, some exaggeration. In the Capitol, she is his, fully. And Coryo can love only what he owns.

But they didn't stay at Capitol, they moved to twelve. Suddenly, all her pretty words were honest and real, something he couldn't ignore, much less control. Suddenly, there was the Covey, and Billy Taupe, and Mayor Lipp, and even if her eyes were for him only he still had to share the rest of her -- her voice, her charm, her poise -- with other people. Twelve highlighted that he'd never truly owned her, we all know that. But here's another thing that twelve highlighted; it was him who chose to be the soldier in a rundown district, him who chose to follow her. If there was any ownership to be had here, it was her that owned him.

And Coryo? He doesn't share, yes, but worse than anything, he despises being owned.

This is where TBOSAS shone its brilliance; president Snow is the way he was not because he is an unfeeling sadist the was Volumnia Gaul is. He was the way he was because of love. Because of the vulnerability that comes with that love, and the refusal to surrender to it. President Snow would not be as ruthless and despicable had he been desensitized, and it was his feelings, his capability to love, that led him to employ some of the most gruesome tactics to win the games.

Here's the heartbreaking thing; once upon a time, Coryo loves Lucy Gray, and that love was true. Here's another heartbreaking thing; that love was built on poison, and its toxic vines ruined him so completely, decimated him so thoroughly, he was reborn anew evil; president Snow would not have happened without Lucy Gray, without Coryo's time in Twelve.

President Snow said, "it's the thing we love most that destroys us," and he said this as a warning to Katniss, yes, but he also said it to Coryo's shadow, standing behind her, who was looking at the back of the Girl on Fire, thinking the wavy black hair and the whispered songs were that of someone else's.

[neteyamkink]

cold neteyam meeting the clan’s sweetheart and having a soft spot for her but tries not to be obvi with it (everyone can lowkey tell though through the little gestures he does) that ends in smut when theyre alone and he wants to corrupt her innocence and reputation👀👀

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHHH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! sorry this took me so long i’m so slow 😭

paring: aged up!neteyam x metkayina reader

warnings: mean neteyam :( (he’s in love though), my first time writing smut in veryyyy long >.<, degrading, use of “slut”, “princess”, “sweetheart, lil corruption kink?, swearing ofc, disgusting smut idfk

At first, you thought it was the new environment making him so distant and rude. Eventually, you started to think it might've been just you, he had no problem talking with anyone else in the clan. Just you. Little did you know the reasoning behind that was that he was in deep denial about his feelings towards you. He hated the way you made him feel so vulnerable and helpless. So he had to hate you, right?

You'd try to reach out to him and try to start a conversation, but he would always turn you down with a, "I'm busy," or, "leave me alone." You couldn't lie it kind of hurt your feelings. everyone loved you, how could he not?

One afternoon most of the young adults and teenagers were hanging around a fire, the sullys and all of your friends included. You sat there crushing up herbs to make spices and listening in on the conversation everyone was having.

"Y/n stop being so quiet," Kumi spoke, you didn't like Kumi very much only because he was a part of ao'nung’s little bully crew.

"I'm busy, I'm listening though," You smiled still trying to be nice to him even though you really just wanted to tell him to fuck off. What can you say though? You were minding your business obviously focused on something else.

"Oh come on since when were you anti-social," Kumi laughs, now he has interrupted the group's conversation and everyone's attention was on you two.

"I'm not, sorry I'll chime in," you quickly said realizing this whole thing was interrupting the group. You hated yourself for apologizing for being busy, but you didn't want to disturb the group and make a big deal out of the whole situation.

"Why are you making her apologize? She's obviously busy dumb ass," Neteyam suddenly chimed in. Your eyes shot up to him, but he was already looking at you. He scrunched up his face and looked away crossing his arms.

"oh no it's okay, neteyam," you scrambled to find the correct words and suddenly your heart was running miles a minute.

"Whatever," he scoffed not bothering to look in your direction. Suddenly your heart felt like it was dropping into your stomach and the frown that was on your face was inescapable.

Later in the day after the fire, you decided you would figure this out. No one is allowed to not like you. Neteyam usually would go into the trees to practice archery late after dinner. Even though he had to learn the ways of these new people he was determined to not forget the ways of his own. How did you know this? Kiri is your new best friend.

Determined to befriend the forest boy you set out into the forest to find him, and of course, he was exactly where Kiri said he would be. You decided to sit back and watch before going up to him. He set up a practice station with a bunch of fruits hanging from trees. You watched him draw back his bow and arrow, His back and arm muscles flexed and his blue skin looked so glossy and smooth under the moonlight. fuck y/n, focus. He released his arrow and it went straight through the fruit and into the tree behind it.

"Impressive," you spoke up slowly walking out of the tree and bushes you were behind. His head snapped in your direction and once he saw who it was he rolled his eyes and took a breath.

"I didn't mean to scare you," you smiled sweetly, attempting to use the charm that had worked on others on him.

"You didn't," he scoffs grabbing an arrow from the group and pulling it through his bow. You thought archery was so cool... and he looked so hot doing it. focus, y/n.

"what are you doing here? how did you find me?" he asks releasing his arrow and landing it perfectly in the middle of the fruit. damn, he's good.

"I came to talk to you about something. Kiri told me where you might be," You spoke stepping a little closer towards him. He didn't look away from his targets.

"I hope you know earlier today was not me defending you. I just don't like kumi," though his tone was even and calm his words were harsh and hurtful. Does he really not like you that much?

"Why are you so mean to me?" You randomly blurted out with a pout formed on your face. Your mouth moved before you could think about what was coming out of it and as soon as the words came out you wanted to shove them right back in. You usually were never this straightforward or harsh with anyone. He turned to you and quirked his brow like he was shocked.

shit was he being too harsh? he thought. He just couldn't stand the way you made him feel. The way the innocent look in your eyes made his insides all tingly. The way that one look made him want to get on top of you and ruin those innocent eyes. fuck those eyes that you're giving him right now. Why do you have to torture him like this?

"Am I really?" he said dropping his bow and taking steps closer and closer toward you. Suddenly your throat was dry and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You took steps back as he got closer, too scared of what you might do if he got any closer. Too scared of what those yellow eyes burning through you might do to you.

"mhm," you hummed, heart racing as if you had just run to the moon and back.

"I can show you mean," he smirked. a gasp left your mouth when your back suddenly bumped into the bark of a tree, he had you cornered. And fuck you don't know what he meant by that but whatever he did you wanted it so badly. He looked as if he was going to eat you alive and my eywa you were begging he would.

"teyam..." you stuttered, putting your hands up to rest on his chest. "Teyam, please," you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were practically begging him to ruin you. your eyes looked up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip slightly jutted out in a pout. Fuck you drove him crazy.

"Say it," the smirk plastered on his lips makes your knees grow weak and you almost buckle over.

You can speak so you just push his neck down and smash your lips onto his. He wastes no time responding and kissing back. His sweet lips were rough against yours and the only thing you both could think about is why you didn't do this sooner. Everyone saw the tension between you two except for you. In the back of your mind, you knew you had been waiting for this moment.

"jump," he mumbles against your lips. You're quick to follow his instructions and jump, his strong arms catch you his hands have a firm grip cupping your ass. The tree you are pushed up against rubs against your porcelain skin.

"All you do is act so sweet and innocent around the others. I know what you really are," he speaks in between sloppy kisses. His words go straight to your brain and suddenly your head is all fuzzy and wonky. He moves from Your lips down to your neck, and your neck down to your collar bone, and your collar bone down to a little above your breast. then he repeats kissing, sucking, licking.

Your hands tangled in the back of his hair, and his braids felt rough in your hands. Your lips parted slightly to make way for the small hums and moans falling from them.

"need you right now, mk?" neteyam backs away from your neck to speak. you nod without hesitation, fuck you are so ready. The pool between your legs had been forming ever since he backed you into the tree.

"use your words, princess," The nickname darted straight to your pussy.

"yes, I need you," you spoke trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a low groan and reached one hand down to your loincloth, His big hand dragging across your wet slit.

"fuck," you gasped and bit your lip.

"All this for me?" he questions his lips curving into the stupidest grin. You simply nodded and tugged his hair tighter. He circled his finger around your clit a couple of times, making sure to get you nice and wet. small moans escaped from your mouth as you pawed at his loin cloth ready for more. You could feel him painfully hard against your palm.

“need you teyam,” you choked out, practically begging him to fuck you. He stopped his movements around your clit and looked you in the eyes. He was ready too. You looked up at him and batted your eyes, your eyes begged him for something- no… anything more.

“fuck, okay,” he quickly gave in undoing the knot of his loincloth with his free hand and letting it drop to his feet. He grabs his cock and lines it up with your entrance rubbing it up and down your slit. His hands practically shook with excitement.

“you sure?” he asks pausing before he goes any further. Without hesitation, you aggressively nod your head.

“words, ma ‘evenge (my girl),” the nickname drove you crazy causing the pool between your legs to get bigger and bigger.

“yes, teyam please,” you pleaded hands gripping the hair on his neck tighter. Immediately he was bullying his cock through your walls. When he entered you, you both gasped out of pleasure. The feeling of you being filled up makes your head go spinning, and the feeling of your warm walls around Neteyam makes him dizzy.

“oh, my eywa,” you whimper as he slowly pulls out and quickly snaps his hips back into yours. Your head swings back into the tree behind you and he uses both of his hands to cup for ass to support you. Back aching from being forced onto the rough bark behind you.

“Fuck baby,” he groans increasing his pace with every thrust. His nails dug into the plush of your ass and he couldn’t help but bury his head in the crook of your neck. Kissing, sucking, licking, and sometimes sinking his sharp fangs into your collarbone.

“You feel so good,” you whine bucking your hips up at him to meet him halfway, your body was begging for more.

“I need more,” you pleaded pushing his neck closer to you and shoving his body against yours, leaving sloppy kisses all over his shoulder. You needed to be closer to him, you needed to feel every movement he made, hear every breath he took, and kiss every inch you could.

“I know you want it so bad, huh baby?” his voice sounds sympathetic but he’s just being a meanie. His thrusts grow faster and faster, harder and harder. Your eyes roll into the back of your head due to the amount of pure bliss you were in.

“Fuck I been waiting to fuck you for so long. Ruin that pretty little innocent act you put on,” he practically growls into your neck. Your nails dig into his back.

“Please ruin me,” You begged, he scoffed at how needy and pathetic you were for him. He knew you weren’t as innocent as everyone made you out to be, so he was gonna fuck you like you weren’t.

“You’re all mine now,” he smirks against your collarbone as he sucked and bit marking you up so everyone would know he was yours and you were his.

“Say it ma ‘evenge,” he demanded.

“‘m all yours teytey,” you choked out through your moans. The knot in your stomach was growing tighter by the second and any second now you would cum.

“Please can I cum tey?” you begged, scratching up his back and marking him in your own way.

“Admit it, admit you’re a fucking slut,” His stern voice pulsated throughout your whole body sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m a slut,” you manage to choke out through your pants. His thrusts are becoming sloppy but his pace is still quick. You know he’s close.

“who’s slut are you?” He questions biting into your neck, his fangs so deep they feel like they’re going to draw blood.

“yours, teyam. All yours,” you breathe, his breaths quicken with yours and he throws his head back unable to take the pleasure anymore. You have to cum before him.

“cum, princess,” As soon as the word leaves his mouth, your a mess crumbling underneath him. Pleasure takes over your body and causes your head to throw back and your back to arch off the tree. The way your walls tighten around him sent him over. His thrusts became sloppy as his white ropes shot into you.

“I know, baby. I know,” He shushed you as you both came down from your high caressing your face with one of his hands and holding you up with the other.

“everyone’s gonna know you’re mine,” he smirked admiring the attacks he left on your neck.

[misc-obeyme]

the brothers have mysteriously turned into cats and the only cure is a true love's kiss from our dear MC! how would that go??

Oh anon, I may have gotten carried away with this one...

I looooooved this request! I'm totally a cat person, so it was fun to imagine how the boys would be as cats. I really enjoyed writing this, so it did end up kind of long! I will absolutely do the side characters if requested, too. :)

Thank you for the request!

Brothers turn into cats and need a true love's kiss from GN!MC.

Warnings: None! This is all pretty fluffy... in multiple ways loooool

Lucifer

You go into his office to talk to him about something and at first you think the room is empty. But then you see the tip of a fluffy black tail over the top of his desk. You walk around it to find him sitting there - the floofiest black cat you've ever seen. You recognize him from his ruby red eyes and the unamused expression. Even in cat form, his displeasure is evident. Someone is going to be answering for this later.

He will allow you to pick him up, but if anyone else tries it, he will bite and hiss at them. He will make an exception for Diavolo and, to everyone's surprise, Simeon. Everybody else only wishes they could get close enough to touch that luxurious shiny black fur. Doesn't want to leave your lap. Doesn't meow, doesn't purr, only sits quietly with an ominous aura.

You have to figure out how this even happened to begin with before you can fix it. Turns out it was the result of a curse as implemented by the Anti-Lucifer League. It takes some cajoling, but eventually Satan and Belphie tell you where they found the curse. They don't actually know how to break it, but you do a little research of your own and end up finding what you need.

Take him into his office so you can be alone with him. His pride will suffer horribly if you break the curse in front of everyone. You tell him what you're doing before you press your lips to the soft spot between his ears. Instantly returns to his usual form, wrapping his arms around you as he does. True love's kiss, was it, MC? You had better kiss him properly now that he's back to normal.

Mammon

You wake up to find a purring cat curled up on your chest in a little ball, fast asleep. He's pure white and absolutely adorable. You prod him awake and he lifts his head, opening his eyes to look at you. And that's when you know it's Mammon. You can't mistake those bright blue and gold eyes. He blinks at you in confusion before letting out a yowl.

Okay, okay, you have to calm him down! He's freaking out as he was obviously not expecting to wake up as a little cat this morning. His loud meowing summons everyone in the house. He scrambles away from them, perching himself on your shoulder. Won't budge from this spot, meowing softly into your ear the whole time. Starts purring if you pet him, but in a grudging sort of way.

You find a broken potion bottle on the floor in the foyer. You find out later that he won it off of someone in a card game, but dropped it in the dark when he was sneaking back into the house and got it all over himself. With a little help from Solomon, you figure out how to reverse the potion's effect.

He's been hiding under your bed while you were trying to figure out what happened. You coax him out, pick him up, and give his furry little cheek a smooch. When he's himself again, he's so happy and grateful, he flings his arms around you and presses you to his chest. The Great Mammon is back! How'd ya do that, MC? The minute you tell him it needed true love's kiss, he blushes profusely, but he's too happy to let you go.

Leviathan

You head to Levi’s room, prepared to play some video games, but the demon isn't there. You do find a cat with purplish black fur staring with fascination at Henry’s tank. He isn’t pawing at it, just watching with his orange eyes as the fish swims back and forth. At first you don’t recognize him, but then you see he’s sitting inside the ring of his signature headphones. There’s no question that this is Levi.

Meows loudly at you when he realizes you’re there. If you try to take him out of the room, he will squirm out of your arms and hide in his tub. Won’t leave the tub unless you’re the only one there. If any of his brothers come into the room, he’ll hiss at them from inside the tub. You’ll have to shoo everyone away to finally get him to come out. Will allow you to pet him for a bit. Buts his little head into your hand and purrs.

Jumps up onto his desk and paws at a video game case urgently. When you just look at him in confusion, he knocks the case off the desk. You finally get the hint and pick it up. Turns out this is a cursed video game. Starting it up was what turned Levi into a cat to begin with. You’ll have to play the game to figure out what you need to do to save him.

When you finally win the game and the credits start to roll, you find out that true love’s kiss is the only thing that will turn him back to normal. He meows lowly and plaintively. He clearly thinks he’s doomed to stay a cat forever. Press a sweet little kiss to his pink nose and watch him change back. Takes him a minute to realize what happened. Starts blushing like crazy. You saved him, MC! He never doubted you, of course! Please give him a hug, he is very distressed from this experience.

Satan

You’re in the library looking for Satan when you see a cat sitting on a book, tail swishing in irritation. The cat has short blonde fur and when he turns to look at you, bright green eyes. You sigh. If Lucifer finds out that Satan tried to bring home a stray, there will likely be a fight about it. You pick the cat up and it instantly starts purring, settling contentedly in your arms. You look at the book he was sitting on and that’s when it clicks.

You don’t have to search for what happened - this book is clearly the culprit. However, the book does not inform you about what you have to do to change him back. So you take the book and find Solomon because he’s the only one who will probably be able to help that Satan won’t hiss or scratch at. Even then, he only tolerates the sorcerer. Anyone who gets too close gets bitten except for you. You have to spend all your time holding and petting him to keep him distracted.

Terrorizes everyone. Let him go for two seconds and he’s knocking over everything, meowing loudly, and zooming around the room. If he’s anywhere near Lucifer, he will deliberately roll around on him just to get his black clothes full of light cat hair. Will roll over like he wants belly rubs then bite anyone who actually tries to pet him.

Finally you find out that it’s true love’s kiss that can save him. The second you hear it, you grab him and cover his fuzzy face with little kisses. He returns to normal while you’re doing this. Once you stop, he looks at you with wistful eyes. He’s certainly grateful to you for restoring him to normal, MC. But what an amazing experience to be in the form of a cat! He’s actually a little sad that he’s no longer a cat, so you’ll have to cheer him up.

Asmodeus

You’re relaxing in your own room when you are accosted by a fluffy pink ball of fur. There’s a cat now purring and kneading at your belly. He looks absolutely thrilled to be there. You look a little closer and see that somehow he has painted claws. The pink and green combo tip you off to the fact that this cat is actually Asmo. He’s got amazing long pink fur and the cutest little kitty face you could have ever imagined. You can’t help but start baby talking at him about how cute he is. He clearly loves the attention, purring happily and butting his head into your hand.

He’s precious and he knows it. Will absolutely rub himself all over everyone’s legs. Will jump into any lap that presents itself. Continual purring. Wants love and attention from everyone. Rolls over for belly rubs and actually allows his belly to be rubbed. When he’s not demanding everyone’s attention, he’s cleaning his fur carefully. Meticulous about where he goes - refuses to go outside at all. Will meow sadly if you even suggest it. You know he’s afraid he’s going to get his beautiful fur dirty out there.

You have to do a little detective work to figure out what happened. You’re searching Asmo’s room and bathroom for some sign of how he ended up this way, but you find nothing. At some point, Mammon notices that beneath all that thick fur, Asmo is wearing a really fancy collar. It looks more like a necklace… a cursed necklace. Of course. Now you have to do some research to figure out how to break the curse. You recruit all of the brothers to help you. It takes some time but in the end you figure it out together

The instant he hears that it’s true love’s kiss that will save him, Asmo jumps into your lap and looks up at you expectantly. You take a picture of him first just because he’s so cute as a cat. Then you kiss the top of his head. He turns back into his normal self, still sitting on your lap. He drapes his arms on your shoulders and leans in close, a sweet smile on his face. Oh, MC, he’s so overjoyed that your kiss broke the curse! He’s so happy, he just can’t stop himself from kissing you again. And again. And again.

Beelzebub

You hear a clatter in the kitchen, so you go to investigate. There you find a huge orange cat in the pantry surrounded by half open cans of something called broiled deathfish. It’s clear from the way the cans look that this cat cut them open with his claws. You’re in shock for a moment until you take in the purple-pink eyes and what is clearly Beel’s necklace. He looks up at you with fish bits on his whiskers.

You think about picking him up, but you can’t lift him for long. So instead you shoo him out of the kitchen. He just does whatever you tell him to for the most part. But if he even sees food of any kind, he’ll do whatever it takes to get to it. You’re constantly trying to get him off of tables and counters. He gets away with a lot though because he’s so cute. He’s an absolute unit and it’s adorable. Will let anyone pet him. Purrs happily. Gets the need to zoom around rather frequently before starting to look for food again.

You find the source of this problem fast. It’s written all over one of the empty cans of deathfish. Literally. The can explicitly states that anyone who eats it will be turned into a cat. Apparently it was for some kind of promotion that was meant to be temporary, but it didn’t work as intended. Fortunately, the company issued a statement about it, explaining the solution for this exact scenario.

You have to get down on the floor to kiss him properly. He turns back to normal, sitting cross legged in front of you. Reaches out and pulls you into his lap so he can hug you. Thank you, MC. You took such good care of him while he was a cat. And you saved him with true love’s kiss. It means so much to him, he just wants to hold you for a bit. Until his stomach growls again. Make sure you get rid of any remaining problematic deathfish cans.

Belphegor

Nobody has seen Belphie all day so you go looking for him. You don’t find him, but you do find a little black and white cat fast asleep in the laundry pile. You’re confused at first. You know about the no cats rule that Lucifer has in place. You pick up the cat who wakes up enough to look at you sleepily. The way his fur flops into one of his purple and pink eyes and the half asleep expression causes you to realize that you have found Belphie after all.

The most complacent of cats. Snoozing all the time. Will purr if you pet him, even if he's sleeping. Will make little half mewling noises in his sleep while his little paws twitch. Will let anyone pick him up. Doesn't fight, but doesn't cuddle, either. Just flops around like he's completely boneless. Prefers to be near you, though and will protest if anyone tries to take him into a different room from you. And if anyone tries to actively keep him awake, he will get annoyed enough to scratch at them.

You have no idea how this happened. Can't figure out how he turned into a cat for the life of you. You search all over the house in an attempt to figure it out, but nothing presents itself. You'll find out later that Belphie also has no idea what happened. He probably got into something cursed while he was asleep. It will forever remain a mystery. So you simply set about trying all the well known counter curses.

You're sitting on his bed when you finally kiss his little paws and he turns back into himself, half draped across you and blinking a little. He's still partly asleep. What happened, MC? He was having such a weird dream. You explain everything and tell him about true love's kiss being the thing that brought him back to normal. He snuggles into your shoulder. He didn't really care too much about being a cat, since he was asleep most of the time anyway. But he's happy that you saved him. Kisses your cheek before starting to fall asleep again.

masterlist | part 2 with the side characters | Thank you for reading!

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Echoes of the Solstice

You know it, you love it, it may return on an as-needed basis for Campaign 3 now that Allura has entered the narrative and we know the fate of Caleb, but no promises: it's the Wizard Breakdown Tracker! As a reminder, I now include PCs because I make the rules; wizard NPCs are included on the very scientific basis of "do I have something I think is kind of funny or meaningful to say" so as always, if I left someone off, it was on purpose specifically to annoy you.

Astrid Becke: well her boss is missing, Caleb has expressed concerns in private to Beau about all of the Assembly, apparently the king is bedridden and has been for some time, and I suspect news of unsealed things being unsealed gets to her quickly; even if she isn't aware of the events in Blumenthal yet, she's about to be. Also, it's the apogee solstice. 8/10; ever the opportunist, it is a good time for her to try to become head of the Assembly, but also shit's gone real sideways.

Eadwulf Grieve: lost his title of hottest mage (men's division) to one Fjord Stone during the last Nicodranas County Fair and has been sulking ever since but more importantly the temple of the Raven Queen is doing Not Great Bob as of like an hour ago so a rare Eadwulf stress moment. 7/10.

Planerider Ryn: just lost her arm...but is unaware of it, so that's probably helping. technically cannot be calculated because she is a rock but spiritually like an 8/10 and that's only because she is remarkably unflappable; she just witnessed the Malleus Key and that should drive anyone up to a 10.

Allura Vysoren: has absolutely sensed a disturbance in the force weave and I'm sure Kima's feeling some bad vibes from Bahamut right now, but rather like Ryn she actually has some degree of sangfroid, a concept unheard of in the entire continent of Wildemount. 6/10.

Yussa Errenis: have you ever dealt with like, an ER Nurse, and unless something is actually exploding or someone is actually bleeding out they're like "yeah it be like that sometimes"? After you've been sucked into the Cognouza Hivemind while trying to do your silly little arcane investigations nothing short of the Calamity will ruffle you. He's an elf; he knows this solstice is wonky but also he knows this is Someone Else's Problem. Also Jester's left him alone for a whole 24 hours? Incredible. 2/10 and that's really just because he's still a little cranky about the disappearance of his blast scepter. As always: never change, king.

Prism Grimpoppy: by my calculations she's discovering that she's actually fucking incredible in combat right now. 0/10, she's doing GREAT.

Pumat Sol and sure, fuck it, Oremid Hass: I suspect the Zadash Wizard Contingent is dealing with some wild unsealed shit from the time of the Julous Dominion and they can't get in touch with anyone in the capital, but it's probably manageable. 4/10. On edge but not too bad.

Ludinus Da'leth: oh did your little plan to unleash the god-eater go a touch sideways? were you unprepared for the possibility of fucking all of magic? did you think it was going to be easy? did level 9 "Fuck Up Airship" and level 8 "Shield Against Werewolf" fail to save your bitch ass? As we've seen, he'll scramble and recover, unfortunately, but it's a well-deserved 9/10 right now. I love to see a plan fall apart.

Trent Ikithon: OH this motherfucker has LOST IT in prison. Like...he was able to put together a pretty elaborate situation, to be clear, but also he's gone bugfuck nuts and does not really improve. I think he's already broken down from the start having clearly been planning this exact scenario from the moment of his imprisonment honestly given that he appears to be going off of the frissons he picked up from Caleb and Essek shortly before he was captured, but regardless: he definitely ends it at a 10/10. Stuck in an egg for eternity, if he's even still a separate entity from Omentis. A well-deserved fate if ever there was one. Get fucked lol.

Veth Brenatto: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha 10/10 you know she watched Luc leap through the teleportation circle as it closed and has been shrieking loud enough to be heard at the Chateau.

Luc Brenatto: the arrogance and naivete of youth insulate him initially, but Aggy's demise probably spikes it to a solid 6 minimum and it's definitely 9 during the battle. It goes back down pretty quickly though; see Caleb's entry.

Caleb Widogast: he keeps it together pretty well, honestly! Still I have to imagine he's kind of at a 7 or so this entire time with occasional spikes to 9 (NEIN) throughout, and I wouldn't fault him for finishing up the Blumenthal Brunch and then quietly locking himself in a soundproof tower room to scream, cry, and throw up for a while. Indeed, I would encourage it; Caleb should go have a good cry and hug a magic cat for a couple hours until he feels better, and then come back down to find that everyone except the clerics but DEFINITELY including Luc has implemented Spontaneous Apogee Solstice Oktoberfest to celebrate the demise of Trent, the engagement of Fjord and Jester, and the general experience of being alive, and is varying degrees of extremely wasted. This will of course bring him back up to like 7 as he realizes he has to return a hungover teenager to Veth and then goes down to a 4 or so when he realizes the clerics can fix that and Veth will probably be so glad that Luc is alive she'll ignore the rest of it.

Essek Thelyss: Our international drow of mystery looms large in the narrative, but does not make an appearance, which makes this premise extremely funny. I assume he's feeling kind of rough given that the Dynasty wizards are well-attuned to leylines and I would imagine he picks up that Sending isn't working and was broadly aware Caleb was going into danger, so he's certainly stressed, but Trent doesn't actually seem to know Where in Exandria is Essek Thelyss and is merely threatening blackmail. Honestly while we're at it, we don't know where Essek is because I wouldn't put it past Mr. Geometer Owner to have been at a solstice nexus and to have possibly experienced his own Solstice Shunting. In fact I assume Essek is blissfully unaware of these specific goings on re: Trent and is just experiencing The Anxiety for all of the previous reasons. (1d6+3)/10.

Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Hmmm. Things becoming unsealed, you say? The uninvited guest list (The Real Gelidon, Isharnai) for The TusktoothStone-Lavorre wedding may have gained an extra entry.

[candycandy00]

Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 2

Read the details about this event here!

During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?

Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!

Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!

For the first two rounds, I’m not naming the men. You can probably figure out who is who, but that’s part of the fun! I’m doing it this way to encourage readers to vote based on the scenario rather than just automatically voting out their least fave character. Feel free to make guesses about who each man is!

In Round 1, Man #1, Choso, was eliminated!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

You’ve decided to stick with this group for the time being. They’re a nice mix of strong, smart, and caring. None of them come across as creepy or make you uncomfortable, which is saying a lot considering it’s a group made up entirely of men relatively close to your age. 

You spend the evening gathering what supplies you need into a duffel bag you found in the store’s rather scant sporting goods section. At night, one of them insisted you sleep in the stock room and keep the key until morning. He really was very considerate, and none of the others objected. 

The next day, someone makes coffee in the break room. You don’t know which one did it, but it’s the first cup you’ve had in over a week and tastes delicious. With foam cup in hand, you walk over to the front entrance to check the situation outside, only to find the man who called out to you yesterday keeping watch.

Man #1: Choso (Eliminated in Round 1)

He’s standing near the door, slightly to the side, still as a statue until you approach. 

“Want me to bring you some coffee?” you ask, taking a sip from your cup. 

He smiles at you. “Thanks, but I had some already.”

You gesture toward the entrance. “Anything new going on out there?”

“No, just a dozen or so zombies roaming around,” he replies. “They come close to the door sometimes, but with these tinted windows they can’t see much of what’s inside.”

You hadn’t realized they were tinted until he mentioned it, but you suppose that’s why everything looks so dreary outside. 

As you stare out the window, you notice something in the distance. You squint your eyes, trying to make out if it’s just another zombie or something else. As you watch, the figure picks up speed, breaking into a run. 

“Look! There’s someone out there!” you shout, pointing to the figure fleeing toward the store. 

The man beside you looks out through the glass door. “It’s definitely a living person!”

Behind the figure, a large group of zombies, perhaps the biggest group you’ve seen, is slowly giving chase. The figure stumbles, hits the ground, and you feel your heart race. You’ve witnessed zombie attacks before, but it’s always disturbing. And you can’t help thinking that this could easily have been you yesterday. 

You want to open the door and beckon the figure, but that’s not your call to make. You’re a guest with this group, and you don’t have the right to put their safety at risk. 

Thankfully, the kind hearted man beside you makes that choice. He flings the door open and calls out, “Hey! Run this way! To the grocery store!” 

The figure looks up, and from this distance they appear to be a young man. He scrambles to his feet and breaks into another run, a desperate dash for the store. 

You and the man both yell out to him, encouraging him to hurry and keep going. Just as he runs through the door, two zombies that must have been close to the entrance follow him in, shambling into the store.

Man #2:

Before anyone else can react, the large, imposing man who tore the zombies off you yesterday runs by you. With his bare hands he picks up the first zombie by the neck and literally throws it outside. Then he delivers a devastating punch to the second zombie’s head, knocking it clean off its shoulders. 

You yelp in surprise, having never seen someone kill a zombie in such a way before. Someone closes the door and locks it, but the herd of zombies definitely saw the young man run inside, because they’re heading straight for the store. 

Backing away from the door, you glance at the man who took care of the two zombies. “Do you think the glass will hold?”

He doesn’t seem the least bit scared. “Probably not against a horde like that.”

“What should we do?” you ask, trying not to sound panicked as the zombies close in. 

He grins. “You should run when they break in. I’ll tear the fuckers apart.”

Uncertain whether that statement is comforting or alarming, you turn to look at the newcomer. He’s a teenager, probably around sixteen, and he’s panting to catch his breath. 

You walk over to him. “Are you alright?”

He looks up at you, and his face is twisted in horror. “I’m so sorry!” he yells, tears in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have come in here!”

“It’s alright,” you tell him, reaching your hand out to pat his shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll-“

He swats your hand away. “Don’t! I… I’ve been…” his voice dies in his throat, and he pulls up the sleeve of his shirt, displaying a messy bite wound.

You inhale sharply, your heart sinking at the sight. He’s just a kid! “How long ago?” you ask. You’ve heard rumors that severing a limb with a bite will stop the spread of the virus, but it has to be done quickly. 

“Yesterday,” he answers. 

The man who fought the zombies steps up beside you. “Too long,” he says, his eyes narrowed as he looks at the wound. “We should probably throw him out. He’s no good to us.”

You look at him incredulously. “We can’t do that!”

Man #3:

The man you spoke to yesterday who seemed like a leader, who was clearly a planner, walks over. He looks at the boy, then at you. “We’ll need to discuss this,” he says. 

“Discuss what? What are the options here?” you ask him. “Let him stay or toss him out there to be eaten alive?!”

The man’s smooth expression doesn’t change. “Those aren’t the only options. We could tie him up, lock him in the break room, or even give him a quick and painless death.”

You feel your outrage subsiding. Those sound much more reasonable. You’re surprised he can think so rationally in this situation. “Okay. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

He smiles that same charming, not-quite-genuine smile he gave you yesterday. “Don’t be. Tensions are running high, so it’s understandable. I’d worry more if you were the type to want to throw him out immediately.”

You sigh in relief, then turn toward the boy, who is still muttering apologies. “What would you like for us to do? Restrain you? Or… or make it so you don’t turn?”

The boy looks up at you. “I don’t want to turn! Please, don’t let me end up like them! I’d do it myself but I’m too scared!”

Hearing such a young man say that is heartbreaking. But you understand. If you ever get bitten, you hope someone will kill you before letting you become a zombie, doomed to roam the earth, rotting and attacking others. 

The man pulls a blade from a holster on his hip and approaches the boy. “Are you ready? Or do you need more time?”

The boy hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I’m ready. Please make it quick!”

The man pats him on the back affectionately. “You’re very brave. You can rest easy now. I’ll make sure you don’t suffer.”

The boy is staring at him, and seems comforted. “Thanks,” he says with teary eyes. 

You turn your head, unable to watch. You don’t hear a sound. No scream, not even a grunt. It really must have been painless. When you look back, the man is easing the boy’s body to the floor. He looks thoughtful, maybe a little sad. 

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” you say. 

He’s wiping his blade off on a handkerchief. “Someone has to make the tough decisions, and then carry them out.”

You start to ask why that had to be him, but you remain silent. You don’t like the way he seems to be taking all the darkness and sadness onto himself. But you have bigger things to worry about right now.

Man #4: 

The man you saw standing guard yesterday, who said he wanted to go back to the city, is staring out the windows of the store, watching the growing horde approach. He doesn’t seem scared, only annoyed, as if this is no more than a minor obstacle to his plans. 

“I’m gonna get out of here,” he says, loud enough for the others to hear. “I don’t have time to get held up.”

You look at him in shock. “You’re just going to leave the rest of us?”

He looks at you dispassionately. “A group will draw their attention a lot more than a single person. I’m not getting stuck with these guys.”

You look him up and down, at his sturdy physique. “But, we need you.”

“You ever stop to think that maybe someone else needs me?”

The question takes you aback. You have no answer for him. If he’s that desperate, if he’s willing to wade through countless zombies to get to the city, there must be someone very important to him there. 

“Can you at least wait a little while?” you ask him. “The zombies might give up and wander off if they can’t see us through the tinted windows.”

The man sighs. “Fine. I’ll see what happens.”

You look out at the horde. The first few zombies have reached the front of the store and are clawing at the windows and doors. You shudder as you watch them. You’ve never seen so many before, or so close up in a situation where you can actually get a good look at them. If one is close, you’re usually fleeing or trying to kill it. 

They’re all staring straight ahead, seemingly at nothing. Can they see their own reflections in the glass? Can they even perceive themselves? Seeing them just leaves you feeling empty and sad. 

“Do me a favor,” the man says. “If I ever get bitten, put a bullet in my fucking brain.”

You nod. “Same,” you say.

Man #5: 

The man who gave you the tip yesterday about using duck tape on your arms steps over to the windows to survey the situation. He already has his arms wrapped in a layer of the tape, over top of his sleeves. A few of the others notice, and begin wrapping their own limbs in tape or thick fabric, so you do the same. 

He steps closer to you and takes the roll of tape from your hand, then begins wrapping your forearm for you. 

“Thanks,” you tell him, hoping he can’t hear how nervous the growing horde outside is making you. 

He seems as calm as the more physically imposing men, despite having a more slender frame. “Our best option would be to bang on the glass and draw their attention to the front, then all of us slip out the back way,” he says. 

You glance toward the back of the store. “Should we check to see if they’ve circled around?”

He nods, and the two if you make your way back, through the storage area and to a large drop down gate. You assume trucks come in this way to unload merchandise. But it’s locked up tight and you can’t see anything on the other side. 

“There’s a window up there,” the man says, pointing. You have to use a step ladder to reach it, but you both climb up to look out. 

There aren’t nearly as many zombies roaming around behind the store, but there are definitely enough to be a problem. 

“I think we can make it through, but it’s going to be a challenge,” he tells you. 

You feel fear creeping up your spine. So far you’ve been able to evade most large groups of zombies, but with the store being surrounded, it’s looking like you’re going to have to wade into them. 

As the two of you return to the front, you feel your spirits sinking.

Man #6:

The man with the bright smile comes up beside you as you stare out hopelessly at the zombies gathered at the windows. 

“I’ve seen bigger hordes,” he says. 

You look up at him. “You have?”

He grins. “Sure. They’re not so bad when you realize how slow and uncoordinated they are.”

You appreciate his optimism. But you realize it’s more than that. His confidence rings true, and it makes you feel a little more hopeful. 

“So you think we can get out?” you ask. 

He nods, still smiling, then gestures to where a few of the men are standing in a small circle. “They’re planning our escape right now. We’ve got some real smart guys here, so don’t worry.”

You finally return his smile. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he replies. 

Just then you hear something, like tinkling glass. Both you and the man look around for the source of the noise. After a few minutes, you spot a tiny crack in the glass, right where over a dozen zombies are pressing against the windows. 

“They’re breaking the glass!” you cry, backing away. 

The man calls over to his friends, “Guys, put a rush on that brilliant plan!”

They look up and rush over to check the crack.

Man #7:

The man you met in the stock room yesterday is the first to crouch down and examine the crack in the glass. His brow is furrowed as he watches the zombies shove themselves against the window, then he turns to face the others. 

“Everyone, get whatever you need and be ready to go in ten minutes. We’ll take our chances going out the back.”

You already had your backpack ready, so you pull it onto your shoulders as the other men begin doing the same. You feel your heart racing as you prepare for the fight of your life. 

The man is securing his own pack with a strap around his waist and checking the heavy denim sleeves of the jacket he’s wearing. He seems uncomfortable in the fabric, as if it’s not something he’d normally wear, but protection is the most important thing right now. 

“What do you think our chances are?” you ask him. 

He looks around the room. “With this group? Pretty good. If we all stick to the plan,” he adds, glancing at a couple of guys in particular. Then he looks back at you. “Try to stay in the middle of us. We can protect you.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. “I guess I lucked out when I stumbled upon you guys.”

He gives you a warm smile. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

Just then, you hear glass breaking, another crack at first, and then a shattering that startles everyone in the store. Right beside you, the first zombie crashes inside, and the man grabs your arm, pulling you back behind him. 

As the zombie horde begins shambling into the store, the men around you take defensive positions and get ready to fight their way to the back.

Tag List:

@tadabzzzbee @babysoo-meu @atomicweaselpaperapricot

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #30

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

There's already chattering and the smell of coffee lingering in the air by the time you're coming down the stairs. The kitchen is already occupied by Jungkook's parents and Jungkook himself as they greet you cheerfully.

"Ah, good morning!" Mrs. Jeon beams as soon as she sees you walking into the kitchen, causing Jungkook and his father to look up from their cups.

"Good morning." you smile, looking at Jungkook who gives you a wink before he hides a smirk behind the cup as he takes another sip, muttering 'morning'.

Just like he said, he was gone before you or anyone woke up. He sneaked downstairs before his parents, more like his mother, could notice. You slept so well that he didn't even wake you up while going back downstairs, but that had to be because of how tired you were. You feel sorry for sleeping so late, noticing everyone's already awake and ready for the day. Thank god you made yourself a human again before coming downstairs.

"Coffee or tea, sweetheart? I'm making us breakfast, not sure what you like but Jungkook told us you're probably okay with anything."

You smile at Mrs. Jeon's kindness, not surprised by her hospitality but it still makes your heart warm.

"Tea is perfect and yes, I'm okay with anything." you smile, sitting down next to Jungkook as he gives you a little nudge while wiggling his brows.

"Slept well?" he asks, the mischief underlying his tone which goes completely unnoticed by his father that looks up from the newspaper at you, nothing but curiosity evident on his face.

This little shit.

"Yes," you choke out, smiling nervously at Jungkook's father who just gives you a quirk of his lips before he sips from his morning coffee. "How did you sleep Jungkook? Was the couch nice?" you ask, pursing your lips at your best friend that looks dumbfounded for a second and even gives you a tiny glare.

Mr. Jeon chuckles underneath his breath but doesn't react further, probably thinking the two of you are just teasing each other like two siblings, reminding him of all the times Jungkook and Jungwon used to tease each other, even during breakfast.

"Very." he grits through his teeth, the amusement dancing in his eyes.

Before he can say something else, Mrs. Jeon is already hovering over the two of you and serving you scrambled eggs for breakfast. "See, Jungkookie. It wasn't so bad, was it?" she says, pushing Jungkook's buttons without even realizing it as you snicker underneath your breath, feeling the side glare he's giving you.

He grumbles something in return, agreeing with her before everyone's breakfast is served and ready to be eaten. To be honest, Mrs. Jeon has given you such a big serving that it makes your eyes widen at the amount on your plate. There's no way you'll be able to eat it all.

"I'll eat it after you if you won't be able to finish it." Jungkook mutters softly, noticing the look that you're giving the plate and also, he knows you're not a huge eater when it comes to mornings.

You prefer lunch and dinner. You don't like to stuff your stomach in the morning, you usually grab a fruit or something that's quick and not so heavy on the stomach.

The breakfast goes smoothly, few chatters here and there until the topic of today's plans is being mentioned and Jungkook jumps to say that the two of you are invited to Jungwon's house.

"Is Haru fine? He said she was having fevers." Mrs. Jeon says, clearly voicing out her worry when it comes to her first and only grandchild.

"He texted me this morning, she's fine. Her teeth must've been growing." Jungkook answers, before taking a bite.

"My poor baby," Mrs. Jeon pouts, sighing at the end. "I thought we could go out tonight? We talked with your father and thought we could take you both out for dinner and maybe show Y/N around."

She looks at the two of you but you just shrug, looking at Jungkook since you don't think this decision is totally and purely up to you. There's nothing specific you had planned for this trip to Busan, you're more accompanying Jungkook rather than a tourist.

"Yeah, sounds good. But I've got some plans for us after we visit Jungwon. Maybe when we get back?" he asks, hopefully glancing at his mother who assures him that it's fine and she understands.

You peer at Jungkook curiously, wondering what he's got planned for today besides the visit to his brother. He notices your stare, giving you a smirk before he mumbles; "You'll see."

Knowing it's no place or time to pry, you go along with it and eat your breakfast. And just like Jungkook predicted, you're not able to finish the breakfast but he luckily swipes your plate with his empty one as he happily munchies on your unfinished breakfast while you sip onto the herbal tea Mrs. Jeon has made you.

"So, what is it that you've planned for us?" you ask Jungkook, leaning against the back of his car as he opens the truck.

You've just arrived in front of the apartment building where Jungwon lives with his family. It's not too far away from Jeon's house, closer to the center of the city in the middle of apartment complexes and even though the buildings look a little bit scrappy, the expensive cars parked on the side of the road tells you that it's probably a middle class neighborhood. Jungwon owns a coffee shop after all, from what you have collected by observing and listening to Jungkook, he doesn't live badly and has enough money to provide for his family. Still, Jeon's and Jungwon too, aren't rich but they're doing well financially.

"You'll see." Jungkook hums, pulling out a box that's wrapped in a pink wrapping paper with white straps on it before he closes the truck, giving you a satisfied grin when he sees the roll of your eyes.

"You can't just tell me, can you?" you grumble, watching him closing the door before he stuffs the car keys into the pocket of his jeans.

"Where's the fun in that?" he asks, scrunching his nose as he cackles at your annoyed expression.

You should've known he wouldn't tell you just like this. He likes annoying you and clearly your reactions are his source of amusement.

"You're annoying." you comment, walking towards the building with him by your side as he rings the bell once he finds Jungwon's name attached above to one of the buttons.

Grinning at you, he opens the door for you as soon as Jungwon buzzes you in, or you suppose it's Jungwon, before you make your way inside. When you make your way into the elevator, Jungkook presses the button to the tenth floor as you both stand in the silence.

"What's in the box?" you ask, glancing curiously at the medium size box, trying not to gawk at Jungkook's bulged out biceps even though he's doing a bare minimum with holding it.

Why did he think it's a good idea to wear a short– sleeved shirt, oversized at that? It's unbelievable how he managed to look fucking good while wearing a complete casual outfit. It's not fair.

You spent a good fifteen minutes trying to decide what to wear today. You settled on mom jeans, white tank top tucked in it and a purple cardigan that's thin and short (just right for this weather) that ends right above your high waisted jeans. This cardigan has to be one of your favorites, the material is soft and thin, and you tied the two thin strings. It still shows your tank top underneath and the silver necklace with the first letter of your name. It was Jungkook's birthday gift for you on your twentieth birthday. Your outfit is simple but nice. But Jungkook still looks ten times better and it's completely unfair.

Who does he think he is? Flashing his tattoos, earrings in both his ears and soft looking locks.

"A gift for Haru." Jungkook answers, cutting off your thoughts from your attractive best friend that's standing beside you completely unaware of your thoughts. Thank god he doesn't know, he wouldn't let you live if he knew what you were just thinking. It'd stroke his ego for sure.

He confirmed your assumptions about the gift, knowing it probably is for the youngest Jeon family member and you hum in response, before the elevator's door is opened. Jungkook guides you through the hallway, stopping in front of one of the doors as he gives a simple two knocks. Jungwon opens the door right after with a huge and welcoming smile on his face, ushering for you two to come in as you greet him. Just as you and Jungkook are taking off your shoes, little paddling feet and blabbering is heard causing you both to look up.

There is standing a toddler, barely standing on her legs and if it weren't for her mother clasping her tiny hand, it'd surely be the matter of time before she'd plop onto her butt. She eyes the two of you, her little brown eyes widening at the sight of Jungkook who quickly takes off his shoes and crouches down not to appear so big.

"Aw, look at you Ru!" Jungkook coos, your own lips stretching into a huge smile as Haru starts smiling and ushering towards him.

"Haru, wait!" Jungwon's wife laughs as she does the best not to let her go.

"Kookie!" The little toddler squeals, recognizing her uncle from all the video calls and pictures as her uncle is already outstretching his arms for her.

She doesn't hesitate, almost jumping into the comfort of her uncle's arms as he envelopes her in a hug.

"Hi Ruru, missed you so much!" Jungkook says, preparing her cheeks with kisses as she squeals and laughs.

Your heart warms up at the sight, not seeing him being this warm and soft towards a kid. There never was a chance, you know Jungkook likes kids but Taehyung usually had been the one who couldn't stop cooing at unknown babies on the street at every chance he got.

He picks her up, stroking the little black hair that is growing on her head. Jungkook's whole attention is on her, watching her while smiling down at her. Her eyes flicker towards her father that's standing beside you, before her eyes settle on yours as she watches you curiously.

"Oh, you got her attention." Jungwon calls out, laughing when Haru opens her mouth while a drool dribbles down her chin, landing on Jungkook's shirt.

He takes the bib with a cartoon butterfly on it that's tied around her neck, and wipes the drool with it. You stare surprisingly, never seeing a man doing such a simple but caring thing to a kid that's not his own.

"Hi, baby." you coo, standing closer as she stares at you with wide eyes. You take her little hand into your own and shake it as she looks at Jungkook, almost questionably.

Everyone in the room starts laughing, her little uncertainty slowly fading away as she sees everyone being comfortable and smiling before she gives you a tiny smile. She wraps her arms around Jungkook's neck and buries her face into his chest.

"You must be Jungkook's best friend, right?" Jungwon's wife and Haru's mother asks, stepping closer to you as she gives you a warm smile.

"Ah, yes. I'm Y/N," you smile, outstretching your arm towards her as she shakes it.

There's no wonder that Jungwon's wife is beautiful. She's slightly taller than you, and if you didn't know that she's just a year older than Jungwon, you would say she could be your age. Her skin is slightly tanned and her hair is without doubt dyed, but they look soft and beautiful just like she does. The strawberry champagne color contrasts with her skin nicely.

"I'm Sona, you can call me Sona," she assures you as soon as she introduces herself to you, noting that there is no need for honorifics. "Welcome to our home! Come on, let's sit down." she says, leading everyone to their home and the warmth of their living room.

Their home is nice and modern, the living room filled with toys scattered everywhere you look as a child's foam carpet is right in front of the huge grey leather couch. Just as you're walking, Jungkook doesn't notice and steps onto the block, grunting as he bites his lip harshly not to swear. The plastic toy digs into his feet painfully while Jungwon laughs, patting Jungkook's back before he says; "Welcome to my world."

Jungkook groans, looking at you, seeing you trying to hide your smirk as you quickly turn around and follow Sona.

"I'm sorry, I tried to clean up but it's hard with a kid around." Sona apologizes, a hint of joking in her voice as she stares lovingly at her daughter.

"Ah, it's okay." you tell her, knowing she probably feels bad about the mess around. But you totally get it, assuring her that's okay and she shouldn't worry about it.

Fifteen minutes talking and you're sure Sona is without a doubt a nice person, no wonder Junwon had chosen her as his wife and the mother of his kid. Surely, you know her for twenty minutes or so, and maybe she's just polite but she seems interested in you, asking you some basic questions which you answer with a smile on your face. Your stress has easen up and you find yourself being comfortable in their home and presence.

Jungkook brings the present from the corridor once Haru lets him go, too interested in the blocks that you're building with her on the floor. Everytime the few blocks fall, she claps happily not minding that hers and your effort has just failed. You giggle, noticing Jungkook grinning as he crouches beside you. Haru's eyes lighten at the mysterious box in her uncle's hands and she stands up, wobbling on her legs. You hold her hand, letting her go as she steadies herself against the box.

"Look what I brought you," Jungkook tells her, his tone sweet and tender. "Should we open it?" he teases, grinning at her as she starts to wiggle on her little legs that makes everyone laugh at her cuteness.

Jungkook helps her, by that you mean opening the present himself as Haru stands by and excitedly claps. Haru squeals at the baby toy that's inside the box, clapping her little hands before she squeals; "Baba!"

"Yes!" Jungkook beams, pulling out the baby toy out of it, holding it out for Haru as she takes it.

"Jungkook, you didn't have to." Sona says, eyebrows raised as she looks at Jungkook with gratitude before her little girl catches her attention.

"Don't mention it," he waves his hand, looking at Haru who clumsily makes her way over to you. "Just the best for my only and the cutest niece."

She surprises you by sitting on your lap with the baby in her hands, looking up at you as she grins happily. You stroke her thin hair, talking to her while you glance at Jungkook who's already pulling out his phone and snapping a few pictures of you and Haru.

So cute. Haru, of course.

And maybe Jungkook a little bit too, especially when he looks down at the photos he has just taken, scrunching his nose cutely as he shows Jungwon and Sona.

"She likes you." Jungkook says as he puts the seatbelt on, you do the same thing while you smile at the mention of his little fourteen month old niece.

"She's so adorable," you tell him, already missing her but it was the right time to go.

It was time for Haru's nap and she wouldn't want to go with her mom, whining whenever they tried to pick her up. Deciding it's better the two of you leave, already having other plans anyway, it was heartbreaking hearing her soft cries as she saw you leaving.

"You're so good with kids, Jeon. I didn't know that." you tease, looking at him as he rolls his eyes and starts the engine while a cocky smirk makes its way on his lips.

"Of course, I am. I'm good with everyone." he jokes, causing you to snort.

"Yeah, right," you murmur, chuckling under your breath when you feel the glare he gives you.

He rides out of the parking lot, driving somewhere as soft music plays through the radio. You chit chat throughout the ride, mainly talking about Haru and even mentioning Sona about how she's nice. Jungkook tells you Jungwon and Sona used to date when they were teenagers and then broke up over something stupid, and then they met again and tried it one more time. It ended up with a marriage and a little baby along the way. It's funny and interesting how the world and fate works.

One thing you can't quite shake off is how good Jungkook looked while playing with Haru. You can't help it, he obviously knows his way around kids but there was something about him taking care of her. It was simple things, like handing her the bottle or feeding her with animal crackers. It's stupid but one thing is sure, Jeon Jungkook surprised you again. Maybe it's the lack of sex in your life once again, but it made him look even more attractive and you never thought that's possible. It's surely your hormones acting up, but you find your throat dry at the memories of him fucking you.

"Hey, are you listening to me?" Jungkook chuckles, glancing at you for a second before his eyes are back on the road.

Huh? He was saying something?

"Sorry, spaced out." you chuckle, gulping trying to shake those memories off.

"Yeah, I could see that," he jokes, checking the crossroad before he's allowed to continue, driving forward. "I was saying, we're around ten minutes away--"

It all happens quickly. Jungkook's eyes are on the road and yours are too, clearly seeing the car that doesn't stop on the sign on the left side, speeding up. Jungkook's words die halfway, his own eyes widening.

"Jungkook, watch out!" you yell, already thinking of the worst as you expect Jungkook's car to collide with the other one.

Jungkook's senses are increased, stomping on the brakes as the tires of his car screech his arm shoots in front of you, stopping your body from going any forward, even though you've got your seatbelt on that uncomfortably digs into your chest. The car stops, the other one stopping just a few meters away from you as you breathe heavily.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, alarmed, turning to you as he checks your flushed face and heavily breathing body.

"Yeah," you answer, shaken up from what just happened.

Jungkook unbuckles the seatbelt, opening the car's door before you can utter a single word as he stands up from the car. "Are you fucking insane?!" he yells at the guy that stands up from his car bowing and apologizing to Jungkook who's fuming.

His face is red, his voice booming on the road. "Who gave you a driving license, idiot!"

"Jungkook," you call out to him, seeing him glancing towards you before he yells something explicit to the driver, sitting back into the car.

"Fuck," he curses, sighing as he tries to calm down himself. "Are you okay?" he asks, focusing his attention on you once again as he puts the seat belt back on.

"Yeah, I'm just glad nothing bad happened."

He starts the engine, throwing a nasty glare at the driver's car who's already in the car and driving away like nothing happened.

"He could've killed us, fucking idiot," he swears, tightening his hold onto the steering wheel as he still fumes. "I should've punched him in the face, asshole."

"Kook," you start, "It's fine. We're fine."

"No, it's not fine," he scoffs, "If I didn't step on the breaks, something could've happened to us."

"Yeah," you agree because you understand his anger. You'd be angry too if you still weren't a little bit shaken up. The sight of the car almost colliding with yours is still clear and horrifying.

"I'm sorry." Jungkook blurts out suddenly, your head snapping to his as he makes sure his eyes don't leave a road.

That's what he did the last time, it's not his fault that the other driver wasn't paying any attention and was ignorant. And the fact it happened in the bright daylight... it makes you even more angry.

"What? Why? It's not your fault, Kook." you remind him, already recognizing the tone of his voice as guilty.

"I should've drove slower." he murmurs, sighing as you shake your head not agreeing with him.

"Jungkook, you kept the speed just right, you weren't even driving that fast. That guy is a dick who doesn't know how to drive properly and safely. It could've happened to anyone."

He's silent for a moment, still processing what just happened and your words too, not reacting to them properly as he lets out a low sigh, turning right. "Just no word to my mom, okay? She would freak the fuck out."

You can't even imagine what Mrs. Jeon would do if she knew what just happened. She'd freak out like any other mother would, there's no denying in that.

"Of course," you nod, "We're safe, okay? Don't beat yourself over this. I know you drive safely."

It's true. You've never trusted anyone like you do trust Jungkook. He's a safe driver and you never doubt that. Clearly, none of this is his fault and you all can be glad, nothing more serious happened.

"A tattoo? Are you serious?" you almost shriek as soon as the tattoo artist disappears into another room to grab something, your eyes wide and staring at your best friend that's laying on the black leather chair.

He grins, the anger he had felt long gone as mischief runs in his eyes that glisten underneath the lightning in the dark room. It looks exactly like you'd imagine a tattoo shop to look like. Dark, full of pictures of tattoos while the whole place smells of disinfection and leather. Surprisingly, you don't feel that uncomfortable here, even though your jaw fell as soon as Jungkook parked in front of the tattoo shop.

"What's a life without some adventure in it?" he teases, grinning at you with that cute bunny grin that makes you shake your head at his absurdity.

"You're crazy." you tell him, sitting on the stool that's next to the chair he's laying with an arm underneath his head, plopping himself comfortably as if he's not about to have a needle piercing through his skin soon.

"You could get one too," he suggests lightly, "I remember you mentioning something about wanting to have a tattoo."

"I was drunk back then," you deadpan, "You know I say shit when I'm drunk."

Jungkook chuckles at that, boring his fingers into his black hair as he brushes them through it. "That's not true. You get sleepy and all cute when you're drunk."

You almost blush at that, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks for some reason. Probably embarrassed because he's got a point. Not the cute part though, you can't imagine anyone being cute while being drunk other than... Well, him. Even though he was annoying while being drunk the last time, there were times when you just thought 'cute' and just had to laugh at him.

"Yeah, I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with needles and being in pain willingly." you cringe, scrunching your nose as Jungkook chuckles at your reaction.

"It's not that painful, depends where you get it."

"Okay, you tattooed God." you tease, causing him to laugh as he throws his head back before he looks at you with those glistening dark and big eyes.

"God?" he teases, earning another roll of your eyes.

"Anyway," you purse your lips, "What are you getting?"

He doesn't answer, simply pulling out his phone before he shows you a picture of a flower which you look at curiously. "Is that...?"

"Yeah, an aster. Just something to fill up the rest of the tattoos. Also, it's my mom's birth flower, I thought that's cool." he says, shrugging before you hand him back the phone and he tucks it into his jeans.

"It is," you hum, eyes falling down onto his tattooed arm as you find yourself staring at them. "I like them. I mean... all your tattoos." you admit, remembering that you showed your interest in his tattoos before but maybe you've never voiced it like this.

"You do? Thank you." he says, genuinely smiling at you but you're too focused on his tattoos.

You scoot closer, taking his hand which he allows unbothered as you start tracing the quote tattoo following the peace sign one. Some of them are random, something that necessarily describes him as a person but you can tell it's his taste and he probably wanted to get something cool.

"You like them that much, huh?" he says, voice deep and quiet as you glance up at him, surprised how close you're to his face.

Too close to notice every imperfection that brings you unwillingly back to all those times you got to stare at him from up close, under different circumstances. Circumstances that it was about seconds before you got to taste his lips and kiss him. It's awful how much those memories come back, clouding your mind as you find yourself gulping at the sudden temptation.

"Yeah," you breathe out, your voice almost embarrassingly uneasy while your heart beats somewhere in your throat.

Why is the air so hot all of a sudden?

"So, you wanted to get only that one today, right?" The guy that's tattooed from the neck (and guessing) to his toes comes back, interrupting the awkward atmosphere in the room that you're not sure if Jungkook detected because he doesn't seem to be affected one bit.

You let go of his arm as if it burns you, scooting with your stool slightly away as you focus on the tattoo artist instead.

"Yeah, right here." Jungkook says, showing him the empty place on his skin where he'd like to have the tattoo.

The tattoo artist nods, already preparing all the stuff while he chit-chats mainly with Jungkook, your presence almost forgotten as you're trying to calm down your beating heart that beats at an uncomfortable pace.

And when Jungkook lays lazily on the chair, outstretching his arm as the bicep bulges out naturally while veins pop underneath his soft and sunkissed skin, you're in a desperate need of fresh air. Air where Jungkook isn't close and doesn't awaken the temptation, suffocating you with it by his presence.

But you sit throughout the whole session with an uneasy smile, acting as if you weren't salivating over your extremely attractive best friend. The memories of him fucking you, probably chocking you or the mental visual of his cock certainly don't help.

Fucking hormones.

"Does it hurt?" you ask him through the buzzing sound as if he slightly scrunches his nose.

"No, not really. It's a bit uncomfortable but nothing I can't handle." he answers, cockingly smirking as you snort.

"Alright, you muscle pig."

"Thought I was a tattooed God?" he responds innocently, cocking his head to the side totally unaffected by the needle piercing his skin. However, you see the mischievous glint in those eyes and the tiniest smirk that spreads on his lips when you raise your brows knowingly at him.

You pray you'll get through this session because Jeon Jungkook is definitely not making it any easier for you.

The same darkness surrounds Jungkook's old bedroom just like the night before, with the difference that there are droplets of rain meeting the window in a calm and uneven melody. Tucked in the blanket, you snuggle to the pillow that Jungkook laid on last night. You convince yourself that it's only a coincidence and you don't want to find out if the pillow smells like him. And it does smell like him, even though it's very faint but it's there.

Closing your eyes, you wonder if Jungkook already fell asleep since his mom stayed downstairs by the time everyone went to bed. She started packing some homemade kimchi for Jungkook and also for you, which you assured her that it's not necessarily but you appreciate it nevertheless. Of course, she insisted on packing some of it for you as well, saying that homemade kimchi is always the best. You specifically remember the teasing roll of eyes that Mr. Jeon gave her when she said, quoting "I don't mean to brag, but my kimchi is the best one".

However, he did assure her that she's completely right saying; "Of course, honey. You're absolutely right."

After being together and married for so many years, knowing they raised their kids who are adults now, it makes you wonder if you'll ever find that kind of love. It's never certain and shouldn't be taken for granted. There are so many marriages failing and ending with the divorce, it scares you to think that you'll get married one day believing that your significant other is the right one, just for the relationship and marriage ending up with divorce.

Breaking up with Haechan wasn't easy, maybe he hadn't been the love of your life but you still liked him. Maybe even loved him but you'll never know, not until you'll truly understand the meaning and the feeling of love. Still, even though you both agreed it's best to break up, it doesn't mean it was easy for you to let him go. Your relationship wasn't just about the dry sexlife in it, there were other things and most importantly, you felt that he wasn't the right one.

Seeing him in the grocery store that day made you speechless. Not just from seeing him after such a long time but to realize that he changed. He looked more mature than ever, probably started working out more. You remember him going to the gym more often, saying that he enjoys it. You wonder if he's still the same person that you were dating. Did he change other than just physically?

Although, you hadn't felt any hard feelings when you saw him, there is still a strike of curiosity inside of you.

Jungkook's parents are the living proof of a healthy relationship and marriage. They're not just kind to each other but to everyone else around them. They've known you from the first time you went to visit them with Jungkook and you know Jungkook often mentions you to them, especially when they call when the two of you hang out. But still, your heart grows with gratitude and warmth how welcomed they've made you feel.

When you went to the promised dinner today, they kept chatting with you as if they've known you for years. Not even once they made you feel uncomfortable or acted as if you were a stranger. After the dinner was all eaten and finished, they showed you around Jungkook's hometown and even took you to Busan's fish market. Mr. Jeon seemed to be extremely interested in explaining everything to you, throwing random but interesting facts as you talked to him while Jungkook talked with his mother, trailing behind you. Without doubt, Jungkook's father is a proud citizen of Busan which you find adorable.

Your memories of today are interrupted with the door opening, Jungkook's head poking as he scans the dark room.

"You sleepin'?" he whispers, slowly stepping in as he notices you turning around.

"No," you answer, even though he probably knows that by now. "I thought you wouldn't come." you chuckle, already making space for him as he joins you in the bed.

"Aw, you missed me?" he coos, causing you to snort before you kick him in the shin. He yelps, muttering a scolding; "Not nice."

"No, I thought that I'll finally get to have this bed all to myself." you point out as he's fluffing his pillow before he comfortably lays back down.

"Ha-ha," he responds dryly, "My mom wouldn't leave the kitchen, I spent the last hour pretending to be sleeping. I think she packed the whole fridge."

You snort, muffling your laugh with the blanket as Jungkook tries to shush you, chuckling as well. Your laughter slowly dies down, a content smile spreading on your lips from today's day. Apart from the little moments you had when you occupied your mind by appreciating how good–looking is your best friend. It had been truly frustrating and it proved that Jungkook wasn't about to make it any easier for you.

After he got the tattoo, he thought about taking you to the mall and also wanting to buy some presents for his parents since today is the last night you're staying here. You've to get going before lunch, since tomorrow is a Sunday and you both have to go back working on Monday.

You ended up in one of the shops looking at different clothes, mostly at jackets and coats since fall is around the corner. Somehow, you both stumbled across the underwear section which totally didn't go unnoticed by Jungkook and as soon as he saw some stockings on the display, he already tugged you towards it. Who knows what went through his mind, thinking it's a good idea as he started humming and looking at each one. By the time he pointed at one, the very similar one he ripped, your face was red as a tomato.

"This one looks like the one you had. Come on, pick one." he says, shrugging effortlessly as you stare at him. 

"Are you insane?" you deadpan, completely thrown off by the sudden idea as he ignores you and starts rummaging through the packs of stockings. 

"I promised you I'd buy you one. Come on, just pick one or a few. I owe you that much." he says, teasingly wiggling his brow at you as you stutter over your words.

He's insane, you thought at this exact moment knowing that the shop you are currently at isn't the cheapest one. You just went here out of curiosity, quickly changing your mind to buy something as soon as you've seen the prices. 

Even one pair of stockings is too expensive, it just isn't worth it. And even though Jungkook promised to buy you a new one, you'll be happily satisfied with a cheaper one... or him treating you to lunch when you get back to Seoul. 

And when you're about to tell him that, assuring him that maybe this isn't the right shop to buy those stockings at, the young saleswoman wearing high heels and a nice black blazer and blue jeans approaches you.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asks politely, flashing you with her nice teeth while red lipstick stains her lips.

"Oh, thank you. We're just looking actually." you quickly say, trying to save the day as you give her a nervous smile meanwhile Jungkook's brows furrow in disapproval, knowing very well what you're trying to do. 

"No, we actually want to buy one of these. Come on, Y/N. Just pick one." he says, looking straight at you as he has the audacity to raise a brow at you.

You want to groan, curse him for not listening to you but you can't. The last thing you want is to cause a scene in this shop, and in front of the saleswoman that patiently stands by and waits.

"Jungkook," you groan, his name finding its way on your tongue as you say it through clenched teeth but he completely ignores you again, turning to the saleswoman. 

"We'll take this one. What's your size?" he asks you, briefly glancing at you as he waits for your response. 

Your cheeks flush red, your eyes glaring at him as you shake your head. "Don't worry about it, I--"

Again, he ignores you and flashes one of those handsome smiles at the saleswoman. "What do you think her size is?" he asks her, embarrassing you even more as she gives you a knowing smile before she hands Jungkook one of the stockings packs, surprisingly picking out the right size as he thanks her.

He flushes you his bunny smile, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you grumble in response. "I always get my way, you know that."

"I wanted to save you the money. This shop is too expensive." you inform him as he guides you towards the cash register.

"Don't mind the money, I told you I'd buy you a new one. You know... since I ripped your old one." he whispers teasingly the last part into your ear and you jab him with your elbow, but he doesn't budge and laughs instead. 

At the memory that hasn't happened that long ago, you let out a soft chuckle as you hear Jungkook rustle behind you. You've turned to him with your back, ready to sleep however your mind doesn't seem to rest.

"What?" Jungkook lets out a low chuckle, turning to you as you turn to lay on your back, staring at the ceiling.

"I can't believe you bought me stockings. It was just so random." you answer, giggling.

"To be honest, I wanted to order you some. I didn't forget," he chuckles, "I just wasn't sure if I'd fit into your taste... when I saw the underwear section, I figured it'd be the best to buy it with you around."

"Oh my god," you laugh, slapping a hand over your mind not to wake his parents. "So much noise about some stockings."

"Hey, you scolded me for ripping them in the first place. And I'm a man of my word."

"Okay, okay you gentleman." you tease, turning to look at him and however his face isn't totally visible, you can make out his soft features and his cheeks stretch in a grin.

The paper bag from the shop with your new stockings in it rests in the corner of the room, reminding you that Jungkook really is a man of his word.

"You still have our pink friend at mine." he reminds you suddenly, your brows pinching together in confusion before realization hits you all of a sudden and your whole body heats with embarrassment.

"Oh my god," you exclaim, "Why would you even mention that?" you scold him, nudging him in his chest as he snorts at you.

"I ordered and bought it for you. What should I do with it? I'm not gonna stick it in my ass."

"Oh my god," you repeat your previous words, laughing as Jungkook shushes you, doing an awful job at being quiet too because he's laughing too. "What do you know? Maybe it'd feel nice." you joke, listening to him disapproving but he muffles his laugh and mouth with his arm as he hides his face.

As much as it's funny, it's another reminder that the deal between you two has already ended and the mention of your pink friend (as he called it) was the final drop. And you almost tell him that you don't want it, because you won't probably use it if it's not with him. And you almost gasp at that thought, mentally slapping yourself.

He's your best friend Y/N, you remind yourself.

And you finally understand the crave you had for him today. It's not only because you miss sex (because Jungkook is fantastic at it), or because you just crave a touch of someone else.

It's because Jungkook wasn't the only one who was craving love and having that someone who cares for you. You were doing the same all along.

[lilypadeater]

Break Me Down

Rick Grimes x Fem!Reader

Summary- Rick and Hershel's oldest daughter can't keep their eyes off each other. They go to retrieve some walkers for the barn. Rick is kind of an asshole so ig this is angsty too. Enemies to loves

Content information: unedited, 18+, smut, p in v unprotected, choking i guess, enemies to lovers, age gap (mid 20s and early 40s), angst, plot, asshole rick, flirting, pet names, making out, fluff, some walker killing

Your eyes scanned over Rick as he helped your father with farming chores. You already disliked the idea a group of strangers living on the farm, but their leader's cold behavior towards you made you hate it. You didn't understand why Rick was so harsh to you compared to the rest of the family. He treated your younger sisters, Maggie and Beth, completely normal. But whenever you tried to strike up a conversation, he would try to immediately end it or give you dry responses. He wasn't like this with anyone else, so you couldn't understand why he was like this with you.

The strangest part of it all was how he would look at you. Was is in a murderous or flirtatious way? You couldn't tell. What you did know though, was that you found him attractive. Guilt ate at you whenever you caught yourself staring at him.

'He has a wife and a son. And I'm pretty sure he hates me.' You remind yourself when you noticed you'd been glancing at him too much. He was cleaning the stables with Daryl. You decided to take one more look at him before directing you attention back to feeding the chickens. But as you took your last peek, you accidentally lock eyes with him, making it obvious that you were staring. You quickly turn your head and go back to sprinkling seeds around for the chickens.

Rick's eyes roamed over you as timidly looked away. A smirk was plastered on his face when he realized you'd been staring. Hershel would probably kill him if he found out how much he wanted fuck you. Rick would never risk his group getting kicked off the farm just for some girl.

The problem was, in his eyes, you were a diamond in the rough. You weren't just some girl. Seeing you help Carl when he was shot, caring for the animals with so much love, and your kindness towards everyone made his realize just how rare you really were. This kind of naiveness wasn't something you could find in the apocalypse. You were beautiful inside and out and you were the perfect distraction from Lori and Shane.

When you finished up feeding the animals, you were approached by your father. "I was gonna show Rick how to retrieve the sick and put them into the barn, but it's much too hot for me. You're the oldest of your sisters and most experienced at this, so I need you to take him down to the swamp and rescue our neighbors." He explains.

You sigh in irritation. You disagreed with your father when it came to the subject of walkers. You believed they were no longer the people they used to be and they couldn't be saved. You've tried to explain this to him multiple times, but it always ends in an argument. "Fine," you agreed. You hated having to go near the walkers, but on the bright side, you were going to be able to spend some time with Rick and find out why he didn't like you.

You led Rick into the forest with the leashes. There was an awkward silence between you two. "I know my dad explained his version of the world to you already, but I just wanted to tell you that I don't agree with his ideology." You announced, breaking the ice.

"At least you have more sense than him." He replied. You nodded and guided him to the swamp that had trapped with two walkers with it's mud.

You took the leash and carefully approached one of them. You began to explain how to catch one, "You have to get it around their neck, and hold them about and arms width away otherwise-'" You slipped on the mud and and accidentally let the walker loose. It immediately lunges for you but Rick shoots it. It falls into the mud and you scramble to your feet. "Oh my god, thank you." You tell him with a panicked and breathless voice.

"Was that a part of catching them?" He mockingly asks. He crosses his arms in impatience and watches you get up.

You furrow your eyebrows in disdain and and feel you face flush with embarrassment. "Yeah it is. Probably the most crucial part." You reply sarcastically. 'He looks so hot, such a shame he's dick.' You thought to yourself as he took his leash and captured the second walker.

Rick loved getting under your skin. Seeing your flustered face made his heart race and forget all about Lori and Shane. Your witty remarks back to him would make him forget that the world's gone to shit. He decided to further your irritation and say, "So all you do is look pretty and feed the animals?"

Your heart jumped when he called you pretty. You retorted, "You just sit around while your wife get knocked up by other men?" You realized what you said was harsh and might've crossed a boundary, but you were sick of his attitude towards you.

"She ain't my wife anymore." He mutters, keeping his focus on the walker he's leading.

Guilt crept up on you. Sure, he was an asshole, but you weren't. You couldn't swoop to his level, so you sigh and say, "I'm sorry. That was rude of me, I was just bothered by what you said."

He smirks and shakes his head. "S'alright."

You tried to walk the rest of the way in silence, apart from the snarls of the walker Rick had on the leash. But the question of why he was always cold to you played in your head. 'If he wanted to murder me, he would've let the walker eat me. Is there a chance he might be, interested in me?' Now you just had to know.

You came to a sudden stop and turned towards him. He was confused by your actions and stopped along side you. "Why'd we stop?" He asks, annoyed with you.

You ignore his question and ask him, "Why do you hate me?"

He was taken aback by your bluntness and shrugged. "I don't hate you," he replies and takes a step closer to you, meeting your doe eyes with his piercing blue ones. "I think you're beautiful."

Your eyes widen with surprise and your cheeks heat up. You glance to the ground then look back up. "Then why are you so mean to me?" You quietly asked.

He smiles before leaning in closing to you. "I like seeing your pretty face all red." He replies as he pushes a strand of hair away from your face. "I hate that I can't have you." He mutters as he kisses your forehead.

Your body is rushing with adrenaline and serotonin. "You can." You whisper before wrapping your hands around his chiseled face and kissing him. His free hand wrapped around your waist as he deepened the kiss, but the snarl of the walker brought you both back to reality.

He back the walker up against a tree and smashed its head with the metal part of the leash. "Whoops." He said as it fell to the floor.

"Why'd you do that? My dad's gonna be pissed." You complained, ready to scold him, but he grabbed your head and crashed his lips onto yours. You lean into it and gasp when one of his hands traveled from your face to your thigh. You could feel yourself getting wet as his hand creeped up to the hem of your shorts. You break away from the heated make out session to catch your breath. "Fuck, let's go somewhere else." You tell him in between breathes and he lifts you into his arms.

You directed him towards a nearby abandoned cottage. He checks the area out to make sure it's safe before taking you inside. You push him onto the bed and climb on top of him. You pull his shirt off and admire his toned body. "You had your turn," he smirks and flips you over so that he's on top. He takes you shirt off and it reveals your bare breasts. He leans in and kisses your neck, slowly making his way down. You shivered at the feeling and your hands gripped his back.

His hands slid down to the waistband of your shorts, making your skin tingle under his warm touch. He pulled your shorts off in a swift motion and looked amused when it revealed your soaked underwear. “S’this all for me, angel? I barely touched you and look at all this.” Rick teased as he yanked it off you and threw it to the the side. You whimpered in response, blushing in embarrassment and wrapping your hands around his muscular torso.

His fingers went up and down your slit, causing you to whine in anticipation before he began rubbing your clit. The new sensation produced whimpers and moans from you, but he was clearly going slow as a form of torture for you. You tried you grind against his fingers in order to reach your release but his other hand quickly held you hips down. You squirmed around but his hold on you was strong and he took pleasure in seeing you hot and bothered. You cry out in frustration, craving more friction and speed.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” He mutters with a sadistic smile. Two fingers enter your pussy as he continues to tease your clit with his thumb.

You breathlessly manage to whine “I need you in me” as he edges you. He feels his cock throbbing in his jeans as the words leave your mouth.

“You’re gonna be grateful I’m getting you ready for it” he hissed and added a third finger, stretching your needy cunt. You arch your back and moan loudly as your pussy clenches around his fingers. After you come down from your high, you sit up and your hands quickly work to undo his belt. Your eyes widened when you saw his rock hard cock under the denim of his jeans. It was massive. Before you could unbutton his jeans, he grabbed you and flipped you onto your stomach.

You hear the sound of his jeans falling to the floor as you get onto yours knees and elbows. Your pussy was on display for him. His large hand wrapped around your waist as he brought the tip of his cock to your entrance. You turn your head to see and nearly gasp when you see how large he his is. “There’s no way in hell it’s gonna fit” You whine and squirm.

He comfortingly rubs your back with his hand and replies “it will, baby. It’ll only hurt a little, but I’ll be gentle.” His words gave you some comfort and he slowly pushed into your drenched cunt. It was uncomfortable and painful when he stretched your walls with his huge cock, but the pain was eased as you adjusted. He filled you up completely and groaned when he felt your tight count wrapped around him. “I’m gonna start moving, ‘kay baby?” You nodded in approval and be began slowly thrusting. He gripped your hips roughly as he rammed into you, definitely bruising you. You moaned in ecstasy as he met your g spot in every thrust.

Rick had thrown his previous statement out the window as he roughly fucked you into oblivion. He wrapped his hand around your neck and it sent chills down your spine. It sent you over the edge as your walls clenched around his cock. Your legs trembled and gave out, but his hand quick grabbed your hip and held you up.

“Fuck, you’re so tight” He hissed, his thrusts becoming sloppy. You mewled at the overstimulation of being fucked through your orgasm and clenched around him again. His thrusts finally stopped as he finished inside of you, filling you up with his cum. He pulls out and you stretch out the bed, exhausted. He lays next you, gently stroking your hair.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

this is my first time writing smut

HOLY FUCK THAT WAS SO MUCH IM NEVER GONNA BE THE SAME

give me requests!

[bun3333s]

Yandere MBTI Scaramouche

Cruel Aware Manipulative Strict

note: Using the structure from the wonderful @ddarker-dreams !! Scara is my baby girl and I adore him… so I hope I did him justice. I’m super new to actually writing anything like this, so any feedback or comments are appreciated <3 Note that these headcanons are in regards to pre-Wanderer Scaramouche, quote and image from 'The “Divine Will' story teaser. Mild spoilers for his backstory.

1.2k words

contains: yandere, mental/physical/emotional abuse, kidnapping/confinement, gn reader insert (”you” pronouns used), murder and violence (non-graphic), angst (?)

“My chest will never again be defiled by worldly filth”

Cruel vs Reverent

> He’s akin to a mistreated stray cat, but in that same vein, I do think that inwardly he’s much more fond of you than he’ll ever let show. This really depends on what phase of his life you meet in, and under what circumstances. If you met before the proverbial shit hit the fan, he’s much more likely to hold you with tenderness, near and dear to his heart. Especially with a kind darling, I could see him falling into the reverent category. Inwardly, of course. He would sooner die than let you know about these mushy feelings he has (even if he keeps you on a leash beside him at all times, and anyone with eyes could see that something is happening between you two). Regardless of whether you meet in his ‘softer’ era or not, there’s still a 100% chance he’s going to be a snarky, cold, degrading bastard.

> We all know this man has abandonment issues pro max, and his attitude is part of the way he’s coped. At the core of this, I imagine he holds an incredibly deep-rooted sense of insecurity. From Ei throwing him out for not meeting her standards, to the perceived rejection and betrayal from seemingly everyone else he cared for — to him, he must blame himself. He’s the common denominator. Had he simply never loved these people, he wouldn’t have had to go through all that pain when they left him.

> Then, comes along you. And I just know this man is seething — you’re ruining his way of life with the way your eyes twinkle in the sun and the warmth that floods his chest at your smile. He’s considered going to a professional about that, trying to find any way to avoid the inevitable. Surely that radiant feeling in his chest is what normal people call a fever, right? The electricity running through his veins burning hotter than normal? By the time he realizes his feelings for darling, he’s absolutely pissed. This would just be another point of weakness. More than anything though, he’s mad at himself. He’s mad because he’s been debased to such primal desires, because he’s scared to go through the agony of loss yet again. He’s terrified at the notion of depending on someone else. He swore to never be weak like that again, and that isn’t changing any time soon.

> But at the same time, it doesn’t matter how much he despises you (or rather, the way you make him see himself) because you make this bleak world so much more bearable. The scramble for power is exhausting in and of itself. To go through countless years of pain, experiments, and labor on your own, knowing that developing an attachment to anyone could be tantamount to failure? Excruciating. He has so little left to hold onto in the world, so when you come along, he sinks his claws in so deep it’s as if he’s trying to become one with you. As if your union will wash his sins away and you, his lifeline to heaven. Or maybe simply to a life where he can love again.

> He doesn’t know love without pain, and frankly, he’s not sure which is worse at this point. He’s so afraid you’ll see in him what everyone else did and leave — hold his heart in both hands to shatter — that he’ll never let you get that close in the first place. Scara is even more snappy with his darling than with others; the instinct to bite and scratch and claw at anyone getting too close to him. This, of course, conflicts with a similarly intense desire to hold you, praise you; worship at your altar for giving his life meaning.

> Basically he’s a tsundere but way more sadistic and with a lot of issues. He will verbally abuse you almost every time his mouth opens, and being his darling is tantamount to enrolling in psychological warfare. Absolutely would not shy away from physical punishment either. Definitely has a thing for seeing his marks on you. The fury, self-betrayal, frustration and grief — all of it gets redirected to the unfortunate object of his affections instead.

Aware vs Delusional

> Now, he isn’t some monster without feelings or something like that. He’s just a monster with very repressed feelings. I can imagine Scara actually feeling some remorse, you would just never be able to tell with the glee he possesses when torturing you.

> This goes back to how his cruel treatment is a manifestation of his insecurity again (doesn’t everything about this man?). After a particularly harsh punishment, or maybe just when passively observing your pathetic state, a pang of sorrow hits his chest. He thinks it might be time to look into a new body for himself. One that isn’t quite as… inconvenient. There’s somewhere deep down, hidden in a crack after a particularly brutal battle, where he thinks that he deserves this. He doesn’t deserve to have you; to hold you freely. Yet, he needs you more than anything else. It’s selfish, cruel, pitiful — every negative adjective you could pull from a dictionary. Scara is far past the point of caring much for morality, but it’s you he’s hurting, so it’s only fair that he hurts in silence alongside his beloved. There’s a strange understanding between the two of you. About hurt and love. About pretending to be asleep when he cards lithe fingers through your hair at night, ignoring the soft sounds of something wet hitting the pillows every so often.

> At the end of the day, he knows what he’s doing is wrong. Do you think he doesn’t catch your disdain? The hopeful glances out of windows? Don’t take him for a fool. He’s just a man in love without the luxury of loving. Scara has a multitude of issues, but perhaps unluckily for darling, awareness isn’t one of them. Sometimes you think it might be easier to live if you never saw that twinkle of pity in his eyes, back before you learned to falsify your slumber when he returned in the dead of night. Other times, you hope that twinkle sparks something in his mechanical body and burns this all to ashes.

Manipulative vs Honest

> This is probably the one where Scara isn’t entirely at one end or the other. In terms of emotional manipulation, he’s honest with you for the most part… the issue is that for the rest of the time, he’ll just refuse to answer.

> “why am I here?” “because I want you here.”

> “what do you want from me?” “to stay here.”

> He gets points for being straightforward but loses all of them when he showcases the emotional maturity of a grumpy toddler.

> The lack of emotional maturity and his own raging internal battlefield of emotions is part of the reason why I find it difficult to see him as some sort of manipulator — I’m not entirely sure our little guy has the facilities for that long-term. The bigger reason I struggle to see him as an emotional manipulator is because he’s suffered so much from it. He does, however, omit a large amount of information from darling.

> Now… physical/financial manipulation, threats and violence — these are all on the table. Scara knows he isn’t exactly the epitome of kindness or desirability to you, so how does he capture his darling? Through the previously mentioned means of course!

> Do you have a family or loved ones? Better pray he uses his Fatui connections to only bankrupt instead of massacring them. There isn’t any low Scara wouldn’t stoop to in order to have you in his grasp. He’ll pay off all your family’s debt if you come with him - or better yet - he’ll let them live to see another day! So how about it?

> It doesn’t really matter how you answer, because at the end of the day, he can always resort to brute force.

Strict vs Lenient

> If the abandonment issues didn’t give it away already, this man is neurotic about you — what you do, where you are, where you look, the way you look. It feels as if you aren’t in his line of sight he thinks you’ll disappear. His grip on you is always a bit too firm. Scara holds you like the moment he lets go he’ll wake up and remember that you left too.

> His unrelenting chastising and ‘reminders’ (read: abuse) serve not only to assert total control over you but to reassure himself as well. After all, you can’t leave him if he has total control over your everything.

> He doubts he can truly be your everything like you are to him, so this suffices as a close second. If he can find a way to own everything you do and everything that makes you, you then that can be good enough. It has to be. He can be your everything still; just in a different way.

aHHhh thanks for reading !!! hope you enjoyed <3

[littleliterarylesbian]

Dating Regulus Black is great. Amazing. Fantastic. Spectacular even! James can't even imagine for how long he's dreamed of being in his current position with the title "Regulus Black's Boyfriend."

But that doesn't mean his lover can't get a bit... odd. He would never call Regulus crazy, of course not. James loves all of him, including the little bits that others wouldn't be able to handle. But James can handle them. Because he's James.

However he would not be able to survive what he just did. Oh, he truly didn't mean to knock over the cauldron, he was just distracted! Regulus gave him a kiss and a loving pat on the cheek and told him to watch... something before walking out and James had sighed, putting his elbow on the table to sigh happily, resting his face in his hand and suddenly bam.

Spilled all over the floor, a gross sludge from half infused (melted? he's never been sure how ingredients just kind of disappeared when it came time to bottle them) materials and a sizzling sound coming from the more liquid parts as it melted into the stone floor.

Fuck.

He goes to scramble, trying to pick up the cauldron only for it to burn. He yelps, dropping it quickly and shaking off his hand. He tries to look around for something else because, well, an upset Regulus is not good. Especially if he's the one who caused it. He never wants to make Regulus upset. He thinks, if he did, he'd quite possibly collapse into a heap of nothing.

He runs to the door, poking his head out for anyone who could possibly help. No one down in the dungeons particularly likes him, or at least like him enough to save him from his boyfriend's impending wrath but maybe if he begs hard enough someone will take pity on him.

But then James catches sight of an angel. His saving grace.

"Moony!" He hisses loudly, and he watches Remus look around confused for a second before spotting him.

"Moony! Over here!"

Remus sighs, adjusting his bag, and slowly walking over. James can tell that he probably looks as panicked as he is, hair a mess from when he ran his fingers through it and eyes wide and glasses crooked.

"What did you get yourself into?"

"This is not the time for jokes Moony! This is life or death! My life or death!"

"What did you do?" There's suspicion in Remus' voice that James, in any other circumstance, would be at least slightly offended at. But no, Remus is the perfect person who could have come his way.

"I knocked over Regulus' cauldron."

He watches as Remus furrows his brows, leaning in and peaking over James' shoulder.

"What? How the fuck did you manage that?"

"I don't know! I wasn't paying attention!" Remus makes an 'ahh' sound, pressing his lips together, but James ignores it. Whatever revelation Moony had is not as important as James' future chance at life.

"You're dating Sirius, you know Regulus, you know how this can end, now help me." He hisses as he grabs Remus by the collar and drags him inside.

[haunting-venus]

line 'em up and measure ↳ lo'ak sully x male!human!reader

content warnings | smut ( mdni ), characters are aged up, brief description of wounds, slight intoxication, mutual masturbation, literal dick measuring contest, xenophilia ( alien biology ), dirty talk, praise

word count: 3995

notes | this was originally supposed to be for the last day of @eywaite and @tallulah477 romancing pandora event, but life got in the way. still, i couldn't get this out of my head so please enjoy this now !

na'vi dictionary | narlor — beautiful ( visually )

It was stupid—absolutely fucking insane, really—the situation you’ve planted yourself in. You knew you were a trespasser, not looked upon with any grace by Eywa on this exomoon but fuck, this must be some kind of sick joke.

“Dude, my dick is definitely nicer than yours.” Lo’ak’s cheeks are flushed with alcohol, grin toothy and shit-eating as his knee bumps yours.

You’d come across the Omatikaya purely by chance—a lone xenobotanist presumed dead after the tragic and fiery crash of your research team’s buggy in the depths of Pandora’s forests. You’d been warned about the local indigenous population, of course, and had been explicitly told your group was not important enough to risk more lives should you fuck up this exploration.

No one was looking for you, and you were alone on an alien planet with nothing but a scalpel and a faulty research tablet.

You’d wandered for hours, bleeding and disoriented, ears ringing with the impact of your buggy into the tree and heart pounding in fear at the inescapable situation you were now in. You were certain that you were smaller than anything in this forest, and that your sluggishly bleeding wounds and pounding headache would soon make you easy prey for whatever roamed in these woods.

You’d thought the time had finally come as you gasped against a tree for air, vision blurring with pain as your legs shook with the exertion to keep you upright. The air was rife with beastly screeching, the sound so high-pitched you thought briefly that this might be what death sounds like. The deafening flapping of giant wings had you scrambling to the forest floor, using the last of your strength to move pitifully away from the gnashing jaws of the creature who landed in front of you.

You were able to catch a glimpse of worried golden eyes and a lean blue frame that towered over you before the world slipped into inky blackness.

You’d learned afterwards that the Omatikaya did routine patrols in the areas known to the RDA, scheduled bouts of precautionary scouting should the Earth’s military ever stray too far from their boundaries. Well, you’d strayed a lot, apparently.

The man who’d saved you had carried you in a princess hold before the chief, his strong arm holding up your back and looped under your bent knees. It should’ve been embarrassing, you thought, a grown man having to be carried like a ragdoll by a stranger who was bargaining for your life to be saved. Then again, you didn’t exactly have time to worry about how tough you looked when you were on the verge of slipping unconscious again.

It had taken over a week in the medical care of the nearby human outpost before you were on your feet again, body weak from dehydration and healing minor fractures. The man who saved you, Lo’ak, came to check on you regularly, asking questions about your life and your intentions—how you’d wandered into the Omaticaya borders, why you were traveling in the forest, if you had any trackers on you, if anyone was following you.

After several days of him poking and prodding at you with questions, he returned with a much more intimidating man at his back—The chief, Jake Sully, adorned in ornate feathered regalia and a stern expression.

You knew you were best off telling the truth—you were a researcher with many injuries, nowhere else to go, and of no harm to any of the People. You’d even offered to leave once you healed, return to the RDA encampment with tight lips and fake amnesia, though Jake Sully had quickly brushed that off. It was in the People’s best interest that the RDA never knew you came in contact with them, and the only way you could do that was by never returning.

You were met with a mix of fear and anger from the local population. You were an intruder, an unwanted reminder of just how closely war knocked at their doorstep. It would’ve been easy to feel isolated, a bird without a nest.

Except you were surrounded with the most incredible flora and fauna you had ever laid your eyes on, the lands near the village so much more rife with life than the secluded bases of the RDA. The scientists at the outpost just outside the village welcomed you eagerly, sharing their notes and knowledge and living space with open arms. Then, of course, there was Lo’ak.

Lo’ak was a friend, one of the few that you’d acquired in the months since the crash. Turns out, one of his best friends was a human boy who’d grown up in the labs outside the Na’vi encampments, Spider, so he was neither scared nor angry with you. He was mostly curious, poking and prodding you with questions about Earth and showing you hidden wonders of the Forest when he got a rare day off.

He was also damn beautiful—tall and indigo-skinned, with lean muscles and swirling tattoos over the length of his strong arms and the curve of his ribs. You would be able to get over your little infatuation with some ease, you’d met plenty of good-looking people in your life, except he wasn’t just beautiful. He was fucking kind too, and it drove you nuts. 

So yes, Lo’ak was beautiful, funny and kind. He made you feel safe and wanted in a world that wanted to kill you at every turn, and he did it with the most endearingly toothy smile you’d ever seen.

He was also the chief’s son, which made him explicitly off-limits even if you did have any chance in any multiverse of getting to be with him. Which was exactly why you shouldn’t be in this situation right now, lazing together on a couch that is far too small for the two of you, passing a leather flask of pxir that was quickly emptying.

You must have been more drunk than you thought, letting the rogue idea slip between your teeth. It was supposed to be a joke, really—a dumb quip about how much you missed getting dicked down back on Earth. Your options were extremely limited, even more than they had been in the RDA outpost. At least over there there had been some sexually repressed military guys to get it on with. Here, everyone was either decades your senior, or definitely not your type.

“You just need to get some Na’vi cock. It’ll make you forget all about whatever puny action you were getting on Earth, bro.” Lo’ak laughed

 You were two young men, tipsy and comfortable with one another, it was completely natural to talk about sex. You knew that the Na’vi were extremely comfortable with sex, seeing it as a connection between life forms, something natural and beautiful. Plus, humans were inherently curious, not to mention repressed and hormonal. You figured that sexual experimentation between the two species was something nearly inevitable.

Still, it made you hot beneath the collar, having Lo’ak’s eyes so keen on you with hazy comfort as he suggests you get down and dirty with a Na’vi. With someone like him.

“Hey, watch how you talk about human cock. I’ve still got one, dude.” You scoff, taking another deep swig of the bitter alcohol. It’s always been so easy this way, hiding your discomfort behind sarcasm and dumb jokes. “Besides, it can’t be all that different.”

“Dude, my dick is definitely nicer than yours.”

It should be insulting. It is insulting, you tell yourself. That’s why your cheeks flush so devastatingly red, definitely. “Oh, fuck you, pretty boy. If that’s what you tell yourself to sleep at night, go ahead.”

“Well, there’s one way to find out.” Lo’ak’s eyes glisten with amusement, obviously reveling in the dumbstruck look on your face.

That was another thing you’d come to love about Lo’ak. He was always competitive, even over the stupidest things, even with stuff that will get him smacked or killed. He jumps at any opportunity to prove to himself and others that he was capable and brave. It usually made your heart flutter with admiration, now it just puts you on edge.

“You’re not seriously suggesting to whip it out, are you?” You chuckle

“What, you’re scared I might be right?” He goads.You’re about to deny him, about to insist you’ve had too much to drink when you’re barely even feeling a buzz so you can  

Except that Lo’ak is already pulling his hips up from the couch, moving to sit up on the arm of the seat so he can untie his loincloth. His muscled torso stretches while he extends his body, black swirling lines of tattoos he acquired with the reef tribes etched down his ribs and tapering just at the edge of the v-line leading into his bottoms.

It’s completely stupid and irrational. It’s definitely something that could get you smacked or even exiled if people found out. Hell, Lo’ak could never talk to you again if he knew what dirty things were running through your mind. It’s also the start of every stupid, dirty fantasy you’ve been unable to repress for months.

If you were a stronger man, you’d get up and leave. Except, you’re not.

“Alright, pretty boy. Put your money where your mouth is.”

Lo’ak’s grin is a little smaller than before, still confident but edged with something that seems bashful, his tail swinging leisurely behind him. It only takes a few tugs of his practiced fingers for the leather of his loincloth to loosen, then fall to the tiled ground of your room.

You feel ashamed for looking, even though that was the whole point of this stupid competition, if it could even be called that. You try to keep your face neutral as Lo’ak lighty spreads his legs, brows furrowing a bit. The apex of Lo’ak’s legs resembles more of a human female’s anatomy than anything. His skin is smooth, hairless just as the rest of his body, the darker stripes on his skin narrowing to a slit in his crotch

You swallow heavily, tucking one of your legs up to your chest to hopefully obscure the growing bulge in your shorts. You try to keep your voice even, teasing, even as it shakes. “From where I’m standing, looks like there’s nothing to compare, bro.”

“Fuck off, just give me a second.” Lo’ak mutters, cheeks warm as he brings a hand between his own legs. “Only humans are dumb enough to have their shit hanging out all the damn time.”

You’re glad to see a flush on Lo’ak’s cheeks, hear the gruff rasp of his voice. It’s comforting to know you’re not the only one a little affected, and you feel a bit of hope blossom inside your chest.

His fingers move between his legs, parting the slit with soft movements, his fingers shining with slick between his legs as he coaxes the opening open. He keeps his lips tight, chest moving with heavy breaths at each of his own touches.

Your eyes are rapt at his every movement, heart pounding .You briefly wonder if this is how he touches himself when he’s all alone, if he makes the same heavy breaths and twitches of his ears.

It takes only moments for something to begin breaching the folds of Lo’ak’s slit, his breath coming a little heavier. Slowly, a cock emerges from the sheath inside his body, a lighter shade of blue tapering to pinkish at the tip. There’s no balls that follow it, though the base seems a bit swollen as he hangs at half-mast before you. 

“Whoa.” You clear your throat quickly, averting your gaze from Lo’ak’s laughing eyes. “Thought you’d be bigger, honestly.”

It’s a big fat lie, and an obvious one too. Even without being fully hard, Lo’ak’s cock almost easily matches the length of your forearm.

“Oh, fuck off. I can smell you, you know. I know just what you think of your first Na’vi cock.” His tone isn’t malicious, just teasing, each word laced with 

Your face flushes, fingers twitching anxiously against your thigh that still sits tucked up against you. It’s easy to forget how superior Na’vi senses are when you spend so little time with them, especially outside of the lab. You briefly wonder if Lo’ak has been able to tell every time you’ve felt a flare of arousal in his presence, if he had connected the dots that your brain constantly wandered to your filthiest thoughts in his presence.

He leans forward, pressing one hand on the arm of the couch behind you. He’s close now, his breath near ghosting over your face as his eyes search yours. “Your turn. Not much of a competition if I’m the only one showing off, now is it?”

This is quickly treading into dangerous territory, something that sobers you up quicker than any water of coffee could. Lo’ak’s hand is still cradling his length, just ghosting lightly along the enlarged base as he leans over you with his muscled body. You know you’re hard, can feel the blood rushing from your head to pound between your thighs, can feel your length pressing uncomfortably against the cotton of your shorts. Unlike him, there’s nowhere for you to hide, no way to conceal just how affected you are.

You feel like you’re free-falling, diving head first into all the emotions you’d convinced yourself would be better off tucked away. Part of you wanted to keep it all at arm’s length, to let this be a moment of lust, another memory to be tucked away. The other part wanted to jump in feet first, consequences be damned, fuck the fallout.

You steel your nerves as Lo’ak backs off a little, giving you the space to undo the buttons of your pants. You know you can end this all with a few words, that if it really bothered you Lo’ak would forget this ever happened and never bring it up again, because he was that kind of guy. Except, you’re sure you aren’t imagining the lingering heat in Lo’ak’s gaze, or the excited flick of his tail as his eyes follow the movements of your fingers as you drop your pants.

You don’t need visual confirmation to know you’re already hard and leaking, the tip of your cock red and aching as your fingers ghost along your thighs.

“Looks like I win.” Lo’ak’s voice is breathier than before, his knee brushing against your leg as he lingers closely to you. His hand still sits close to his own cock, which has made no signs of retreating back into his body.

“Okay, you’re obviously gonna be bigger than me. You’re a fucking giant.” Your face flushes, trying to ignore the throb in your cock as Lo’ak’s eyes trail across your body.

“Don’t be so hateful, bro. No one likes a sore loser.” 

“Yeah, well, at least I have more stamina than you.” It’s so easy to slip back into teasing sarcasm, like a shield you can put around yourself to keep all the confusing emotions at arm’s length. It helps you feel some control that has been steadily slipping away, grasp onto some sort of reality.

Lo’ak just chuckles lowly. “More stamina? I’m a trained warrior, bro. Stamina is my game.”

You snort, trying desperately to forget the fact that you’re both naked beneath the waist. “You’re the most reckless fucker I’ve ever met. I bet you blow your load in two seconds.”

“Oh, come on, you’re the pent up little scientist. You really think you can last longer than me?” Lo’ak’s voice deepens, one of his hands trailing up across the outside of your thigh as he shadows over you.

“Try me.”

Lo’ak’s mouth is on yours before you have a chance to regret the challenge. He’s so much bigger than you, and the way his entire mouth encompasses yours is strange but not unpleasant. One of his hands eagerly comes up under your shirt and along your ribs, the other holding up his weight on the couch behind you. You run your fingers up along the planes of his body, tracing the ridges of his ribs and the curve of his shoulders, to embed them in your memory.

He gasps as he pulls away from you, his hips dipping to nudge his hardening cock against your hip as he leaves a line of wet kisses from the corner of your mouth to underneath your jaw. You vaguely register his tail thumping excitedly into the plush of the couch, the way his ears twitch forward to catch every hitch of your breathing.

“Shit, you’re so hot.” Lo’ak’s voice mumbles across your skin, canines grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as he pushes himself closer to you.

“Touch yourself.” You gasp, tightening your grip on Lo’ak’s bicep as he pushes his hips down into you.

Lo’ak pauses. “What?”

“Come on, you wanted to talk a big game. Let’s see how long you really last.” Your grin is devilish, edged with excitement and desire as you trail your fingers teasingly across the muscle of his arms. You delight in the little shiver that passes through him.

“Wouldn’t you rather be the one to touch me?” His voice is raspy, breathless as he nibbles along the curve of your neck.

“Oh, where’s the fun in that, pretty boy?” You bite your lip in a grin, resting your forehead along his own. “We want this to be a fair trial, and having my skilled hands on you could definitely skew the results.”

Lo’ak laughs, removing his hand reluctantly from your ribs to palm along his own cock. “Fine, no touching. For your results.”

You can feel yourself steadily losing control as you lean back and watch Lo’ak—the way he teasingly trails his fingers down his own chest and across his cock, the little gasp he lets out when he tightens his fingers around the base, the desperate hitching of his hips as he keeps his eyes firmly on you as he works himself over.

Lo’ak’s eyes flick expectantly towards your own hard cock, moaning loud as he finally sees you grip yourself in your palm. You’re so sensitive and it’s been so long, each touch feels magnified with Lo’ak above you, watching your every move with panting breaths. Lo’ak slows his movements on himself a bit, moving to grip himself at the swollen base of his cock. His reaction is immediate, a deep groan vibrating through his chest as his eyes roll a bit.

You tighten your grip on the base, heat shooting through you as you drink in the sounds of Lo’ak’s moans. Fuck, of course he’s loud. Your lips brush against his own as you speak. “Jesus, the sounds you make are fucking incredible.” 

A knowing smile reaches across Lo’ak’s flushed face. He parts his lips to run over yours, drinking in the sigh you let out. “Really? Well, you’ve got a pretty incredible mouth too.”

“S-shut up-” You gasp. You know you should go slow because some stupid part of you still wants to win, to make Lo’ak come undone first because of you. Yet, you can’t help the way your fist tightens at each wet little gasp coming from Lo’ak’s mouth, the way your hand quickens around yourself as you watch his pretty cock move through his fist.

“It’s true. You don’t know how many times I’ve done this thinking of your stupid smart mouth, how it would feel.” Your breath hitches at Lo’ak’s words, each breath emphasized with the roll of his hips into his own fist.

“Oh, oh, shit.” You know your desperation is seeping into your tone, suppressed moans barely being hidden by your gritted teeth. You’ve always been weak to Lo’ak, and now is no exception, especially now with the admission that he’s thought of you before.

“You look so sexy like this, all spread out under me. You know, you’re always calling me pretty boy but you’re putting me to shame here, narlor.” Lo’ak’s eyes are hazy but calculating, watching each expression on your face as the filth he’s saying echoes into the air around you. He has a look in his eye, like he knows he’s winning.

“Oh fuck you.” You groan, your hips moving desperately up into your hand. You can feel the heat of Lo’ak’s body encompassing you, the head of your cock brushing against his leg with each movement of your hips. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Hah, really?” Lo’ak gasps. The sly grin that comes across his face is all the confirmation you need.

“You’re trying to get me off, by…by saying that stuff. I-it’s cheating.” You moan as your fingers snag against the head of your cock, catching the precum leaking from your tip to slicken the slide of your fist.

“Oh, that wasn’t in the rules,” he teases, licking a stripe up your neck. He lowers himself closer to you, the head of his cock bumping against your stomach where your shirt has ridden up. “Not my fault I can’t stop thinking how perfect you’d feel wrapped around me.”

Fuck, you don’t know if he means your mouth or your ass but it really doesn’t matter, either one of the images sending your brain into a frenzy. A moan rips through you, fingers twisting around your cock. It’s so easy to picture how Lo’ak would look inside you, or how he would fall apart on your fingers. It has you hurtling dangerously close to the edge.

Your breath quickens as you look up into Lo’ak’s eyes, dark pools ringed with the slightest amount of gold. His tail coils around himself, wrapping possessively around your shin.

“Fuck, look at you. It’s like you’re out of a wet dream.” Lo’ak grits his teeth, pushing his cock up against you as he strokes himself. You can see the slick from his slit dripping across his cock and down his thighs, a sweet and musky smell coating the air.

“Hah, have a lot of d-dreams about me?” You tease, but your voice is thready, more pleading than asking.

He grins against your lips. “Maybe. Wouldn’t you like to know.”

And fuck the thought has you reeling. It’s so easy to see Lo’ak in your mind, waking up hot and needy to dirty thoughts of you, half-asleep as he stuffs a fist in his mouth and strokes himself to completion with your name on his lips.

“S-shit, shit, Lo’ak, I-” your breaths come in quick gasps, too turned on to care about any embarrassing sounds that are leaking from your throat.Your body is thrumming with energy as heat coils tightly in your stomach.

“I want you to come, narlor. Right now, on me.” Lo’ak groans and you can feel his fist bumping into your hip with his rapid movements. Your eyes are clenched shut, riding the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm 

“Come, let me see it. Now.” His voice is urgent, pleading.

“Oh, f—uh-”

The muscles in your thighs clench as you buck up into your fist, your cock bumping Lo’ak as you come across your fist and stomach, smearing your release onto your partner with each movement onto Lo’ak. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder, a moan tumbling from your throat as you come harder than you ever had. Maybe there was something to Lo’ak’s theory about Na’vi cock after all.

Lo’ak isn’t far behind you, panting into your mouth as his hips move unsteadily against you. His throat strains around a loud groan, and you’re able to open your eyes just soon enough to see his face scrunch in pleasure, ears twitching with each rolling wave of pleasure pulsing through him. 

You try to commit the look to memory, down to the lopsided and dopey grin that stretches across his face. Lo’ak sighs with satisfaction, his dirty hand coming to rub softly across your hip. “Told you I would win.”

You can’t help the giddy smile that comes across your face, giving a peck to his grinning lips. “Best two out of three?”

[nametakensff]

I like you too (S/teddie)

So after fucking forever I have finally finished the ~getting together~ fic of my mutual fetish AU 💕 Anyone who is still interested after like a year of teasing this shit, I hope you enjoy 17.8k of these idiots 🥲❤️

Following his embarrassing allergy attack at S/teve's house the night prior, having figured out S/teve may actually have the same interests, E/ddie starts up on his plan to drive S/teve crazy with his allergies - hopefully to the point of drawing a confession out of him. What could possibly go wrong?

(Carrying on directly from this fic, but you don't need to re-read it!)

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, pre-relationship then getting together, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, hay fever sneezes, sneezing from manual inducing, sneezing from fragrance, sneezing from direct exposure to flowers, inducing someone else, spray, handkerchiefs, lots of making out lol, masturbation, teasing, exhibitionism/voyeurism, hand jobs, frotting, dirty talk, teasing, sneezing on each other

CW: Internalised homophobia, threats of physical violence, shame towards the fetish, E/ddie really pushes S/teve's boundaries and they get ANGSTY, did I mention angst, miscommunication and jealousy, S/teve is a messy airhead who sneezes all over items in public and does not clean it up, they have a brief bad time before a good one

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“…-ddie. Hey, Eddie.”

“..mmmn?”

Eddie felt the welcome cocoon of sleep receding at the sensation of a finger jabbing persistently into his ribs. He snorted unhappily, attempting to roll away from the unwelcome prods but merely earning himself an even harder prod between his shoulder blades. Willing himself to pass back out wasn’t working. He grumbled and peered blearily over his shoulder through a mess of curls. Max’s placid face hovered over him. He blinked dumbly up at her, momentarily unaware of what Mayfield was doing in his bedroom. Then he heard a giggle - another girl. His eyes swivelled to El, lingering behind Max, a cheeky grin on her face as she took in the sight of his hazy confusion.

“Wha..?”

“Steve told us to wake you up and ask you what you wanted for breakfast.”

“…Steve?”

And just like that, he remembered everything. Hanging out at Steve’s place. His insane allergic reaction in front of everybody. And Steve…Steve had come to reassure him in the bathroom. And he’d –

“Well, fuck.” Eddie blurted out and snorted a little in amusement, making the two girls jump.

Steve had fucking liked that shit. He was convinced of it. God. He closed his eyes and grinned, a sudden, childish giddiness overwhelming him.

“Um…Okay…?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped open. The girls. Right.

“Shit, yeah – sorry, Red. I’m fine with whatever – cereal, toast, you know – whatever he’s offering.”

He shifted and pulled himself into an upright sitting position, about to swing his legs over the side of – Steve’s? Definitely Steve’s – bed, when he suddenly realised that he was very naked, aside from his boxers. Max took one glance at the bare torso he struggled to shield with two scrambling palms and seemed to pick up on his dilemma – super smart kid – before pulling El by the wrist towards the door.

“Cereal. Toast. Got it.” She droned, not bothering to look back. El pulled the door shut behind them, and Eddie heard the pair of them giggle as they made their way downstairs.

Now that he was alone, he sighed heavily and took the time to glance around. Yep, it was Steve’s room, all right. As neat and empty as his own was chaotic. He remembered that last night he’d taken more allergy meds and all but passed out in the living room while the movie viewing had commenced. It kind of sucked that he’d been unconscious for it, but it beat sneezing his head off uncontrollably for a captive audience any more than he already had. He blushed a little, still embarrassed by the whole thing despite the litany of reassurances and concern everyone had directed his way the second he reemerged from his shameful little sanctuary in the bathroom. He’d made a scene, passed out and – maybe, somehow, woken up long enough to get to Steve’s room and strip down before climbing into his bed? He blinked. Total blackout.

He noticed an inflatable mattress with a discarded blanket sprawled across it lying on the floor next to the bed. Presumably, Steve had slept there. Eddie felt both relieved and disappointed – sharing a bed with Steve was pure fantasy fodder, but to be so drugged up he couldn’t remember it would have been weird and more than a little depressing. Especially now that he knew Steve’s little secret. Their little secret. He smirked, couldn’t help it, almost vibrating with excitement at what he knew he had to do. Operation: tease Steve with his allergies until something fucking gives.

It was a ridiculous and somewhat risky plan – or so he would have thought, if he hadn’t seen in Steve a mirror image of his own fetishistic arousal, clear as day. He felt emboldened, convinced that this was the perfect little way to segue into a relationship of some kind with the former jock. His allergies were as good an ice-breaker as any. Speaking of…

Eddie’s nostrils began to flare, that oh-so familiar buzzing irritation creeping its way through his sinuses. It wasn’t nearly as bad as yesterday when he’d effectively sneezed himself awake, thank god – maybe that double dose of meds he’d taken had a lingering effect? Either way, he was going to have to sneeze, a regular part of his morning routine this time of year. He allowed himself to settle back against the headboard, steeling himself as his breath hitched up and up, eyes scrunching closed as the tingling itch morphed into a sharper, more definitive tickle. It may not have been as demanding as the morning prior, but it was teasing, leaving him trapped in what felt like a never-ending buildup. He found himself waving a hand in front of his face, eyelashes damp with allergic tears. He hoped the desperate gesture would hasten the tickle along – if not, it felt relieving to have something to do whilst otherwise incapacitated.

Finally, after a couple of embarrassingly dramatic false starts that both amused and aroused him as they echoed out in the (thankfully) empty room, the tickle reached its apex. His shoulders shook with three rapid hitches of breath, mouth gaping open and pink tongue cupping itself against his bottom teeth. At last he was curling forward with an intensely relieving fit.

"HehH'ENGxt'TSchieww!! IhH'TSHieww!! ESSHieww! Huh'ISSSHhuu!! Eh'Ngxtt'ieww!!"

He let them out unhindered, not wanting to sneeze directly into the fabric of the bed sheets, but for lack of any means to cover other than his hands, he decided he would rather save himself the mess. He sneezed openly and down towards his lap, sending a delicate aerosol of spray across Steve’s bedding. As he shook with each eruption, his mind couldn’t help but conjure up the image of Steve stood in the doorway of his bedroom, watching him as he lost control, enjoying the way he was utterly helpless to the tickle in his itchy, pink nose.

"Hh-HH-!! Hah'ESHHhieww!! AESH'uuu!! Hh'IGSHH'uu!! ETCHH'iewww!! Hah!! HahH'DZZtt'Shieww!!

He was hard now, fantasies even more potent than usual. This revelation about Steve, that it was something in the realm of reality that he could – no, would – enjoy seeing him like this – it all but destroyed any means of control he had over his wandering thoughts. Through the rest of his fit he pictured the look of hunger he’d seen in Steve’s eyes the night prior – imagined Steve joining him on the bed, whispering blessings and assurances as he sneezed and dripped all over the two of them. He imagined Steve crawling into bed with him, under the sheets he had thoroughly sprayed with the result of his allergies. He even entertained the indulgent thought of Steve experiencing an unexpected (but welcome) allergic reaction of his own, returning the favour as they rutted against each other.

"hh-!! OHh, fuck! HAH!! DZZTTt'shiiewww!! IGSHH'Uuuu!! hHDT’TISShhuuu!! hh-!! HAHGK'TSHHhieww!!"

His hand was on his cock, stroking and massaging in rhythm with each explosion that racked his slender frame. He shouldn’t be doing this, not while there were kids downstairs - jerking off to his own sneezes and thoughts of Steve in Steve’s bed whilst the man in question was busy making breakfast for him. Luckily, his fit was beginning to taper off, giving him enough reprieve to stand on shaky legs and manoeuvre himself over the air mattress and into Steve’s en-suite. He sneezed as he closed the door behind him, sneezed as he pulled his cock through the slit of his boxers, and sneezed as he jerked himself off into the porcelain basin of Steve’s immaculate sink.

~~~~~

Eddie stood in front of the mirror, scrunching his curls in his palms and up towards his scalp, tutting with dissatisfaction at his sub-par reflection. His unruly hair refused to cooperate, flattened in some places from sleeping awkwardly and miserably tangled in others. After he’d cum in several long streaks into the basin of the sink, moaning and steadying himself against the countertop with a shaky grip, his mind had been cleared enough to pull himself together.

Upon re-entering Steve’s room, he noticed his jeans and t-shirt, neatly folded and placed on Steve’s desk chair, as well as a little box of antihistamines and a glass of water on the bedside table. He’d dressed quickly and eagerly gulped down the water and meds, doing as best he could to untangle his mane (to little avail). He’d also taken the opportunity to clear out any residual tickles from his itchy nose into a handful of blissfully soft tissues; he was sensitive enough that just a few swipes of the delicate material against the arches of his nostrils pulled several shuddering sneezes out of him. Blowing his nose into them felt great, too. He picked up the box and turned it round in his hands, the brand name unrecognisable to him. He thought for a moment he should ask Steve where the fuck he was finding tissues like these, because it certainly wasn’t any local store he’d been privy to. It was ridiculous that the thought of doing so, discussing tissues with Steve, threatened to make him hard again. Maybe he needed a cold shower. Or a regular warm one, where he could…work through these thoughts, cock in hand.

The sound of raucous laughter from downstairs – Dustin, and then El – had him shaking his head and laughing in near-disbelief at his own uncontrollably dirty ruminations. Holy fuck, he had to pull himself together. He did just that, making his way downstairs at last, heart beating just a little bit faster at the thought of seeing Steve.

~~~~~

Gingerly walking into the kitchen, Eddie was greeted with several enthusiastic shouts from both Dustin and Robin, the former sitting at the kitchen table with El and Max, whilst Robin sat haphazardly on the kitchen counter next to the stove at which Steve was cooking some (heavenly smelling) eggs. Scrambled, by the looks of it. Eddie felt his stomach give a little growl. He was altogether starving. He brought his gaze up from the pan and locked eyes with Steve; for a split second, it felt to Eddie like they were frozen in time, something palpable and electric in the air. The hair-raising sensation vanished as quickly as it had come on, however, Steve nodding to him with a tender (if slightly nervous looking) smile and turning his attention back to the food. Eddie blinked. A little less…enthusiastic than he had hoped. Deciding not to dwell on the matter, he pulled up a chair next to Dustin, who promptly patted him on the arm.

“You okay, man?” He asked, looking up at Eddie with a look so patronisingly pitying that he barked a laugh back at him almost immediately. Dustin promptly pulled back his hand and stared at Max and El in precocious disbelief, gesturing back towards Eddie.

“Wow, you try to be there for a guy, and he laughs in your face!” the teen started dramatically, throwing his arms up. He’d clearly expected a more clandestine and grateful response from the metalhead. It was cute – he was as an obnoxious, chatty little shit, and Eddie was incredibly fond of him.

“Yeah, Dustin, ‘m’fine. I’m just busting your chops, okay?” He said as he ruffled Dustin’s hair, pulling him into a one armed hug. After a brief scuffle and a relatively painless noogie delivered via Eddie’s (ringless…mostly) right hand, the older man let go and slapped him reassuringly on the back a couple of times.

“Why do boys do – that?” El asked Max, having observed the entire affair in shocked silence.

“What – physically assault each other? It’s just how boys express love. Like men.” Max offered, rolling her eyes in a way that made El giggle in appreciation. They were definitely a cute little pair of trouble-makers, Eddie had to admit. He could take the jab. Boys were pretty dumb – as one (or, he guessed, an ex-boy – he was all man now, baby) he could definitely vouch for that. He just grinned at them as Dustin engaged Max in a squabble. It was endearing enough that he let himself get lost in listening to them bicker; the pair of them could sure go toe to toe with brutal sarcasm. It was so entertaining that he didn’t notice Steve approaching him until he felt a gentle touch on his arm.

“Hey, man.” Steve started once Eddie turned to look up at him. He stood a little awkwardly – tentatively resting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder like the older man was a delicate structure, a house of cards ready to go down with even the slightest disturbance. It irked Eddie. He wanted to cut through all the awkwardness and jump straight to the part where they had each other’s cocks in hand. Or at least each other’s tongues in their mouths.

Remember the children, Munson. It wouldn’t do to try anything quite so forward right now. Robin was watching the placement of Steve’s hand on his shoulder from her perch on the kitchen counter. And Buckley, too. Steve’s…well, definitely not his girlfriend, that much was clear. He didn’t want to overthink whatever the fuck they had going on – it didn’t seem romantic, least of all because they’d emphatically reinforced the fact with the whole ‘platonic with a capital P’ shtick. Either way, it would probably be best to work his way up to things gradually and without company.

“Hey, yourself.” He smiled his most winning smile up at Steve and was delighted to receive a brilliantly open smile in return. Whatever Steve had been worried about, it seemed to dissipate with just that small gesture.

“How are you feeling? Got breakfast for you, if you’re hungry.” Steve gestured to the stove. Robin contributed by throwing jazz hands in the general direction of the food and smiling warmly at him.

“I’m good. I could sure eat.”

Steve nodded, then hesitated for a moment. His eyes darted over Eddie’s face, making eye contact for a moment then drifting away again. Eddie cocked his head to the side a little but didn’t look away. It was clear Steve had something else he wanted to say, but it was like he was having trouble finding the words. He spoke a moment later, and Eddie listened in rapt concentration – the anxious energy emanating from Steve was doing nothing to calm his own overactive nervous system.

“I left some…meds, on the dresser for you. Did you…?”

Steve faltered, the question dying in his throat. If Eddie had previously been 99% sure Steve was an enthusiast of the same sexual persuasion, he was now 99.9%. He had to fight, actually dig his nails into his palm and bite on the inside of his cheek, to stop from grinning what he was sure would be an entirely predatory and immensely unnerving smile of smug satisfaction.

“Yeah, thanks man. Took some not too long ago.” He managed, voice stable and welcoming. He was so giddy he wanted to cackle.

“That’s – that’s good.” Steve managed. Eddie bit down harder. “Didn’t want you to suffer.”

Eddie did smile then. He absolutely wanted me to suffer, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. Eddie had to imagine that yes, whilst Steve was a great guy, despite previous assholery, the antihistamines were likely more than a kind gesture. Eddie imagined how he would feel in Steve’s shoes. If Steve was in his trailer, sneezing up a goddamn storm whilst he had company present, the majority of which was comprised of children? Yeah, he’d probably want to put a damper on that too. It was strategic. He could fuck with that.

“Yeah, they’re a real lifesaver. I mean, recently, they hardly make a difference, but still.”

His heart was pounding in his chest. This was a lot harder than he imagined it would be, if only because in trying to provoke a reaction out of Steve, he was turning himself on to no end. But he had to keep pushing. He was a man possessed.

“These days I basically just sneeze myself awake. And I just have to wait it out. Sometimes it takes like, what, fifteen minutes? It’s like my nose saved all my sneezes overnight and the second I’m conscious they just fucking overwhelm me, man.”

Steve was reacting so obviously that Eddie wondered if he wanted to be exposed. Knowing that that wasn’t the case, and that Steve simply couldn’t help practically swooning whilst he discussed his allergic struggles with him was giving him butterflies. He was torturing them both, but it was such sweet torture. Steve’s eyes were darting around, focusing anywhere other than Eddie’s face – the older man waited patiently for his response, but Robin beat him to it.

“God, that sounds like such a drag. I’m so glad I don’t have allergies. God – not to like, brag and rub it in or anything, sorry - !”

Buckley was a sweetheart. As much as Eddie wished she hadn’t interrupted and given Steve an out – said jock was now plating up a mountain of food for him, back turned – he could work with this.

“All good, Birdie. Better me than you. I’ve got fucking years of experience under my belt.”

“Still, that fucking sucks that you, like – sneeze yourself awake? I’ve never sneezed that much in my life. Except for one time Rosie Carver was wearing that insanely strong perfume – I’m talking bonkers amount of artificial lavender – to band practice, and it was awful.”

Eddie hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt, having opened the Pandora’s box that was Robin’s unmatched ability to ramble on and on. The upside to this turn of events, however, was that Steve looked almost pained with embarrassment as he placed Eddie’s plate in front of him.

“Thanks, Harrington.” He smiled and winked up at Steve, who flashed him a goofy little smile that looked more like a grimace as he continued to visibly cringe.

Steve pulled up the chair next to him and fidgeted awkwardly with the tablecloth as Eddie started to eat. He only seemed to relax a little when Max and Dustin pulled both him and Robin into their intense debate on what qualified as a man hug vs a hug from a man.

Everyone seemed appropriately distracted enough that Eddie, feeling absolutely giddy about what he was about to do, reached for the pepper shaker and started shaking it over his food as subtly as he could manage. Confident that nobody was watching, he shook a little pile of the tickly black seasoning into his hand and inhaled it quietly, rounding off the motion with a gentle rub to his nostrils that he hoped looked natural.

It burned almost instantly. He fought off a few little coughs and reached across the table for a napkin. Now Steve was watching him in that way that people do when they’re trying really hard to look like they aren’t. Eddie knew the feeling exactly, had been in this position more times than he could count. He would have smiled had the tickle not overwhelmed him in seconds, barely giving him any warning before he was sneezing desperately into the napkin.

"Hht'Tchiew! 'TSshieww!! hH'Ngxtt!! 'NGXT'TSChiew!! Oh my god, bless me.”

He couldn’t believe what he had just done. He’d been an impulsive, thrill-seeking bastard for most of his life, but this? It was insane. It was intoxicating. He blushed behind the covering of the tissue paper, working his snuffling, damp nostrils round in an attempt to assuage the itch, and thankfully it worked. He thanked Robin and the kids as they offered a round of blessings before reengaging with the extremely heated debate that had El giggling beside them. Noticing the absence of a blessing from his left – the only one he’d been seeking - Eddie’s eyes tentatively swivelled in Steve’s direction.

Steve was sat ramrod straight up in his seat, looking for all the world like he’d been stupefied. Eddie supposed he had, and was grateful for the napkin to hide his toothy grin of excitement behind, though he was sure his eyes, scrunched up in amusement, gave him away all the same. He sniffled, a wet, obtrusive sound, and this seemed to be the cue Steve’s brain needed to remind him to act like a human being again. He slumped back down into his seat, blushing fiercely and chewing at the lose skin beside his thumb nail. Eddie had to fight desperately for his own gentle blush to recede as Steve peered up at him from behind long, almost bovine eyelashes and uttered the softest, shyest little “Bless you” he had ever heard.

He lowered the napkin with shaking hands, muttering his own tiny “Thank you” in response and shovelling down the rest of his meal, tasting nothing and miles away in his mind. That had been…god, that had been so intimate. If they’d been alone, he would have kissed Steve immediately – he knew that for a fact. There was no fucking way he was misreading the desire that had saturated that interaction. He felt heavy and drugged whilst simultaneously wired enough to run a marathon. He had to breach this topic, he just didn’t know when, or how. So he would continue to be a tease until either he or Steve exploded out of sheer repressed lustiness.  

What a fucking wonderful mess he’d gotten himself into.

~~~~~

“You sure you’re good to drive?”

“Yeah, man, I’m great.”

Eddie smiled reassuringly at Steve as the younger man lingered in the open doorway. Max was already halfway to Eddie’s van, having said her goodbyes and determined to get back to her room for some peace and quiet. Steve would be delivering the other kids to their respective parents, then he and Robin would do whatever it was they did, joined at the hip as usual. Eddie was only a tiny bit jealous, but he honestly wouldn’t mind some peace and quiet himself - if only so that he could rub his own dick raw thinking about the past 24 hours.

“…Okay.”

Steve sounded entirely unconvinced, and terrible at hiding it.

“I’m not going to crash, Steve.” He smiled wickedly. “I’m an expert at driving whilst sneezing my ever-loving brains out. I could win awards for it.”

Steve shifted his weight from one leg to another, eyes darting to anywhere but Eddie’s face as he offered a stilted little laugh. Eddie hoped he was fidgeting to offset the pressure of his jean’s seams on an inopportune erection. He hoped his words teased just right.

“Sure, man, whatever you say.”

Steve managed to smile at him then. It was Eddie’s cue to leave before he got sucked back into those pretty eyes all over again and lost the ability to form complete sentences.

“Well. See you soon, big boy.”

He turned around, raising a hand in goodbye. He smiled as a chorus of ‘Bye, Eddie!’ rang out from inside the house, shouting back a louder ‘farewell’ in response. Steve watched him from the doorway, and Eddie realised he was planning to wait to go inside until after he’d left. He turned around one last time, halfway into the driver’s seat and yelled:

“If my van ends up wrapped round some tree somewhere, you get my guitar, man!”

“Shut up and go home!” Steve shouted back, looking embarrassed and pleased all at once.

Eddie grinned and stuck out his tongue, ignoring Max’s groan of disgust as he settled into the driver’s seat.

~~~~~

Eddie pulled up to his trailer – or swerved up to it, depending on who you asked. Max was one of the most tolerable passengers he had ever had the pleasure of escorting, saying nothing of his questionable steering. He drove like he did almost everything else – impatiently, erratically and far too fucking fast.

Having known Max a mere matter of months, he’d quickly begun to think of her as a little sister of sorts. She hated the trailer park, and he didn’t much blame her. He felt it was his responsibility to help her out as much as he could - even if that just meant letting her into his trailer when her mom was passed out drunk, sitting next to her on the sofa watching some shitty horror movie and cracking stupid jokes in the face of her silence. She didn’t have to say anything, she just had to know that he was there if she needed him. When she’d asked him a couple of weeks ago if he would teach her some guitar basics, he had jumped at the chance. She didn’t have one of her own yet, so he sat with his acoustic whilst she balanced his flashy Warlock on her lap and awkwardly worked her way through each chord.

The metal they had been blasting came to an abrupt stop when he killed the engine. He jumped out and circled the van to open her door for her, reaching out to take her by the hand.

“Home at last, m’lady.”

She ignored his waiting hand, casting him a trademark withering stare with those huge blue eyes and hopped down from the van. He chuckled and closed the door behind her.

“You’re extra gross today.” She offered, looking at him with what Eddie gathered was a healthy dose of suspicion.

He clasped a hand to his heart, playing up the dramatics and gasping in faux distress.

“You wound me, Mayfield!”

She rolled her eyes at him, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. He laughed gregariously, knowing the raucous nature of it would embarrass her. She shoved him softly in response, then grabbed his arm when he started to genuinely keel over. Which only made him laugh harder.

“You’re insane.”

“But you like me anyway.”

“Whatever.” She turned and started to walk over to her trailer. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome.”

He was halfway up the front steps of his trailer when he noticed her lingering.

“You good, Red?”

“Yeah. Just wondering if later you could maybe show me some more chords? I want to practice.”

He beamed at her, twirling his door keys round an extended index finger.

“Sure, I can do that. What time?”

“Depends on you.” She said. “Depends on if you’re going to be on the phone with Steve all night. Again.”

His brief moment of hesitation – and the resultant pause that had his keys spinning to the ground at maximum velocity – made her blue eyes twinkle. Damn smart kid. He scrambled for the keys, bouncing back and hoping she would brush off his temporary malfunction even as he knew without a doubt she had him all figured out. She didn’t look mean, though – she just looked smug.

“I believe,” he started as he turned the keys in the lock, “Harrington is otherwise occupied this fine evening. Unlike me. I’ll see you at 7, maybe?”

“Sure. 7 works.”

And with that, she was turning heel and pacing away. Eddie tried not to have a minor heart attack as he closed the trailer door behind him.

So what if Max had seen right through him, he thought as he dropped his backpack unceremoniously in the living room. She wasn’t going to say anything – she wasn’t a blabbermouth like any of the boys. She might – she might say something to El, though. He cringed at the thought of it. Shit. Maybe he would have to lay low on the overt flirting unless he was completely alone with Steve. He’d really fucking pushed it today, and now Max knew about his stupid, dumb feelings for Steve. Who else knew? Did Steve know? He wanted him to know. But not because the kids or whoever else sniffed it out first.

He collapsed face down on his bed and exhaled into his pillowcase. Whether it was Pavlovian conditioning or otherwise, his erection was back in an instant. He pushed aside the lingering anxiety, the overthinking, and rolled onto his back, shimmying his jeans down his hips.

The first squeeze around his cock felt incredible, and he bucked up into his own teasing grasp. This wouldn’t take long. His entire body felt like a live wire. He lost himself in the hedonistic joy of fucking into his own fist, reaching up with one hand to play with his nipples. He groaned, imagining Steve was right there with him – he was the one touching him with his big, strong hands, he was the one teasing him. His nose tingled, a sure sign that the antihistamines were already starting to wear off. Just that thought, just the thought of sneezing, of Steve watching him, Steve sneezing too –

Eddie bit his lip hard, trying and failing not to whimper as he orgasmed to thoughts of Steve for the second time that morning, knowing he was just getting started.

~~~~~

Max was only half-right about his phone calls to Steve. They were never longer than a few hours – and that had only happened a couple of times. Thirty minutes seemed to be their average. He spent way longer on the phone with Gareth, at any rate, and he wasn’t trying to get into his pants, fuck no. Guy friends could talk on the phone daily without it necessarily meaning anything. The fact that he was irrepressibly attracted to Steve and knew that Steve wanted him back – at least, as far as his allergies were concerned – was neither here nor there.

Wayne said nothing as Eddie stretched the phone cord into his bedroom and closed his door just so. There were many things to love about Wayne, but his leaving Eddie to his own business was something he was forever grateful for – even if he was much warier about doing so these days, understandably so.

They were 20 minutes into an amicable conversation and Eddie had already sneezed four times, relishing in the blessings Steve had offered. Steve was a lot more confident over the phone – probably due to the fact that his ability to disguise his body language fucking sucked, and this way he had the advantage of being unseen. It was sweet that he was possibly thinking just because Eddie couldn’t see him, he wasn’t able to picture in perfect clarity the way Steve would be blushing and squirming all the same.

“So yeah, Robin wanted to drive a little out of town – there’s this huge homeware depot out in the middle of fucking nowhere with all kinds of crap. It’s fun. You should come with us.”

Eddie wanted to, knew he wouldn’t turn the invitation down. But damn, what was the fucking deal with those two? It was so confusing. He was almost 95% sure they weren’t together, but they were like Velcro. Eddie treasured these phone calls because it was one of the few times he could talk to Steve one on one – and even then, Robin would sometimes be lounging around at his house, omnipresent in the background of their conversations.

He was jealous, plain and simple. He wanted to lounge around in Steve’s huge house and spend every waking moment with him, following him round like a little puppy dog. It sucked to be jealous of Robin – she was great, a total joy, and it wasn’t like she was the sole instigator of her and Steve’s mutual clinginess. Sometimes it felt to Eddie like they almost operated as emotional service animals to one another.

He scrunched his eyes shut, hard. Idiot. They’re just the best of friends.

“Sure, I’m down. I was in the market for some new doilies anyway.”

Steve laughed, and Eddie resisted the urge to kick his feet and twirl his hair round his finger.

“They have way more than that, dude. I’m talking bathmats, spice racks, tiny little porcelain dogs – and that’s just a preview.”

“Ooh, porcelain dogs. Midwestern Grandma chic.”

“Yeah, thought you might like the little knick-knacks.”

Eddie could hear Steve’s fond smile over the phone, and this time couldn’t help it as his hand made its way up to his curls and – yep, there he went. Spinning the locks round his finger like a fucking cheerleader or some shit.

They made solid plans and said their goodbyes. Eddie hung the phone back in its cradle and cast a weary glance at Wayne. Still awake. He would have to be quiet when he blew his post-phone-call load.

~~~~~

Steve had picked Eddie up that morning with Robin already riding shotgun. She offered to get in the back the moment she saw Eddie, which was concerning. His disappointment at the seating arrangement (which he knew had had no right in feeling, considering he was technically the third wheel on this little outing that was literally Robin’s idea in the first place) must have been plain on his face. He perhaps overdid it when he flung himself in the back before she had a chance to do so herself, the cheesy double thumbs up he flashed them as they peered at him in all his pell-mell glory looking awkward and stilted even to him. It was mercifully brushed over, and he cringed at himself for only a couple of seconds before Steve was engaging him in some stupid conversation about what porcelain animals they should buy.

The store – or rather, the industrial-sized warehouse operating as a store – was an impressive sight to behold out in the middle of nowhere. Almost everything was out in the middle of nowhere in rural Indiana, but the sheer size of the outlet was unique. Robin was practically vibrating with excitement as she got out of Steve’s car.

Eddie was in good spirits himself. He’d been sneezing a lot that morning, but not enough to make him truly miserable. His medication seemed to have calmed the reaction a little, but not entirely. Not enough to prevent his nostrils from tingling and flaring at that first hit of pollen-laden forest air. He sniffled, inviting the sensation to crest into a small, flurried little fit of sneezes he caught in his bandana.

"Hh'Ngxtt! NGXtt! ngxt'tshu! Hh! TShh-Dd'TZshh-TZzsch'iew!! Ahh…"

Those had felt so nice to indulge in, like a salve to soothe the itch. He scrubbed at his nostrils through the fabric, glancing up in time to see Steve glancing away, caught in the act of staring – just as Eddie had hoped. Robin, having run ahead several paces, didn’t seem to notice, and called out to them to hurry up. Steve practically sprinted after her, and Eddie swallowed the brief disappointment at the absence of a blessing, or any acknowledgement from the object of his desire. Saved by the fucking bell, he figured. It was no problem. He didn’t plan on giving up Operation: Drive Steve Crazy just yet. He had gumption and hard-assery on his side. He snuffled one last time into the bandana before pocketing it and catching up with them at revolving door entrance.

~~~~~

If the warehouse looked big from the outside, it was even bigger inside – and packed, relatively speaking. Mostly by middle-aged women, with some reluctant husbands scattered about here or there. There were some younger people too – a few oddball looking teens laughing at some of the tackier slogans adorning magnets and placards, and a couple of pretty college girls fussing over fuzzy cushions.

“Wow, Birdie. Where the fuck do you even start?” Eddie whistled, tipping his head back to peer up at the looming ceiling.

“Huh. I actually have no clue. This place is a monster, right?” She grinned at the pair of them.

“Seriously, Robs, no game plan?” Steve said, stood behind the shopping cart Robin had assigned to him. He had lost rock paper scissors and was only a little bitter about it.

“You make this sound like an army operation.” She rolled her eyes at them, and rolled them again when they both uttered, in perfect synchronisation, “Isn’t it?”

“I’m gonna do a quick – well, relatively quick – scan of the premises, then you can follow me with the cart. Sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Brave the terrain for us first.” Eddie smiled at her, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being left alone with Steve.

“See you in three hours!” Steve called sarcastically after her, and she stuck out her tongue and flipped the bird in response.

“Crazy geek.” Steve muttered, smiling. He shrugged his shoulders at Eddie. “Well – shall we secure the immediate area?”

“Sir, yes sir.” Eddie clicked his heels together and saluted, feeling like a total dork and delighting in the way it made Steve grin.

Another round of laughter pulled their attention over to the teens, who were at last walking away from the shelves of feel-good signage. Eddie tipped his head towards the display.

“Could start over there, see if there’s anything worth hanging over Wayne’s front door.”

Steve nodded, and the pair of them made their way over.

~~~~~

The signs were as predictably awful as either of them had expected; it was easy to understand why the teens had taken such amusement in them. Some were relatively innocuous, like ‘If you were home, you’d be here’ – others much more heinous, like ‘I must get up – my coffee needs me’ (Steve’s personal favourite) and simply ‘Fart Zone’ (Eddie’s personal favourite). Laughing with Steve over dumb shit was surely becoming one of Eddie’s favourite things to do, and if these goofy signs facilitated that, he was happy to read out loud every single one of them.

The novelty soon ran its course and prompted by a disapproving huff from a nearby older lady, the pair of them giggled like kids and retreated. Eddie dragged Steve away by the elbow, as encumbered with the empty cart as the younger man was.

“Oh man, Robin needs to see that shit. She’d be on the floor right now.” Steve laughed.

Eddie smiled, burying the mounting wave of jealousy like swallowing the most bitter of pills. They’re best friends, he reminded himself. Of course he wants her to see this shit too.

They wandered aimlessly for a little while, sticking to the very front of the store so that Robin would be able to find them. There wasn’t much more to engage with – Eddie and Steve prodded at the cushions they’d seen the girls take interest in, giving up quickly as they failed to provide any real source of amusement.

As they turned to the final unexplored aisle in the vicinity, Eddie’s nose wrinkled at a sudden, overwhelming wave of artificial scents. He stopped and peered down at the rows and rows of shelves, all stacked full of aromatic candles.

Oh fuck. His lips curled into a smile he hoped didn’t make him look like a conniving supervillain. This was the perfect opportunity to fuck with Steve, just the two of him. They hadn’t even proceeded down the aisle and his nostrils already tickled terribly. He reached up to rub them for a moment, squinting his eyes shut.

“…You okay?” Steve asked, stopping a couple of paces in front of him once he realised Eddie had paused. His eyes kept darting from Eddie’s eyes, to his flaring nostrils, right back up to his eyes again. So nervous, so obviously transparent.

“I’m good, yeah.” Eddie sniffled, walking forward. “Never seen so many fucking candles in my life. They stink.”

“Hmm.” Steve swallowed. Eddie watched his Adam’s apple bob. “You sure you want to brave it? With your…hay fever, and all?”

Oh, that had been so hard for him to say, but he’d wanted so very much to come across as a normal human being and not somebody who popped a boner every time Eddie’s nostrils did so much as twitch. Eddie almost felt bad for the sweet torture he was about to put him through.

“Luckily for me, Harrington – candles, unlike plants, don’t tend to release seasonal fuck-dust into the atmosphere.” He squeezed Steve’s arm briefly, encouraging him to keep walking beside him.

“That’s not – okay.”

Steve was flustered, almost to the point of blushing. 'Almost' wasn’t good enough. Eddie had to ramp things up.

His eyes scanned the shelves for the perfect candle to sniff, though any would probably do. It was crazy how much the entire area reeked of them, the hundreds of different scents accumulating into a maddening cloud of itchiness that almost set his eyes watering.

At last, he located a scent he knew would probably set him off in an instant – ‘Spring Meadow.’ He reached for it, heart lurching in his chest. The candle was heavy, sealed in a cylindrical glass jar. Luckily for him, it had no plastic wrapping he needed to rip through to lift the lid and get a proper noseful of the stuff. Even a foot away from his face with the lid still on, the scent was overwhelming.

“Does Birdie like candles?” He asked Steve, rotating his wrist to get a proper look at the object in question – or to feign interest in it, to make what he was about to do look a little less insane.

“Uh, sure? I think her parents have a few round the house, but I’ve never seen them lit. The ones in Robin’s room aren’t scented…”

He was watching the candle intently, like it was a bomb about to detonate. Eddie supposed that was fair enough – he’d be sweating too, at the prospect of Steve sneezing his head off, willingly, right there in front of him. The detonation Steve ought to be worrying about was him, really.

“Huh. Maybe we can test some out for her?” He peered at Steve from under his eyelashes. The younger man’s eyes did not leave the candle, knuckles almost white as they gripped the handlebars of the shopping cart. “There’re so many different scents here – might help to narrow it down for her, yeah?”

Steve said nothing. He seemed stupefied. Eddie almost felt bad, again – but he felt compelled to continue, like he was operating on a motor. He desperately wanted to sneeze, and he wanted Steve to watch every second of it. He didn’t bother waiting for any response Steve could eventually muster, twisting the glass lid free and lifting the candle to his face. It only took one tentative little sniff and he was undone, nostrils flaring to capacity. He sneezed too quickly to even draw a definitive gasp to fuel the reaction, seizing with the effort.

“HAhgK'TISHHH!! TIShhh-TSSCh-TSHH-TSH'Uu!!”

Each sneeze tore its way through him with no small amount of violence. The eponymous ‘Spring Meadow’ sure fucking smelled the part – it was like sticking his face into a patch of wildflowers and huffing them, hard. The ever-looming presence of his hay fever and the underlying sensitivity it caused seemed not to care that the fragrance was artificial – it tickled as much as any real flower ever could, maybe even more so out of sheer concentration of scent.

Hands occupied by both the candle and the lid, he merely sneezed right out in front of him – and towards Steve. He wanted him to take in every detail – and from experience, and the sensation of moisture on his own lips, that would include a healthy dose of spray with each expulsion. His eyes were screwed shut, it tickled so terribly – he couldn’t open them at all, the sneezes rapid enough he could only surrender to them as they hunched him forward, shoulders jumping and curls bouncing.

"Hahdt'DZZCHhh-DDT'shh-TZShhiew-TSschtt!!....hHAHH'IGXKSH'SHiiewww!!! Oh m’by god…"

He took the opportunity of the pause before that final sneeze to pop the lid back into place, shaking and almost dropping the candle as he suddenly felt unsteady on his feet. What a fucking rush that had been. His tongue flicked out to lick his damp lips. Shivering slightly in post-sneeze pleasure, he placed the candle back on the shelf before allowing himself to look over at Steve.

It was everything he had hoped for – Steve was a total, lust-stricken mess. The eyes he was flashing at Eddie were bedroom eyes, plain and simple. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted as he breathed softly but frantically, like he was winding down from a morning run. The cart was an immovable object in front of him, blocking his crotch from Eddie’s view, but from the awkwardly hunched stance he had adopted and overall wild-eyed appearance, a boner was practically guaranteed.

It was so intoxicating, looking at Steve like this, that Eddie forgot for a moment he wasn’t supposed to lose his composure alongside him. His own pants were impossibly tight, and it took all the restraint he could muster to not push Steve down on the hard, concrete floor and dry hump them both to nirvana.

“Ha…not such a great idea after all. ‘Scuse me.” He offered lamely, reaching for his bandana with a shaky hand. This had been a stupid idea – his brain was mush and he felt himself trembling in equal parts embarrassment and arousal, unable to maintain control of his own devious operation.

“Fuck, man…bless you.” Steve offered after a beat. He looked utterly mortified as his voice broke on the blessing, but it also seemed to galvanise him. He cleared his throat and stood a little taller.

“Bless you.” He offered again, and this time he didn’t so much as stutter. Eddie’s eyelashes fluttered, and despite his best efforts, he started to blush behind his bandana.

“Thank you.”

God, fuck, shit. This was so hot. He wanted Steve so badly. He wasn’t misreading things right now – couldn’t be. The way Steve was looking at him…he knew he never looked at Robin like that. This was significant, he was right on the money, and the longer he played this little game the more certain he became.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked softly as he blew his nose into the handkerchief. “Do you need me to do anything?”

Yes, Eddie thought. I need you to get on your knees and suck my cock ‘til I come gallons. I need you to sneeze all over every square inch of my body, and then I need to do the exact same to you.

“No,” Eddie said, storing the bandana back in his pocket. “I just think I should get away from these candles.” He sniffled again, wrinkling his nose and flaring his nostrils. Steve watched every motion. “Tickles.”

Steve shuddered rather perceptibly, despite his obvious efforts to mask it. He was probably trying to play it cool, now, ‘fake it til you make it’ style. Eddie was fine with that – he’d teased them both to their limits. When he inevitably came later tonight thinking about this exchange, it was going to feel amazing.

“Yeah, we should – we should go.” Steve nodded, turning the cart round (still conveniently blocking his crotch) and Eddie was happy to follow.

They were almost out of the aisle when Steve paused, quite abruptly.

“Harrington?” Eddie asked, watching Steve stare down a nearby candle.

“How bad can they be?” He thought he heard Steve mutter, and, to Eddie’s dismay and pleasure both, the younger man reached out and grabbed the candle in his large, tan hand.

Eddie’s mouth was dry; his stomach flipped and he felt like he might pass out a little. He gripped the side of the cart for support, cock throbbing in his pants, as Steve removed the lid and lifted the candle to his perfectly pointed nose. His nostrils flared gently as he inhaled, experimentally, before taking another sniff almost strong enough to be audible. Eddie waited.

“Yeah, that’s not- hh’OhHH!! HUH!!”

Eddie blinked owlishly, felt his body burning up as if in fever. Was he actually asleep? Was this another of his increasingly regular wet dreams about Steve? It fucking felt like it, for sure – stood mere feet away from the jock as he willingly teased a mounting sneeze out of himself, expression crumpling and twisting in unmatched desperation. It seemed to be happening in slow motion; Steve’s head was tipping back, mouth falling open, eyebrows raising up, up, up. The picture-perfect image of a man on the precipice of a most impressive sneeze – or several.

Steve tensed, held in that pre-sneeze purgatory for what was surely no longer than a second but felt like an eternity to Eddie, and then he was sneezing so violently, so loudly that Eddie was sure Robin must have heard it from the other side of the warehouse.

“HUHHHH'RISHHHHHUUUUU!!! HAGKT'TISHHHHHH'IEWWWW!!!"

Eddie watched, dumb with arousal, as Steve sneezed directly onto the candle he held in his grasp. Whether he was unable to move away, or whether he simply didn’t care, Eddie wasn’t sure. Either way, it was about the hottest thing he had ever seen. Steve’s sneezes were huge, and ridiculously wet – each burst forth with a visible cloud of thick spray, baptising the candle as well as Steve’s hand and wrist, before dispersing into the air around his immediate vicinity in a glitter of aerosol. Eddie knew he was awake and not dreaming when the soft kiss of that spray dusted over his knuckles as they gripped at the cart. His cock throbbed, drooling precum into his underwear.

Steve’s head reeled back one last time with a gasp so intense it almost sounded painful – his chest puffed out with the effort. He didn’t move the candle – just went through the cycle all over again with one final, gargantuan sneeze that was impossibly wetter than either of its predecessors.

"AHHHH'YISSSSSSHHH'IEWWWW!!!"

The resultant spray hung around for several seconds before dispersing, glittering under the artificial lighting. Eddie’s eyes flickered down from Steve’s slackening, post-sneeze expression to the candle in his grip. It had been thoroughly sneezed on – there was really no other way to put it. It made Eddie feel even weaker to notice the droplets of moisture starting to slide down the side of the glass, actually dripping in the aftermath. He had never been so jealous of an inanimate object in all his life.

“Fuck,” Steve choked out, trembling a little and sounding a fraction as ruined as Eddie felt. “Well, that was – that was something.”

You can fucking say that again, you stupid, sexy bastard.

“Yeah. Um. Fuck, man. Bless you.” Eddie breathed out, trying to will at least a little blood into the rest of his body from where it had stubbornly pooled between his legs. “Are you okay?”

Steve looked down at the candle, then up at Eddie. Whatever he saw in Eddie’s eyes, he froze – they just looked at each other, silent for what felt like forever, before Eddie couldn’t take it anymore and glanced away. Fuck. He was just as transparent as Steve. When he looked back, whatever fire had been burning behind his eyes had vanished – almost as if nothing had transpired at all.

“I’m okay. Jesus. I think we should definitely give the candles a miss – spare Robin the disappointment.”

He was smiling softly, and it was enough to help Eddie ease up, just a little. He smiled back, said nothing as Steve replaced the lid and placed the worse-for-wear looking candle back on the shelf, spray and all.

“Yep. No complaints here. Let’s get back to the soap dishes?”

“Perfect.”

They walked awkwardly for a while. Eddie tried his best not to think about Steve’s own rock-hard cock as he willed his own back down. He was blessedly soft just in time for Robin to return fifteen minutes later.

~~~~~

Ever since his stunt with the candles, Eddie had been restless. Every time he spent time with Steve, or spoke to him on the phone, he felt the irrepressible urge to spill the fucking beans. To let him know that he knows, knows that Steve likes his sneezes, and he likes Steve and his sneezes, so maybe Steve might also like him and they should do something about it? But every time he built up the courage, felt like it was all gonna gush out of him in an endless stream of confession, it was like the words got caught in his throat and died there. No matter how much he willed it, he just didn’t seem to be bold enough. Which was hilarious, given the way he was actively teasing Steve with his tickly nose every chance he got.

They had agreed to have a movie night together, the evening before whilst on the phone. Eddie had been tickling his nose lazily with a clothing tag throughout, making sure to irritate himself just enough that the sneezing was near constant. Steve sounded breathless, and Eddie knew he had to be just as hard as him. They settled the plans quickly, then Eddie hung up and made himself cum three times before falling asleep, physically satiated but mentally tortured.

The day was a blur – another Saturday spent aimlessly playing guitar, smoking up and playing with his dick. He chain-smoked cigarettes inside his bedroom, which he regretted almost the second he started, both for the damage to his throat and the stink. He greedily drank half a carton of juice from the fridge to soothe his raspy throat, which he also regretted, feeling guilty about the prospect of eating and drinking Wayne out of house and home. Lots of overthinking and regrets as the day dragged on and on, hurtling him towards an evening alone with Steve.

There had been no marked change to his allergies – as active as ever, but manageable if he took his meds and stayed inside. So, naturally, he chose to forgo medication that day. He wanted to drive Steve crazy, even as the thought of doing so was driving him to the brink of insanity. The fantastical image of Steve, sporting an undisguisable erection as Eddie snuggled into the crook of his neck and purged the persistent tickle out all over his tan skin, and the thought of him blessing him and pinning him to the couch in return…Eddie jerked off again, feeling possessed, deranged. He shuddered as he came, then lit another cigarette and smoked nervously in bed. He was only pulled yelping out of his thoughts when cigarette ashes fell on his naked chest.

~~~~~

“Hey, man.”

Steve smiled welcomingly at him as he opened the door for Eddie. Eddie smiled back, bashfully, wondering if he would ever get over the feeling of nervous anticipation after he rang the doorbell and waited for that pretty face to greet him.

“I come bearing gifts.” Eddie lifted the bag in his hand, packed with chips and cookies and other tooth-rotting junk.

“Nice, nice.” Steve nodded approvingly. “You still want pizza?”

“Is the pope a catholic?” Eddie said, untying the laces of his sneakers and trying not to fall on his ass as a result of his impatient speediness.

“Cool – I’ll give ‘em a call in a sec, wanted to make sure before I did.”

For a moment, Eddie thought they were going to hug. He was about to initiate it when Steve reached out to take the bag of snacks from him with one hand, then held out the other for Eddie to bump. He did, a crooked smile cast Steve’s way that he hoped disguised his disappointment.

They made their way to the living room, where Steve let Eddie settle in and removed the snacks from the bag. He seemed full of nervous energy – they both did. The tension between them was so palpable that Eddie could almost taste it on his tongue – electric, like ozone.

“I’m glad you’re here, man.” Steve offered, one hand on the back of his neck. It was so adorable Eddie had to fight the blush rising to his cheeks. This kind of energy was contagious.

“Same here, dude. Excited to watch you piss your pants in fear.” Eddie smirked at him, tilting his head towards the pile of horror movie Steve had ‘borrowed’ from Family Video, claiming employee perks even when they both knew there was no such thing.

“Pervert. Maybe you’ll piss your pants.”

“Maybe I will, just for the fun of it.” Eddie stuck out his tongue, feeling as high as he always did when they joked around like this.

“Exactly – pervert.” Steve said - perhaps a little more fondly than he had intended, if the way he coughed into his fist a beat later was any indication. “Gonna order us pizza now, be back in a sec.”

Eddie waved him off, trying to relax into the sofa cushions and calm down the rapid beating of his heart. Steve’s sudden absence seemed to remind his nose to start tickling anew – he’d managed to steel himself for the walk up to Steve’s house, parked outside and recovering from the sneezing fit that had overwhelmed him on the short drive over. It had been desperate and uncovered, and he’d blushed to see the sheer amount of glittering spray left twinkling on his dashboard when the sneezes finally tapered off.

Remembering this event was the final straw – his nostrils twitched lustily, wanting that same relief all over again. He scrambled for his bandana, not wanting to spray openly, at least while Steve was out of the room. Leaning forward on the couch, he allowed his expression to loosen, panting expectantly as the sneezes built. With one outstretched finger he bullied the tip of his nose from side to side, gasping suddenly as the motion finally allowed the tickle to peak.

“Hh'EhhHT'TChiew!! 'Tisshh! HaHDT'Tshh!! ISSH'uu! Hh'NGxtshieww!! Eh'NGXtt!-NGXT'TCHIEW!! Fuck, shit. HEH'ISHH!! ISSH'IEWW! EH'Tschh-TScch-Tshtt!!”

He caught each one in the bandana, rocking forward into his own hand, gripping the couch cushion with the other. The tail end of the fit had been so vicious his leg kicked up off the ground a few times. He hoped Steve had heard him, but he hadn’t been able to make out any change to that pleasing voice as he ordered their food over the phone.

Eddie scrubbed at his tickly nostrils a couple of times, allowing himself in Steve’s absence to physically scratch them internally with his fingers through the fabric. It felt amazing, to literally scratch the itch, causing even more tears to spring forth and cling to his damp eyelashes. When he was done, he lazily half-shoved the fabric into his pocket and resettled himself. By the time Steve sauntered back into the room, he was comfortably nestled into the couch, the only evidence of his struggle a nose slightly pinker than two minutes prior.

“All good?” He asked, noting that his voice sounded a little stuffier than before. Good.

“Yep, ETA thirty minutes on the pizza.”

Rather than settling down on the couch, Steve walked towards the pile of videos on the floor. Eddie got up and started sifting through them with him. A short debate ensued, where the pair bickered over the kind of movie they should start their marathon with – in Eddie’s mind, shockingly reminiscent of the way the kids had argued the night he had clocked onto Steve’s secret interest. Steve didn’t want to be too scared, and Eddie could understand – but he didn’t want to be bored, above all else, and some of these B movies were...not great. They eventually settled for ‘Fright Night’ – which Eddie had seen before but didn’t mind rewatching. He was more interested in edging his way ever closer to Steve.

They settled down next to each other on the couch as the movie started - not an excessively macho distance apart, but not close enough for Eddie’s liking. It wasn’t long before their nervous shifting brought them closer together, like a dance neither of them knew they were doing. Even when Eddie stifled three little sneezes against an outstretched finger, barely audible, Steve didn’t tense up and flee the way Eddie had expected. He offered a soft little ‘bless you’ that went straight to Eddie’s dick and pressed his knee against his.

Eddie could hardly breathe. He watched the movie but took in nothing. The weight and heat of Steve’s leg against his own was the centre of his world.

Both of them jumped when the doorbell went – Eddie suspected for different reasons. The horror was starting to amp up, and Steve was practically chewing his own fingers off. He jumped almost a foot in the air, laughed, then assured Eddie he would get the door. They ate the pizza in companionable silence when he returned, laughing through mouthfuls of cheese as the movie became laughably camp.

~~~~~

Eddie managed to eat about half the pizza he could usually wolf down. The anxiety, the excitement of being so close to Steve was driving him crazy – and he hadn’t even enacted the latest tease he had devised as part of Operation: Drive Steve Crazy. The little daisy he had plucked outside his trailer seemed to burn through his other pocket, wrapped in another of his bandanas.

The plan had been to switch it up with his regular bandana, then keep the daisy concealed as he lifted the fabric to his nose. Steve would be clueless to his mischief as the little flower teased him into sneeze after sneeze.

For this to work seamlessly, he needed to sneeze again. That way, when he reached for the bandana, Steve wouldn’t so easily put two and two together that the fabric enclosed around the flower was an active source of irritation for him, ultimately operating as the cause of many more sneezes to come.

Eddie glanced subtly over at Steve – he seemed suitably engrossed in the movie. Eddie was glad he was enjoying it, perhaps a little regretful that he would soon be distracting Steve enough that he would be entirely unable to focus on it any longer. It was a fun movie. He raised a hand to his nose and started to wriggle the tip back and forth, scratching a fingernail round the rim of one sensitive, flaring nostril, and then the other. It was a maddening sensation, and it was just enough to work.

"EhHT'TSChiew! TSsiew!! Hah'TCHiew! ESHH'uu!! Ahh. ‘Scuse me.”

He sniffled, pressing a finger gently to his philtrum to avoid further outbursts for the moment. To his absolute pleasure, Steve blessed him softly, reaching out to squeeze his knee for just a moment. He didn’t turn to face Eddie – whether he was really that into the movie or was simply too embarrassed to look at him the metalhead couldn’t be sure. He muttered a small thanks, and with a shaking hand, reached into his pocket for the handkerchief – and the daisy concealed within.

This was crazy. He knew it was crazy – it made him feel almost physically ill with a heady mixture of anxiety and desire – but he was doing it all the same. Steve wasn’t looking at him as he gently unfolded the bandana, peeking inside to locate the little flower. He found it, his heart beating as he saw the smears of yellow pollen it had left against the black material from being smushed inside. He pinched the daisy stem between the fabric, holding it securely just out of sight, and lifted the bandana up to his nose.

It took barely the slightest sniff for the gentle flare of his nostrils to expand to capacity; the pollen tickled him mercilessly. He sniffed again, even softer, but that was all he needed before a dramatic gasp tore its way out of him, making Steve jump slightly in his peripheral vision. He had no time to apologise before his watery eyes slammed shut, mouth yawning open, and then he was convulsing repeatedly into the cloth clutched between shaking hands.

"Heh'ENGXT'TSSieww!! 'TSShHhieww!! Ah'ISHH'uuu! Haht'TChiew!! EHdtt'TChieww!! Ehh'NGxt'TSsschh!!"

“Fuck, Eddie – are you okay??” Steve asked, but Eddie couldn’t respond. His head ducked down over and over again, the sneezes growing in intensity as he lost all ability to hold them back.

"DDzZZT'TSsHIEwww!! haHH'AGKk'KShieww!! hh-HH! EHHDT'TSCchieww!! HIGK'TSSHhh!! 'TZZSHiewww!!"

Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. The daisy and all of its residual pollen was pressed up against his face, teasing his nostrils even as they fought valiantly to purge themselves of the tickle. And god, did it tickle. His eyes were streaming down his cheeks, fat tears of irritation rolling down as he continued to sneeze. Steve started rubbing a broad palm up and down his back, gripping his knee with another hand. Eddie’s cock was incredibly happy with the current turn of events, and he was grateful not for the first time for his preference of dark clothing.

"HuHHPT'TSSHhhh!! TISHH'Iewww!! Hh'IGSHHHH!! ESHH'IEWW!! hahH'AEGK'TSHieww!!...Hh-H-HH-!! EHDT'TISHH'IEWWW!!

That last sneeze ended on such a high-pitched and desperate vocalisation he would have mistaken himself for a girl. And fucking hell, that was embarrassing and arousing all at once. Steve exhaled, a broken sound that made Eddie want to go off in his pants. He absolutely could not let that happen, though – he had to put an end to this, at least cut off the source of immediate irritation. He lowered the bandana into his lap, exposing his dripping face to Steve as his face contorted in a tortured mask of anticipation.

A couple of really big, uncovered sneezes would probably put an end to this – at least he hoped. He couldn’t switch out bandanas right now without risking exposure – both of the daisy and of his erection, which Steve was bound to notice if he looked down at Eddie scrambling in his pockets. He let the ticklish, allergic sensation build, gasping dramatically and wishing he had some way of watching Steve watch him.

He gasped once, twice, then allowed his entire body to be thrown forward with the force of the resulting sneezes he caught loosely with one upraised palm – or that he, more accurately, merely aimed the sneezes towards.

"HAHHH!! HAHh'ESHHH'IEWWww!! Hh-HHH!! IIEESHHHH'IEWWW!!! Ohh my god…hh, fuckk…Bless me.”

“Fuck, Eddie. Bless you. Holy shit.”

He snuffled into his hand, feeling floaty and over-sensitised. Bleary eyed, he looked over at Steve, taking in that familiar expression; bedroom eyes, slightly parted lips as his breathing deepened, the flushing of his gorgeous tan cheeks. He looked a little longer, blinking away tears, and then he looked pointedly down. Steve pressed his legs together and shifted his hips in a pitiful attempt to shield his erection, but Eddie had seen it. He swallowed against a sudden deluge of saliva at the sight.

His eyes slowly made their way back to Steve’s face. As they did so, Steve pulled his hands away from Eddie’s back and knee. The sudden absence made Eddie shiver and long for that touch again, a burning need that made him feel almost feverish with desire. The movie continued in the background, and Steve turned unfocused eyes back to the screen, his posture rigid and awkward.

Eddie wiped his palm clean on the bandana, staring at Steve. He knew Steve knew he was watching him, but stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. Eddie felt like screaming. He wanted Steve to throw himself at him, kiss him until they were both breathless. Why wasn’t he doing that? What more prompting could he possibly want??

Fuck it, Eddie thought. If Steve needs direct, direct is what he’ll get.

“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asked, pressing his knee against Steve’s, forcing himself back into his space. Steve visibly flinched. He still didn’t look at him.

“Uh, yeah. It’s a good movie.” He mumbled, sounding reedy and desperate in a way Eddie had never heard before.

“We both know I’m not talking about the movie, big boy.”

Eddie brought the bandana back up to his face, just for a second, just enough that the daisy pushed him over the edge for an encore.

“EhhTT'CHIeww!! TIShh'ieww! hh'NGXTsshh!! DTSCH'Uuu!! Fucking hell….”

Steve shivered and scrunched his eyes shut. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck tight and tense. To Eddie’s sadistic delight, his face was blooming an impressive shade of red.

“Bless you,” He breathed. He remained facing the TV like a lifeline, like looking at Eddie might actually kill him. “I…don’t know what you mean.”

Eddie frowned. He was getting irritated and short-tempered. All of the games he had been playing, the weeks of endless sexual frustration – the end was so near he could almost taste victory. But Steve was stubborn, stalwart - clinging to denial even as Eddie caught him red-handed.

“Harrington. Look at me.” No movement. “Steve. Please.”

It made no difference. In a display of uncharacteristic strength, Eddie yanked Steve by the bicep, ignoring his yelp of shock as he turned towards him, finally looking him in the face.

“Come on,” Eddie purred, lowering his voice the way he would when he was playing a seductive character in a D&D campaign, praying it was efficacious enough that Steve would listen. The younger man sat rapt, frozen like a deer in headlights. Eddie swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a moment let his courage crest, and then –

Steve’s eyes were round, wider than Eddie had ever seen them, completely zoned in on the daisy he raised up between them. He twirled it between his fingers, displaying the tiny little flower that pulled so many desperate sneezes from him. It still wasn’t enough. He still had to say it.

“You like it when I sneeze, Steve.”

~~~~~

The silence stretched between them for long enough that Eddie thought for a moment Steve hadn't heard him. He was about to repeat himself when Steve tore his eyes aware from the daisy and up to Eddie’s face.

It was like being sucker punched in the gut. Whatever Eddie had been expecting – arousal, acceptance, embarrassment, admission – it hadn’t been this. Steve looked at him with sheer anger and contempt. He was looking at him like he was a bug he wanted to squish underfoot. Eddie gawked like an idiot, finding himself as wordless as Steve had been moments earlier.

His eyes silently followed Steve as the younger man stood up, towering over him. Eddie could barely breathe.

“Get out.” Steve spat, glaring down at him. Eddie could only sit and stare back up at him like an idiot.

“Get. Out.” Steve repeated, his voice a little louder and dripping with emotion. Eddie’s mouth opened and closed, like a kind of stupid, catatonic goldfish. Any and all confidence he’d been exuding mere moments ago had vanished, leaving him cowering with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

“Steve. What??” He managed, sounding raspy and miles away. The way Steve was looking at him made his chest feel like it had caved in. His skin was prickly and he felt uncomfortable all over.

Steve’s fists were clenched tight, and they clenched even tighter when Eddie spoke. Eddie swallowed, his mind conjuring up the awful image of Steve beating him to a pulp.

No. This wasn’t what he’d planned. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be more wrong. He needed to do something, to fix it before his entire world imploded. His mouth opened, but he was voiceless, again. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Steve’s; they had him pinned like a butterfly to board.

“…Is that why you’ve been getting closer to me?” Steve said suddenly. The sounds from the TV swelled in the background, a cheesy pop number playing as the protagonists found themselves in a nightclub. It barely registered to either of them.

“To humiliate me? To play some fucking elaborate joke on me?” Steve went on, voice shaking, staring and staring. Eddie shook his head frantically, panic swelling in his chest.

“No. No. Steve, listen to me –“

“You should get the fuck out of here before I kick your ass."

Hurt. Hurt exploded in his chest and spread through his extremities in an overwhelming wave that made Eddie feel like he was dying. Sickly goosebumps broke out on his arms. No. This wasn’t happening.

“Steve. Please. Just give me a minute. I can explain, I can explain everything.”

At last, Steve’s eyes swivelled away, and with their gaze their paralysing effect. Eddie jumped to his feet, hands raised cautiously in front of himself as he eyed Steve’s balled fists. Steve’s brow was furrowed, his teeth clenched tight. Eddie realised in another sickening rush that he was trying to hold back tears. His own eyes prickled in response.

“I don’t want to hear it, man. Just go away.”

Steve’s voice was thick with emotion. It was agonising to hear. Eddie was no stranger to self-hatred, but everything before seemed to pale in the face of his latest fuck-up. His own voice trembled as he opened his mouth.

“Steve. Please. I need you to listen to me. Please look at me. You’re my friend, man. I don’t want to humiliate you. What the fuck. I’m freaking out, Steve, please look at me.”

He rambled, sounding like a fucking maniac - like the way he'd spoken moments after he’d had Steve pinned to the wall of the boathouse, relaying what horrors he’d seen that night in his trailer. Completely and utterly lost, like the world was caving in around him. Steve must have recognised that desperation because he did turn to look at Eddie, eyes shiny and wet but marginally less hostile. Now he just looked pained.

“Then what is this, Eddie? What the fuck are you doing to me?”

Eddie floundered for a moment, licking his lips nervously, fingers twitching. It was okay. Steve wasn’t going to punch him out. He probably hated him, but he didn’t want to kill him. Progress.

“I’ve been. I’ve been flirting with you. Fuck.” When Steve merely looked at him, he carried on. “I figured out you like it when I sneeze, so I just. Kept doing it around you. As often as I could.”

From a purely clinical standpoint, Eddie could admit it was fascinating watching Steve’s face shift through so many expressions and colours in a matter of seconds, taking in what Eddie was saying. He looked almost blue when he muttered a strained little ‘When,’ under his breath.

“Steve, dude, you need to sit down.” Eddie reached out nervously, his hand hovering next to Steve as the younger man looked about five seconds away from passing out. Steve shook his head.

“When,” He repeated, words almost slurring together, “Did you figure it out?”

“…The night I came round for the movies with all the kids and had a real bad allergy attack.”

Steve groaned, sitting down at last and cradling his face in his palms. Shaking, Eddie lowered himself down beside him, crouching on the very edge of the cushion. He touched a gentle hand to Steve’s shoulder.

“Please don’t.” Steve moaned, and Eddie pulled his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove.

“Steve…It’s okay.” Eddie started, leg bouncing up and down and shaking the couch with it, but finding himself unable to stop. He felt sick with anxiety. He watched as Steve shook his head, face still buried in his hands.

“You don’t understand.” Steve rasped. “This is mortifying for me. It’s not normal. I’m not normal.”

Eddie shook his head, clenching his eyes shut, even though Steve couldn’t see.

“No, man. It’s really okay. I know how you feel – “ Steve scoffed, shoulders jumping, but Eddie ignored him. “I do. I understand you.”

Steve swallowed, hissing a breath between his teeth as he shook his head again, even harder. He was pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“No, Munson. You don’t. I’m fucking sick. You know. You know I am. Fuck. I am humiliated.” He was openly crying now, hiccupping soft little breaths like he was moments away from a panic attack, which didn’t seem like an impossibility.

Eddie looked at his shaking shoulders, then turned his gaze up at the ceiling. A wave of defeat seemed to pass over him, like a thick shroud that numbed his anxiety and filled him with a sense of sudden, otherworldly calm. It was extraordinary, quite how much he had fucked this up. Steve, instead of jumping into his arms and ravaging him, was now having an emotional breakdown right beside him. He’d made Steve cry. Instead of bringing them together, he had pushed them apart. No further than a foot away from each other, they may as well have been on other continents in that moment.

With the calm and the defeat came the benevolent thought, like a heavenly doctrine from above: Fuck It.

“No, Steve. I really understand. I’m exactly the same as you. I get off to sneezing too. If you’re sick, then so am I.”

His delivery was flat and felt anticlimactic, but it was out there. He’d admitted it out loud, for the first time in all his twenty years. The relief he’d been expecting by confessing was entirely numbed by the bitter self-hatred, by Steve’s gentle crying beside him. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he sat still for long enough, he’d simply cease to exist.

“You really need to fuck off if you’re going to mock me.” Steve moaned into his hands.

“You don’t need to believe me. It doesn’t stop it from being true.”

Eddie sat there, stoic as a statue, entirely focused on his new mission of vanishing into the ether. He didn’t notice when Steve stopped crying, so when Steve placed a hand on his thigh, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus-!”

“Are you serious?”

Eddie willed his soul back into his body, looking at Steve’s face – his poor blotchy face, eyes swollen and damp with salty tears – and felt himself smile, weakly, despite himself.

“Yeah, man. Is it really that surprising?”

He felt like crying too. He was utterly exhausted, and he’d done it all to himself. Him and his grand plans. At least Steve was no longer looking at him with hatred or pain. Now he wore a look of cautious inquisitiveness. He tried to focus on the sensation of Steve’s warm hand through his jeans, like a tether to the material world.

“Will you tell me more?” Steve asked, softly, like he was abashed at his own overreaction, and like Eddie was a delicate flower to be handled with care. Maybe his destructive meditation had started to work. Perhaps he was turning translucent right now, and Steve was trying to coax him back to total opacity. He laughed, a forced, reedy little sound.

“What do you want to know?” He smiled down at his knees. “That I’ve been teasing you in the hopes that you’d figure out I was the same? That I thought you would confess to me, that you might actually want to do something about it?”

He grit his teeth as tears of self-directed anger started to form, blurring the image of his knees and the back of Steve’s hand in his periphery. He breathed out shakily.

“That I’ve been driving myself mad with stupid fantasies and touching myself to the thought of you, Steve Harrington, actually being with me? Wanting me back in the same fucked up way?”

Steve’s hand gently tensed on his thigh. He carried on, unable to stop, letting the tears gently roll down his cheeks.

“I’m the one who’s mortified. I’m humiliated. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, man. I never fucking think, I just do. I do stupid things all the time. I fucked up. I’ve made a fool of myself, and I made you fucking cry in the process, and I really fucking wish the ground would open up and swallow me right about now.”

He exhaled. That was the catharsis he had been looking for. He was bitterly angry with himself, but he felt lighter than he had in – well. An exceedingly long time.

Steve said nothing, and Eddie didn’t bother looking up. They had both stopped crying. The movie suddenly seemed too loud, penetrating their bubble. Eddie listened as Steve reached for the remote and turned the TV off entirely. His hand never left his thigh.

“Do you still want me to go?” Eddie asked, so low it was almost a whisper.

“…No. Don’t go.”

Eddie looked up in disbelief. Steve was looking at him with huge, sad eyes. Where there had once been icy hostility, there was now only warmth. Eddie swallowed, eyes flicking back and forth between each of Steve’s.

“I don’t disgust you? For what I did, and everything I just said?”

Steve shook his head.

“No. Not one bit.” Steve swallowed. “I just…can’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t know you liked guys?”

Eddie flashed him a wobbly smile.

“Neither did I. Not until you.”

Steve’s hand squeezed his thigh again, and despite everything, Eddie felt his cock hardening under the attention.

“So…” Steve said. “Do you – are you saying you like me, then?”

Eddie giggled at that, letting his head tip backwards until he was leaning back into the couch and laughing for real. When it didn’t stop, he pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. He peered at Steve under damp eyelashes, relieved to find him waiting patiently and decidedly not about to take a swing at him.

“Harrington…” He managed at last, “I just told you I jerked off thinking about you in the weirdest possible way. I told you I’ve been flirting with you. We talk on the phone almost every night. I think it’s safe to say that uhh, yeah, dude – I fucking like you a lot.”

Steve nodded, fucking nodded his head in response. He looked pensive, like Eddie had explained some kind of scientific theory to him and he was really chewing it over.

“Good. Good.” He nodded some more. Then he started to crawl up the couch until he was pressed right up against Eddie’s side.

“Steve,” Eddie breathed, arms instinctively coming up to wrap around the younger man’s shoulders as he positioned himself over him, thighs outside Eddie’s, sandwiching him in.

“I like you too. I think I just finally figured it out. I like you.” Steve seemed further emboldened with each word, like speaking it aloud had been the final push he needed to open up to the previously unimaginable.

Eddie’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he may be dying for the third time in as many minutes, but this time he found he didn’t care.

“Steve,” He sighed again, unable to say anything else, hoping it was enough to convey everything. His cock was an exclamation between his legs. Steve hummed in response, pressing their bodies together and cupping Eddie’s jaw in one hand. When their clothed erections rubbed against each other, they both shivered and moaned as though electrocuted. Steve held his face close to Eddie’s, eyes like molten liquid as he gazed at Eddie under hooded lids. Eddie’s breath puffed out against his lips.

“Is it okay if I kiss you now?” He murmured, so close Eddie could feel the words take form.

~~~~~

Eddie lunged forward in response, pressing their lips together and pulling a tiny sound of surprise out of Steve. Their teeth clacked together a little painfully, and Eddie would have cringed away if Steve hadn’t reciprocated with just as much enthusiasm moments later. It was a heated mess, but then they found their rhythm and everything felt fucking electric. They writhed against each other, moaning into each other’s mouths with every nip and suck.

Clawing at Steve’s shoulders, feeling like he was going insane with desire, Eddie sucked Steve’s tongue, hard. The rumbling of Steve’s reciprocal moan made Eddie’s hands tingle where they rested on his back, the reverberations sending chills down his arms. When Steve returned the favour, then pulled away with a filthy popping sound and starting nibbling at Eddie’s bottom lip, he made such a girly sound of appreciation it took him a moment to realise the sound was coming from him.

Steve’s hand continued to cup his face, his other hand supporting his position over Eddie against the back of the couch. The metalhead marvelled at how he could feel like such a soft puddle of nerves whilst being the hardest he had possibly ever been in his life – an oxymoronic existence. His cock was straining in his pants, honestly starting to hurt a little. He wanted to do more than just suck and moan and buck into Steve as he clung to him like a lifeline, but the kissing was so captivating he couldn’t bear to stop.

He didn’t really get much of a say in the matter, however, as moments later his nose began to prickle ominously. The tickle clearly didn’t like being ignored, especially after all the direct exposure to pollen fuelling its voracity. It was as if it had waited for his crisis to end and the kissing to start before rearing its head once more. Each time Steve’s nose nudged against his own, the tickle blossomed relentlessly. He groaned deeply, feeling lightheaded as his brain - slow and semi-functional, bereft of blood as it was - suddenly acknowledged what was about to transpire.

He pulled back with an awkward popping sound, Steve chasing him immediately and stopping only when Eddie turned his face away entirely.

“Hey,” Steve gasped, sounding immediately concerned. “Are you okay? Wanna stop?”

“N-no-” Eddie managed, stuttering as the tickle ground against his sinuses, leaving itchy tears to prickle at the corners of his eyes. He turned back to Steve. “I just – I have’to-!!”

He pulled in one final, lung-filling gasp, teetering on the edge for a moment before he felt Steve press his face into the crook of his neck and kiss at his heated skin. The pleasant surprise of it pushed him over the edge, buckling forward and sneezing violently over Steve’s shoulder and down the back of his T-shirt.

"EHhT'TSHhieww!! ISHHH'UU! Hah'EnGXT'TSchieww!! TIShhh!! HIG'TChieww! HAH'ESHHHhhh!! Ohh, fuck…"

Steve moaned into his neck, the vibrations sending further chills of pleasure through Eddie and raising even more goosebumps up and down his arms. He sniffled, feeling dazed and dreamlike, and then he was gasping again, albeit for a different reason as Steve started to suck a hickey onto the side of his throat. He didn’t believe the myth jocks liked to espouse that they were de facto sex gods, bragging about the pussy they got and the way they made girls cream the second they touched them – but Steve? He believed it now. His toes curled at the pleasure-pain of that sucking, just the right amount of teeth and pressure to leave him writhing.

“Fuckkk, Steve-!”

Steve pulled away at last, licking the sensitive skin and blowing on it, making Eddie shudder again. He kissed up Eddie’s jaw, all the way to his mouth.

“Bless you, Munson. You’re driving me crazy.” He murmured before kissing Eddie again.

“Mmm,” was all Eddie could manage for another moment, then he was kissing back harder.

“Did that…did it feel good?” Steve muttered against his lips when they reached a natural lull in the kissing. Eddie’s face heated, because yes, it had felt fucking incredible. His cock throbbed and throbbed in his jeans.

“Yeah, fuck. Feels so good to sneeze, Steve.”

Steve sighed in pleasure, laughing a little and kissing the side of his mouth.

“Well, I guess your allergies aren’t such a bad thing.”

“You have no idea,” Eddie gasped, lips feeling swollen as they kissed each other stupid, “How good they feel for me.”

“Then tell me, please.” Steve said, making it impossible for Eddie to do so as they kissed for another two minutes straight.

Breaking away with a moan, Eddie gripped at Steve’s shoulders, putting to the back of his mind that his iron grip was probably stretching the tight fabric beyond repair.

“It turns me on. Not just other people, but me…I like it when I sneeze, too.” His eyes were screwed shut as he confessed, but the way Steve’s breath hitched as he started to rock his hips against his own urged him forward.

“I have to jerk myself off most mornings, when the pollen count is stupidly high. I wake up sneezing, and sneezing, and it takes me so long to stop. I just have to let it happen. And it feels amazing.”

Steve swore, burying his face into Eddie’s neck again and starting to grind against him even harder. Eddie moaned and carried on.

“Sometimes it’s so much I can’t even get out of bed and take my meds before it starts. It’s like the pollen’s been teasing me all night long but there was nothing my nose could do until I woke up, and then it doesn’t stop. I have to touch myself,”

He let his hands travel down Steve’s spine, emboldened with every word.

“And I make myself cum. The sneezes make my whole body feel so good, it never takes me long. Sometimes I think about – hah! People watching me.”

He gasped mid-sentence as Steve started to suck another hickey, this time right near his jawline.

“I think about – about other people touching me, and holding me while I do it. Fuck it, Steve, I think about you. I think about your hand on my cock, making me cum, letting me sneeze all over you-!"

“Fuck, Eddie!” Steve reached down between them, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down. He hesitated for a moment before standing up, shucking them off entirely, then his t-shirt, until he was standing in front of Eddie in just his boxer briefs.

“God, Harrington. You’re – wow.” Eddie murmured, wishing he could do more than gape like a moron as he took in the sight of him. For what it was worth Steve seemed elated by the response, smirking and moving effortlessly now that he was in his element.

“You gonna join me?” Steve prompted after a moment longer of Eddie drooling at him.

“Oh! Yeah, fuck, hold on.”

Eddie all but yanked his band shirt over his head, swearing as his guitar pick necklace managed to get tangled in his hair in the process. He reached for the tangle, shooting Steve an apologetic glance but receiving a look of pure hunger at the sight of his shirtless torso, so intense that he felt like swooning. Steve reached down and unbuckled his pants for him, wordlessly pulling them down as Eddie shifted his hips up, letting him do so. At last he managed to free the traitorous necklace, yanking Steve down on top of him again. It felt even better like this, skin on skin, Steve’s chest hair tickling his pecs as they pressed together.

“You’re so hot, Eddie,” Steve said, sounding like he really meant it - sounding, if possible, even more enthusiastic than he had in any of Eddie’s fantasies.

“Look who’s talking.” Eddie smiled shyly back at him.

Steve lined their hips up for a moment, sighing happily as their cocks pressed together. To Eddie, it somehow felt like the thin fabric of their underwear alone was even more torturous than when they had had the additional barrier of their jeans. He rocked up against Steve, moaning against his collar bone and clutching at his waist. Steve kissed into his hair, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“Have you ever thought about me?” Eddie panted out, with great effort, as Steve shuffled out of his boxers and started to help Eddie out of his own.

Steve’s cock, as expected, was unfairly large and gorgeous. It was hard to miss through the outline of his jeans even totally flaccid – seeing it at full potential had Eddie’s mouth watering, but also making his own junk feel entirely insufficient in comparison. His cock, though not small and what he would personally describe as on the bigger side of average, seemed to cower for a moment. He immediately shut down that unwelcome train of thought, refusing to feel emasculated and jealous like a fucking loser when Steve was right fucking there in front of him, his huge dick hard for him. What the fuck.

Steve reached down and took Eddie’s cock in his warm, broad palm, cradling him for a moment. Eddie twitched immediately, drooling precum down Steve’s knuckles.

“Shit,” He whimpered, nails digging into Steve’s waist.

Steve pulled back his hand, spat into it, then started to pump him in earnest. Eddie’s head tipped back with one long, closed mouth groan. Fuck, that felt good.

“I have – thought about you.” Steve confirmed after a moment. “Is this okay?” He asked, stroking and squeezing a little harder as Eddie moaned his affirmation.

“I’ve thought about you a couple of times, but I didn’t – I tried not to think about it afterwards. I felt too – you know. Ashamed, I guess. We’re both guys and I was thinking about us together, and how you – aghh. You know what I mean.”

Steve was shy, Eddie realised. He was naked, sprawled on top of Eddie and pumping his cock like a pro, even rolling his balls in his sack with his other hand – and he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word ‘sneeze’. Eddie felt a sudden wave of mischievous energy embolden him.

“Thought about me sneezing, Steve?” He looked up at him, eyes hooded and bright. When Steve blushed, all pretty and flustered, Eddie’s cock lurched in his fist. He clenched his teeth, feeling his orgasm approaching at an embarrassing pace.

“Need to back it up, Harrington – fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, god.”

Steve sped up.

“That’s kind of the point, Munson. We’re having sex.”

“Smart-ass,” Eddie whined, toes curling as Steve stroked him mercilessly. “I haven’t even touched you yet, fuck.”

“Then touch me.” Steve sighed, bringing Eddie’s hand from his waist and urging it to his cock.

Eddie spat in his hand before touching him, but Steve was already so wet at the tip, he noticed with no small amount of pride, that he barely needed the extra lubrication. It was like masturbating in reverse, on a bigger, thicker cock than he was used to, but so familiar he took to it in no time. The sounds that Steve was making, the look on his face as Eddie pulled at him – it was so incredible that his own pleasure seemed to fade into the background. All he could focus on was Steve, on making him sigh and moan and whisper his name. He liked the way Steve’s hips thrust uncontrollably whenever he teased at his frenulum, so he did it again and again.

“Fuck,” Steve sighed, urging their cocks together and rocking his hips. It was a little awkward as they jerked each other off, and their knuckles kept bumping together, so Eddie reached up and pawed at Steve’s hairy chest and stomach instead, pinching and teasing at his nipples as Steve took over rubbing them both. When he reached behind and grabbed at Steve’s round, muscular ass, Steve all but growled, speeding up his efforts and causing both of them to gasp.

“Fuck, this feels so good. Why does this feel so good?” He sighed against Eddie’s mouth. Eddie didn’t know what to say, because he himself was having a hard time remembering his own name. He kissed Steve’s neck furiously, nuzzling into the hair at the nape of his neck, inhaling his scent as deeply as possible. He smelled so good, like sweat and hairspray and cologne and something uniquely Steve. When Eddie’s nostrils prickled ever so slightly in response, he thought of the little daisy, wrapped in his bandana beside them on the couch.

“Stevie,” He muttered against Steve’s mouth. “Do you want me to sneeze for you?”

Steve’s cock throbbed so powerfully in response Eddie was sure he was about to shoot right then and there. His red face and immediate extraction of his masturbating hand seemed to signify that that had very much been the case. He managed to hold back through sheer willpower. Their cocks bobbed against each other in the sudden absence of his grip.

“Fuck, yes, yes.” Steve panted.

Eddie smiled, reaching for his bandana. He twirled the little daisy between his fingers, and sat back.

“You ready?” He asked, shooting a crooked smile at Steve, who was staring at him with a look of total adoration.

“Yeah,” He sighed out, taking their cocks back into his grip and pumping them again.

“Do you mind if I sneeze on you?” Eddie asked, heart pounding in his chest. Steve’s cock throbbed against his own.

“Oh! N-No. I mean yes, please. On me, don’t turn away.” Steve managed, his whole chest flushing beneath the thick hair there.

Eddie’s cock throbbed as he brought the daisy up to his nose, feeling so excited he could hardly stand it. He inhaled the sweet scent of it, gently enough that the tickle built gradually, teasing both himself and Steve, prolonging the pleasure. At last, his nostrils gave a decisive twitch, flaring to capacity as the allergic tickle swelled beyond breaking point.

“Ohh, gonna sneeze! Fuck, yeah, mm’gonna-!”

Dropping the daisy and reaching up to grip Steve’s shoulders, Eddie let the tickly, teasing pollen overwhelm him.

"Hah'ETSCHH'Ieww!! ISHH'Ieww!! IESHHTTt!! Hah'ESHHH!! IGXSHtt-ISHhh-ISHh'iewww!!"

Like Steve requested, he didn’t turn away, more than happy to shower him with his sneezes as he had done in an embarrassing number of his personal fantasies. It always felt good to sneeze with his own hand on his cock – it felt even better in Steve’s grip, rubbing up against his solid prick. He didn’t particularly aim the sneezes anywhere, just let them do as they would – but he suspected they were going just about everywhere. Steve’s chest, neck, stomach – and most importantly, his cock. That last one he could confirm, his own cock throbbing each time he felt the aerosol of his sneezes rain down in a gentle mist.

Whether Steve had willingly timed his orgasm with the end of Eddie’s fit, or whether he simply couldn’t hold out anymore, the moment the last sneeze burst out of Eddie and onto his waiting skin he came with a shuddering moan. Eddie raked his fingernails down Steve’s back, gasping as he shuddered and pulsed against him, spurting in several long convulsions all over Eddie’s torso, some of his pleasure reaching far enough to paint white stripes over the metalhead’s chest. It looked – and sounded – like Steve was having an absolutely mind-breakingly good time, and Eddie’s own toes curled in response as his own climax lurched suddenly closer.

“Fuckkkk, Oh my god, Eddie,” Steve was moaning, trembling slightly as he came down from the heights of his high. Eddie squeezed his shoulders tightly in response.

“Steve, fuck me, I’m gonna cum!”

He was thrusting erratically, the extra lubrication of Steve’s orgasm facilitating the approach of his own, images of Steve’s face as he came, the sounds he made, the feeling of him shuddering against him all too much, his eyes screwing shut, and –

“Nooo, Steve, no!” He whined as Steve released both of their cocks, his own starting to soften post-orgasm.

Eddie swore, retracting his own hand from Steve’s back and reaching between his legs, only for Steve to pull it away by the wrist. He grunted in displeasure, looking up at Steve with accusatory eyes.

“Why’d you stop, man? I was right fuckin’ there.”

If a dick could frown, his would be doing so at that very moment. At least Steve had the decency to look apologetic, even as the afterglow of his own orgasm softened his eyes in naked satisfaction.

“Sorry, I just – I just thought you might want me to. Um. Return the favour? Since we’re,” Steve gestured with his hand, back and forth between them. “The same.”

It took Eddie a second, and then the realisation made his sensitive cock throb so violently he grunted with it.

“You’re offering to sneeze for me?” He asked, light-headed with anticipation.

“Yeah, if that’s something you’d want.”

Steve looked so shy, so fucking vulnerable, but his soft brown eyes were burning as they peered at Eddie, flicking this way and that, waiting for his confirmation.

“Steve, holy fuck –“ Eddie gripped him by the waist, squeezing him firmly. “That is something I want, like, 24/7, man. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life, fucking shit.” He babbled.

Reassured, and laughing a little breathlessly, Steve stood up, walking the few paces to the coffee table and reaching for a box of tissues. Eddie stared openly at his flagging cock, still half-hard and hanging in front of him. He needed to cum so badly it was agonising.

Steve repositioned himself over Eddie, straddling him in a way that was starting to feel to Eddie like one of the most natural things in the world. His hands reached instinctively for Steve’s waist, then wandered down to squeeze at his ass.

He watched, swallowing hard as Steve extracted a tissue and started to twist a corner of it into a long, tapered point. It didn’t take long for Eddie to understand the functionality. He smirked up at Steve, feeling a new kind of excitement rush over him; the evidence of the practiced way the younger man had shaped the tissue to no doubt tickle himself made it seem real, concrete that they really were into the same, crazy shit.

Steve smiled back at him, looking pleased with Eddie’s reaction but embarrassed all the same. Eddie would fix that. He would make it his mission to chase away that anxiety.

“I sometimes use this when I can’t – you know. Or when I just want to. When I’m alone.”

“God, Steve. You’re perfect.” Eddie sighed out, bringing Steve into a bear hug and letting the sudden feelings of immense fondness for Steve blend together with his arousal, an intoxicating combination that made his chest tight and his cock even harder than before.

Steve pulled back after a moment, kissing Eddie’s cheek sweetly. He held the tissue up in front of them.

“You want to do it for me? I’ll jerk you off.” He said, sounding excited enough it was as though he hadn’t cum his brains out moments ago.

“Yeah. Holy fuck, yeah.”

Steve reached down without hesitation, and Eddie had to fight from letting his eyes roll back in his head and cum the second those long fingers returned to his length. The skin of his cock felt tight, like it was going to split. Steve hesitated, then tilted his head back, just a little, so that he was presenting his nostrils to Eddie. The older man wasted no time in cupping Steve’s jaw with one hand and inserting the tissue with the other.

“Do I just, like – wiggle it around a little?” He asked, eyelashes fluttering as Steve started to pick up the pace on his cock. God, this would not take long.

“Yeah,” Steve said, “Or sort of – thrust it. It tickles more when you – HH-HAH!! Y-yeah, like that.”

Eddie swore, biting his lip as his cock pulsed, drooling over Steve’s hand in a pre-emptive spasm. He was tickling Steve’s nose – he was actively about to make Steve sneeze. He continued to move the tissue back and forth, gently prodding and watching Steve’s nostrils twitch and flare in response. To Steve’s credit, he was doing a wonderful job of squeezing and stroking Eddie throughout the tickling and teasing.

His chest started to jump with sporadic gasps, every single one threatening to push Eddie over the edge. It felt like he was burning up from the inside, like the intensity of his oncoming orgasm was simply too much for his body to handle and he would actually burst into flame. Steve’s nostrils flared, slackened, flared again as the tickle played with him. When Eddie prodded the tool as deeply as he could, that seemed to be the final straw for Steve. He gasped, a ruined, desperate sound of defeat as at last the tickle crested.

The sound of that final inhalation paired with the desperate look on Steve’s face and the expert stroking of his cock was too much. Eddie felt a wave of heat wash over him, holding him rigid for a moment, and then he was coming, so pleasurable he could barely make sense of it. He desperately wanted to watch Steve sneeze, up close and personal, just for him, but his head was tipping back in a silent scream as he convulsed against the couch. He trembled helplessly, unable to do anything other than fuck gently into Steve’s fist and grip the couch cushions beside him.

He heard Steve’s sneezes seconds later as they tore their way through him – as loud and desperate as he’d ever heard them – his whole body singing in pleasure as he continued to cum.

“HUHHH'RISSSHHHH'UUUU!! HAGKT'TISHHHHH!! AEESSSHHHHHUUUU!!!"

Each sneeze sprayed across his chest and stomach in a rush of warm air and cool aerosol, and the sensation was so erotic he felt his orgasm intensify when it should have been starting to dim. He reeled with it, spilling over Steve’s fist and his own skin, throbs of pleasure that seemed to go on and on. And then it was over, and he was melting into the cushions, no longer a person but molten liquid in the shape of one.

“Ohhh...Oh my god.” He managed after a little while, staring up at the ceiling. Steve’s face leaned into his line of vision, stupidly handsome as he smiled down at him.

“That good, huh?”

Eddie huffed a small laugh out at him, then squeezed his eyes shut as the endorphins overwhelmed him, threatening to make him cry. He felt Steve lean forward, pressing up against him and nuzzling into him. His shaky arms enclosed Steve in a hug. God, but he’d felt that nut right down to his fingertips. He felt like he’d jizzed himself into another existence. His body felt clean, detoxified.

“Eddie.” Steve muttered, face buried in his curls.

“Mm?”

“We’re both covered in cum.”

“Nice.”

“I’m getting a towel.”

“Too late.” Eddie giggled, feeling loopy and stoned.

“A damp one, to clean us up, dumbass.” Steve laughed, shakily standing up and batting Eddie jokingly across the top of his head.

“Oww.” Eddie said, even though he’d barely felt the whisper of the touch, and giggled again.

“Be right back,” Steve was saying as he walked out of the room, wobbling as though drunk, and Eddie waved him off.

He sat there, still staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to the universe. His body and mind were completely blissed out; every nerve was singing happily as he luxuriated in the afterglow, letting himself slowly acknowledge what the fuck had just happened to him. What the fuck he and Steve had just done, willingly, enthusiastically, even after he had fucked up so hugely.

He didn’t realise he’d dozed off until he felt the cool touch of a damp towel on his stomach.

“Here.” Steve smiled at him, urging Eddie to wipe his torso off as he did the same. Eddie managed it mechanically, still feeling more liquid than human.

Steve sighed and collapsed next to him on the couch, leaning his own head back and joining Eddie in looking up at the ceiling.

“We should shower, really.”

“We should.” Eddie agreed, but they both just sat there.

When Steve reached out and slipped his hand into Eddie’s, Eddie gripped him back, sliding his fingers between the younger man’s and squeezing softly.

“Hey.” Eddie said, rolling his head to the side and looking at Steve.

“Hey.” Steve looked back at him, glancing pointedly at his mouth, and then they were both kissing again.

“Go out with me?” Steve asked as they leaned their foreheads together, panting breathlessly.

“Yes.” Eddie breathed out, and Steve’s hands covered him all over again, and everything was electric.

~~~FIN~~~

And with that, Steddie are finally together 🥳

For anyone who is interested, this is the night club scene that is playing in the background whilst Eddie and Steve start having that awful little fight. Such inconvenient timing, honestly

[lanawrx]

Modern! Tanjiro Kamado with a Street Racer Partner

a/n: I love Initial D and KNY so bad, ugh.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

Tanjiro was your biggest supporter, and it showed in every way. No matter how late it was, no matter how far the race, Tanjiro was always there, cheering you on with a smile that could light up the darkest night.

Every time you had a race, Tanjiro would drag Inosuke and Zenitsu along with him.

"Why do we always have to come to these races?!" Zenitsu would wail, clutching his head as the sound of engines roared in the background.

"Shut up, Monitsu!" Inosuke would bark back. "Racing is awesome! She's gonna destroy all of them!"

Tanjiro would show up early, always making sure you had everything you needed. He’d check the car, help you get settled, and give you one of those warm, confident smiles that made your heart race even more than the thought of the competition.

Right before each race began, he'd never fail to give you a good luck kiss or two, as a charm to make sure you'd be safe.

People from the crowd would wolf-whistle and cheer, causing the two of you to blush. Tanjiro would quickly scramble to the guardrails, joining his friends and trying to hide his red face with the darkness from the trees.

When the race started, you could always hear his voice above everyone else's, shouting your name, telling you to keep going, to give it your all. He had this unwavering belief in you, and it pushed you to do your best every single time.

After every race, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins, you'd return to the top of the pass, only to be greeted by Tanjiro's bright smile and the sound of his footsteps running toward you. He’d be practically glowing with pride, his eyes wide with admiration.

“You did it!” Tanjiro would say, pulling you into a tight hug. “I knew you could do it! You were incredible out there.”

You’d smile back, your heart swelling at his praise. No matter how tough the race had been, knowing Tanjiro believed in you made it all worthwhile. Inosuke would stomp over next, probably yelling something about how he knew you’d win because you were as tough as him, while Zenitsu trailed behind, looking relieved that the race was over.

When the adrenaline had faded and it was just you and Tanjiro under the stars, were some of the most precious. He’d take your hand, his fingers warm and gentle against yours, and he’d smile that soft, earnest smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

You didn't understand how you got so lucky to have a partner like Tanjiro. Handsome, kind, and utterly supportive of your hobbies.

Normally, guys would be scared off by your skills. Many times, you'd be dumped over their fears of having a chick who can race better than they ever could. You wondered if you should just quit racing altogether, maybe then you'd secure a longtime relationship.

That all changed when you met Tanjiro.

He was different from anyone you’d ever known. While others saw your passion for racing as intimidating or too much to handle, Tanjiro saw it as something beautiful, something that made you shine even brighter in his eyes. He wasn’t scared off by your skills—if anything, he was inspired by them.

You’d never forget the first time he watched you drive with your all. The way his eyes lit up as he watched you take the wheel, the admiration and pride written all over his face. He wasn’t just impressed by your talent; he was in awe of your determination, your drive, the way you never gave up even when the competition was fierce.

After that first race, he came up to you, his smile as bright as the moon above. “You’re amazing,” he’d said, and you could tell he meant every word. “I’ve never seen anything like it. You’re so strong, so talented—I’m really lucky to know you.”

You’d laughed, a little embarrassed by his praise, but his sincerity was undeniable.

And from that moment on, he never missed a race. No matter how late, no matter how far, Tanjiro was always there, cheering you on, believing in you when others doubted.

Under those stars, with his hand in yours, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and gratitude. You had found someone who loved you, not despite your passion but because of it. Someone who saw your strength and was proud of it.

“You make me feel like I can do anything,” you whispered, looking up at him.

Tanjiro squeezed your hand, his eyes full of warmth. “That’s because you can,” he said softly. “And I’ll always be here, right by your side, cheering you on.”

In that moment, you knew you didn’t have to give up racing—or any part of yourself—to find love. With Tanjiro, you had everything you needed.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡ Thanks for Reading! ˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

[iamqueenpotato]

I Hate That I Love You - Part Five

Azriel x Reader

A/N- Here is part five! Took a bit longer than I planned, life decided to get crazy out of nowhere but what is new haha Anyways here ya go! I hope you guys enjoy it and thank you again for being amazing! 

Word Count: 4k 

Warnings: Angst

Part one

The thread taunted you. The iridescent glow within you felt like needles underneath your skin. You knew it was meant to feel different, but in this moment there was not an inkling of joy across your entire being. 

That mating bond had brought back all your fear and anxieties. That pain you fought so hard to beat, grew back within seconds. What if he knew and never told you? What if he deliberately ignored it because he could never have such feelings for you. The new bond only made your heart ache more. You had ran far from the camps, from the cabin, the trees began blurring together, the damn tears that hadn’t stop since you left the training ring. Your lungs burned as you tried to breathe, but each sob was followed by a heart shattering breath. You collapsed onto the ground, clutching your chest as you let out your cries. It was a moment that felt all too familiar. 

You knew life was unfair, that you were meant to face obstacles and choices that could break you, but this past year wasn’t right. How could the cauldron damn you so? What did you ever do to deserve such agony? 

You wanted to scream, to curse the life you were given. You were content with staying in this forest, letting the cold take you away, numbing everything that had caused you so much pain. 

But the sound of wings above you sent you into a panic, causing you to scramble to your feet. No no no. You couldn’t see Azriel right now, he can’t be here. Even though you said you wouldn’t run, that you would face your problems, it all changed in an instant, because this-

This was a different form of fear. 

You broke out into a sprint once more, hearing whoever it was land, but you didn’t look back, you were panicking, you knew this. All the sensible logic seemed to have left your head. 

“Y/N!” The voice broke through the silence, your legs slowed as you turned to face the male. 

“Surin.” You choked out, running back toward him. He approached you carefully but with open arms. And you hastily jumped into them. Your arms shook as you wrapped them around him, clutching the leathers he wore as if you were afraid to let go. Afraid to be left alone with your thoughts. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice echoed in your head as you held on to him, but softly he pulled you away from him, his green eyes searching your body for any injuries. You knew he would find nothing, part of you wished your pain was caused by a physical wound. Perhaps it would hurt less. “Azriel said you ran off, he thought you were with me. But when I said no he looked even more frantic, it got me worried.” 

No words fell from your lips, not as your mind drifted to Azriel, you didn’t mean to worry him, to make anyone worry in that matter. The poor male in front of you got dragged into your issues, it was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn’t need someone else’s concerns, you had enough of your own. 

“I am fine Surin, you didn’t need to come look for me.” You looked up at him with swollen eyes and the way your voice cracked with emotion contradicted your statement. And you knew Surin was smart enough to realize.

“You can cry in front of me, I won’t judge.” Surin offered you a kind smile before speaking again. “And if you aren’t ready to talk, that’s okay too.” 

You let out a small laugh through your choked sobs, Surin pulled you against him, letting your tears fall onto his chest. “Is this about Azriel?” He asked while rubbing soothing circles along your back. Surin was the last person you expected to be here for you, but it made you all the more grateful for the male. You nodded against his chest. You wanted to confide your reality to him, to whisper those words that felt so foreign along your tongue. But the second you spoke them, it would all become too real. 

Another set of wings sounded above the two of you, and in an instant Surin wrapped his wings around you as if he were protecting you from whoever was approaching.

“I assure you, Y/N does not need protection from me.” You knew that voice. 

Cassian.

Surin pulled his wings back, and all you could see were the red siphons glistening against the fresh snow, Cassian had landed in front of you and Surin.

Cassian’s face was full of concern and he quickly moved toward you.

Pulling away from Surin, you dropped to your knees in front of Cassian. Tears streaming down your face once more. Perhaps it was the relief of seeing your dear friend, but your body gave out entirely. These last few days had drained you, not just physically but mentally. 

“Y/N!” Cassian exclaimed as he slid across the ground, catching you in his arms. “Are you okay? What is going on? Kiddo talk to me.” 

“Cassian.. please get me out of here. Please. I can’t be here Cas, please take me home.” You sounded so broken, the emotion catching in your throat. 

Cassian’s gaze softened. He knew you weren’t going to say much else. “Okay let’s go.”

You were grateful for his understanding, but before Cassian could gather you in his arms, you turned back to face Surin, embracing him tightly. “Thank you. For looking for me.” 

Surin placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Never hesitate to reach out if you need anything.” He brushed his thumb across your cheek. “And I mean anything Y/N.” 

You nodded, embracing him one last time before reaching for Cassian, who gathered you in his arms before launching into the sky. And you could’ve sworn you saw the reflections of blue against the ground below. 

The trip back to Velaris was silent, and by the time the two of you arrived, your tears stained your cheeks. You knew Cassian had an idea of why you were upset, he had always known of your feelings for Azriel, and though he had been supportive of it, telling him that Azriel was your mate felt entirely different. You pushed your thoughts and emotions aside when the river house came into view. You still needed to report back to Rhys, your current problems would have to wait. 

“Thank you Cassian.” Your words were barely a whisper as he placed you down at the entrance.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not letting you go just yet. You gave him a shy smile. 

“No.” You gently removed yourself from him. “But I will be.” Lying was the last thing you wanted to do to Cassian, but the truth seemed so uncertain, you had no clue if things would ever be okay. Before he could respond you pushed through the entrance, leaving him to stare blankly at you through the closing doors. 

On your way to Rhys’s office you passed by the portraits that hung along the walls, each one painted beautifully by Feyre. But only one seemed to taunt you, mocking each movement you made. You stared at Elain, her large brown eyes staring back as if she was watching you in this very moment. Judging you. She was undeniably beautiful, no wonder Azriel had taken a liking to her. You always wondered what she offered him that you couldn’t, what he preferred in her, maybe it was her innocence, her body that wasn’t marked in scars. He had enough darkness of his own, perhaps he didn’t want the burden of yours.

You tore your eyes away from the painting, unable to bear the painful thoughts much longer. 

When you approached Rhys’s office, the door opened for you, and you found the highlord leaning over his desk, scribbling across multiple pieces of paper. Off to the side, Feyre had an easel set up in front of her. She smiled at you as you sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. 

“How were the camps? Eventful?” Rhys asked, pushing the papers to the side. 

“You could say that.” Crossing your arms, you leaned back into the chair, ready to leave and disappear into your room. “There was this Illyrian, he was older, dark eyes, brown hair, his demeanor was very unnerving. He was curious about the inner circle. And the second I took my eyes away from him, he was gone before I could ask anymore questions.” 

Rhys sighed, running his hands through his hair. Feyre moved over to him, tenderly rubbing his shoulders. You only wished to someday have the understanding they shared. “His name is Madok. He is one of the older Illyrians there, and the only one that never moved up in rank.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I forbade it.” You stared at him, lips slightly parted, waiting for him to continue. “As you know, my brothers and I have put a lot in to change how the Illyrian camps operated, the horrid ways of the past were to be no longer. And as usual most refused, but eventually they slowly came around. But not Madok. I caught him on multiple occasions training men under the old regimen, reprimanding those who refused.” He paused, as if the memory was too much to relive. “I did my best to punish him, but at the time I was new to being highlord and he had more respect in that camp than I did. But after catching him, things fell silent, I assumed he backed down. I now see I was wrong.” 

“So you think he is behind these threats?” You asked, moving to rest your elbows on your legs. “If that’s so, can’t we find him and bring him in?” 

“We haven’t been able to locate him since. But hearing he showed up and approached you, is no mere coincidence. Where was Azriel?” 

You clenched your jaw tightly at the mention of the shadowsinger. “Not around. I left without him that day.” You avoided looking directly at Rhys and Feyre, but you knew they sensed the stiffness in your tone. You felt the claws within your mind, that you had left unguarded. You pushed them out, needing to leave before any more questions could be asked. “Well if there isn’t anything else needed from me, I will retire to my room. Please inform me of any developments.” You stood from your seat motioning to move but Rhys’s voice caused you to halt your movements. 

“Is there something else you would like to share?” Rhys asked, a knowing expression across his face. But his eyes were filled with sympathy. 

Damn daemati. “You’re a nosy ass, you know that?” You sat back down in the chair, Feyre came over to hold your hand, she wiped away the silent tears that fell. You were so tired of crying. “Azriel is my mate.” Why did it feel so wrong to say that word out loud? 

Feyre inhaled sharply, looking back towards her mate. “Does he know?” Rhys questioned.

“I don’t think so.”

“You have to tell him.” Feyre exclaimed and maybe she was right, perhaps you should’ve but it didn’t feel right, you were never the one he chose, if he was happy, then it was not your place to interfere. 

“How? He’s getting married to Elain. To your sister. He never once showed interest in me. What if he rejects the bond. Am I supposed to just live with that pain? Watch as he has a happy life with another female?” Your words quickly turned into sobs, Feyre moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, causing the sobs to increase. You didn’t want to hide this from him, you knew it wasn’t right but that fear consumed you, made you feel pathetic. 

“But still he has a right to know, he believes the cauldron cursed him with no mate, this changes everything.” Feyre added.

“Don’t you think I know that? I know he deserves the truth. But Feyre I am in pain. I cannot face him without feeling my heart breaking into a million pieces. He has had my heart for years and he knows this. But yet he has done nothing.” You inhaled deeply, the tremble following your exhale. “I want to be with him, but I am not his choice. Who am I to get in the way of his life. I can’t take that from him. Maybe the cauldron should have kept it that way, he seemed to be fine finding love on his own.” You stood up once more, freeing yourself from Feyre’s embrace. “I need to think about this. I can’t walk in there and declare he is mine. He is not an object to be claimed.” 

“Tell her.” Feyre spoke up, staring directly at her mate. 

“Tell me what.” 

Rhys stood from behind his desk, moving to stand in front of you. “Elain has informed us that they plan to marry in the next week. They were going to announce it at the party tonight.” 

It felt as though all the air had left your lungs, the numbing pain filling your chest cavity. “Great.” You forced out, turning away from your friends as you held back your emotions. 

“I am so sorry, Y/N.” Feyre whispered back, but you didn’t want her apology. 

“There is nothing to be sorry for.” You sauntered to the door. Avoiding the sympathy you felt that you didn’t deserve. 

“But-” Feyre started.

You looked over your shoulder at the two of them, giving them a pained smile. “I will see you guys at the party.” 

It was a beautiful night for an outside party, they had dedicated a small part of the land next to the river house to host the gathering of tables and decorations. Lights floated above the area, it looked like a scene pulled from a fairytale. There were more people than you would have thought, but that was for the better, it would be easier to hide in the crowd the entire night. But you wouldn’t show weakness, you needed to remain strong, even if your soul felt as though it was falling apart. 

“You look stunning.” Surin spoke up behind you, turning you admired the black dress clothes he had exchanged his training leathers for, he had slicked his hair back, exposing more of his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. You felt his eyes rake over your body, the emerald green dress you had settled on clinging to your skin, it left little to the imagination. 

Surin placed his hands on your hips, placing a small kiss on your exposed shoulder. You quickly convinced Rhys, well more like guilt tripped him into letting Surin be your plus one. “As do you.” You whispered. 

You led Surin into the party, his hand held firmly on to yours, it seemed the both of you were equally nervous. You walked around to greet each and everyone of your friends, and you had yet to run into Azriel, it was probably better that way but that didn’t stop your gaze from searching for him each second that passed. You ran into Helion, who gathered you in his arms, his hands always lingering for far too long. Normally you enjoyed his company and the long talks the two of you conversed in, but tonight you forced a smile to him, and the look he gave you was all knowing. 

You excused yourself before he could say anything about it, and as you walked away Surin quickly pulled you aside. “If there is something bothering you, if anything we can leave, maybe I can show you my superb baking skills.” He whispered in your ear, enticing a laugh from you. And you understood he was only being nice, trying to be helpful when he didn’t truly know what bothered you, he was certainly a good male, Surin had a good heart, he deserved someone amazing. And perhaps you could love him, find happiness with him. Maybe he could be the male that helped you move on, forget all about the bond you shared with Azriel. But you had so much more healing ahead of you. You could never burden Surin with that. “Where did you go right now?” His voice tore you away from your thoughts. 

“What are you talking about?” You blinked a few times at him.

“I can tell you get lost in your thoughts, the way your eyes drift downward. Are you sure you’re doing okay love?”

“Yes.” And the second you spoke, you saw him, standing near the front entrance, his arm was draped around Elain, but his eyes were on you, not focused on the conversation his fiancé was having with the people in front of them. His gaze sent shivers throughout your body but you forced your eyes away from him and back to the male in front of you. You needed a distraction. “Would you like to dance?” 

Surin smiled brightly. “Lead the way.” 

The two of you danced the night away, the alcohol you had consumed boosting your courage and taking away your care for anyone else around you. Surin held you close as he spun you around, and you knew there was a genuine smile across your face. 

The two of you fell into a slow sway. “I never thought I would be here.” Surin whispered as he kissed your hairline. 

“What, attending an inner circle party?” You questioned as your head rested on his chest.

He laughed. “No, dancing here.” He paused and you met his gaze. “With you.” 

“I am certainly enjoying my time with you.” There was no lie in your words, the time spent with Surin greatly bettered your mood. 

“I want to spend more time with you Y/N. I know this is very random, but I think you are a beautiful female with a great heart. And I would be honored to get to know you more.” Surin stared down at you, his cheeks flushed with a light pink, as if it took some courage to admit his feelings to you. 

You stared at him, contemplating whether it was the right choice. But maybe it could be for the best. There was no harm in figuring that out. “I would like that too.” 

Surin smiled widely before bringing his lips to yours, his smile never faded as your lips moved with one another, you closed your eyes, holding Surin close, until you were abruptly pulled away from him.

You opened your eyes to find Azriel standing between the two of you, his shadows encasing him like a fog, the people around you staring at the scene in front of them. Hushed whispers and gasps echoed throughout the air. 

“Azriel!” You heard Elain scream, but Azriel never moved his eyes from you, he was breathing heavy, fists clenched tightly at his side. Surin was pushed onto the ground behind him, Nesta and Cassian trying to help him up. You moved to reach for him but Azriel had grabbed ahold of you before you could, transporting the two of you into the river house. 

“What the fuck Azriel?” You yelled, noticing he put the two of you in his bedroom. “Who gave you the right?” There were no words to describe the anger you felt. 

“Where did you run off to that day Y/N? I was worried sick.” Azriel looked at you, his shadows still frantic, you leaned against the chair within his room, knowing you wouldn’t be able to leave without a conversation. 

“Nowhere in particular. You don’t need to worry about me, maybe you should go check on your party, you left with quite a scene.” You spoke with no emotion. The image of everyone's horrified expressions replaying in your mind. 

“What happened?” He asked, ignoring your words entirely. 

You stared at Azriel, the obvious concern he had for you was prominent in his tone. But you couldn’t tell him the real reason. Not yet. “I had a panic attack.” A statement that wasn’t too far from the truth. 

“Why?” Another question. You sighed, straightening your posture. 

“Why does it matter Az?” 

“Because it does!” He snapped, you were taken aback by the sudden change in his voice. “Because I was worried that something happened to you.” 

“I really should be getting back to Surin.” You moved toward the door, but Azriel stepped in front of it. 

“Please don’t go. Every time I am near you, you disappear. I just want to talk to you. Ever since you got back I have barely gotten a word in.” 

“If you haven’t noticed but I left my date out there. After you rudely interrupted us. Again. Whatever it is you need to talk about can wait.” 

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Azriel lowered his voice, moving a few steps closer. 

“Where the hell is this coming from Az? I don’t understand anything with you anymore.” He didn’t respond, letting the eerie silence take over the room surrounding you. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again.  “What do you want to talk about?” 

“You said you hate that you love me? Did you really mean that?” Azriel questioned, his tone desperate, as if that question had been sitting on his tongue since the last time the two of you truly spoke, but perhaps it had been. 

You gasped softly, the memories haunting your mind. “Yes.” You breathed. Moving further away from him. If he wanted to have this conversation than so be it. If he wanted honesty you would give it to him. “I cannot think without my thoughts being of you. I live each day with the regret of not telling you sooner. So yes I hate that I love you because if I didn’t, if I never had these feelings in the first place, than I wouldn’t have to live my life with this affliction it has caused.” 

“I never wanted this to happen, I never wanted you to leave.” He admitted and you could tell in his voice that it was the truth, but everything still felt off. He still let you leave, he never once asked what was wrong, if he cared, he had an odd way of showing it. 

“You act one way but speak another. How am I supposed to know what you want Azriel?” 

“I want you.” He whispered. 

“What?” You must of been hearing things. The words of his confession weighing heavy on your heart. 

He kept his eyes on you as he moved toward you. “I want you, Y/N.” 

You tried to move away but your back hit a wall. He inched closer to you, his hands finding their way up to your face, resting gently along your jaw. You were stuck between him and the wall, your heart racing as you stared up at him. You placed your hands on his chest, but you didn’t push away, his heart beat rapidly underneath your fingertips, your breaths entwined. 

He moved his forehead to rest against yours, his hazel eyes solely focused on you. “I have always wanted you,” His voice was hoarse and his touch sent shivers throughout your body, the way his chest was firmly pressed against yours. You knew this was wrong. “Tell me to stop.” And as much as you needed to, as much as your mind was screaming to push him away, you couldn’t. Your eyes shut as he closed the remaining distance between you and him, your lips touching ever so slightly. And when you didn’t move away, he wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer, deepening the kiss that should have never happened in the first place. 

But yet, neither of you could pull away. 

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