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pjsfvs · 4 months

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Friends? I Think Not - Choi Yeonjun

PAIRING: bff!yeonjun x female reader

SYNOPSIS: in which yeonjun, your best friend, learns about your rather unsatisfactory sex life. who better than him to show you how it's properly done?

GENRE: smut

AUTH. NOTE: my account is undergoing a huge switch so a lot of things will be changing :33

The room was too hot for your liking.

It was like this every time you came over to Yeonjun’s. You heard somewhere that cats were often fonder of hot temperature than cold. Maybe he really was a cat inside. You could bet your life insurance on that.

You let your eyes wander inside his comfy room. It felt more like home than your room did, somehow. As extra as it is, he hung dim lights from his room walls, insisting “it adds up to the mood”. His room definitely wasn’t that messy for a guy who lives alone, to your surprise. Never too bright, but not too dark either. Chaotic neutral. It fit his personality well.

“You come over pretty much every day, and yet you still stare around quietly as if it's your first time here. Is my room that much of an aesthetic to you?” Yeonjun laughed from beside you. One hand under his head, he found himself unable to divert his attention from you. Not that you minded, of course. You took the eye contact like a challenge, meeting his golden amber eyes with equal amount of... hidden intent. He looked at you as if he wanted something so desperately- like he was barely holding himself back. Soft gaze observing the entirety of your face, he quietly tried to burn every small detail to the back of his mind. As you would do the exact same.

If someone walked in on you two, it would look almost like you two were dating.

“It fits your vibe somehow.” You quietly muttered to answer his last question. As your friend let out a soft giggle at how your eyes were shining in the LED lights, he could’ve sworn he saw the entire milky way through them. To him, moments like these really mattered. Quiet, peaceful, just you two. Like nothing else existed in the wide universe.

Just you two.

“Were you talking about something you wanted to do?” You suddenly remembered about him talking about a game he wanted to play with you. Were Kai’s habits rubbing off on him? You always knew Yeonjun also liked to play games, but he never really asked you to humor him whilst shuffling around with the console.

“Oh yeah, but it’s pretty lame. I just brought it up because we had nothing to do today.”

“But we usually have nothing to do anyways.”

“Ouch, babe.” It took all your muscles tensing to stop yourself from reacting to that nickname. He always knew how to push your buttons to get you flustered. You weren’t going to give in like how he wanted. He could only let out another laugh at your expression.

“What did you have in mind, then?” Yeonjun awkwardly scratched the back of his neck while averting your gaze at your question.

You narrowed your eyes at his reaction. So, he said he wanted to it because “we had nothing to do”, but inside, he really wanted to try this game he was talking about.

“21 questions”. You couldn’t help but groan and roll your eyes.

“Come on Yeonjun, we’re not middle schoolers anymore. You could just ask anything you want to know, and I wouldn’t think anything of it.” Letting out a defeated laugh, Yeonjun directed his honey hazel eyes at you. You were not entirely sure what he was getting at, but his ability to have you remembering all the nights you dreamed of those eyes was something else.

Moments like these reminded you about how you dreamt about him so vividly often times whilst deep in slumber. The unavoidable eye contact briefly exchanged giggles, 4am conversations, slight brushes of Yeonjun's hand on yours- it spoke volumes. Even if both of you practically knew you had feelings for each other, neither had done anything to seal in the deal. For you, it was the commitment. You weren’t sure you would be able to handle him fully. He had been with you for better and for worse, in sickness and health, in ups and downs. Choi Yeonjun was with you through everything. He was someone you just couldn't afford to lose. He was precious, more valuable than anything you ever had in your life. That’s exactly why you were hesitant. If you two broke up, it would cost you too much. You were afraid. Afraid of losing him over something like... love.

If you had to ignore this feeling in your chest to have Yeonjun for your whole life, you would. You would choose him for eternity.

“Is there a specific question you have for me then?” You were forced back to consciousness when Yeonjun suddenly spoke. Momentarily, you were taken aback.

“Your body count?” You narrowed your eyes and voiced out the question that you’ve been curious forever. As far as you knew, he had two serious relationships, and a few on-and-off flings here and there. Judging people by their body count was dumb, and you were aware of that. But it did catch your interest.

“Six.” His piercing gaze never left yours while shifting on his bed to face your side. Fair.

“It’s my turn right? I’ll ask your body count too, then.” See? Any friend would be curious about these. Especially horny young adults like him and you.

“Four.” You said with a long sigh. You knew he would never judge you for it or anything, but it was still nerve wracking. Yeonjun’s expression didn’t change one bit. Instead, he still kept a close look on your face. Even without him voicing it out loud, you knew he was worried if you were insecure about it in any way.

“No, I’m okay Yeonjun. I know you wouldn’t think weirdly of me.” Letting out a laugh to lighten up the mood, you tugged your hair behind your ear.

“Hey, you continue with another question. You should lead these kinds of games, not me.” From the way he immediately lifted his eyebrow, you knew he didn’t mind controlling where this game went. Again, with the unbelievably attractive confidence of his.

“I see you as a 100% bottom, and I know I am right.” You furrowed your eyebrows at how overly sure he sounded.

“Do you have any ounce of dominance in you? Can you top anyone at all?” Damn, were you supposed to answer honestly, or act tough?

“…I’m not sure. I don’t think I do.” He let out a low whistle and a domineering smirk at your statement. Every single thing he does seemed extra attractive today, why was that? You could bet your monthly wage that it was on purpose to get you riled up.

You could almost physically feel Yeonjun’s eyes roaming through your entire body. It was hard to ignore when he was making the atmosphere thick to the point you could practically cut it with a knife. You two weren’t touching each other in any way, but the way he was staring at you felt like he was intentionally trying to get you in the mood. The mood.

“Next question, baby?” You felt your face getting hotter by minute. You couldn’t help it when he practically purred your favorite pet name with that face.

“Could you stop that-”

“But your reaction is too good to pass on.”

“How good would you say you are in bed? You can be honest you know; I wouldn’t judge~” You let out a choked laugh and covered your mouth to prevent laughing in his face. Yeonjun chuckled at your question too, but still kept the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Well, you could see that for yourself, can’t you?” Him licking his lip slightly didn’t go unnoticed. These small sly movements never went unnoticed with both of you. Taking on the silent invitation, you lightly pulled at your shirt collar. He tried hard but gave into temptation in the end. By the way his eyes stayed a few seconds more than appropriate, you knew it was revealing your collar bone right now. Or maybe a bit more.

“I’m not sure, no man has ever satisfied me in bed before you know.” Yeonjun's eyes snapped at the unexpected statement. You could practically hear his inner voice. Four bodies and-

“You mean you’ve never came in bed? Like, never?”

“Never.” Before you could process what was happening, you felt a shift in Yeonjun’s mood. By the time you returned your eyes to his, the only thing you could see in those beautiful hazel eyes were desire. Burning fiery desire, and pure sinful lust. Just with his hot intense gaze, you unknowingly rubbed your thighs together.

“Want me to change that?” Despite his explicit suggestion, he gently put a hand on yours. You knew that if you said no here, he would not pursue anything. He would drop it in a second and continue normally like how you two did until now. Never did you even think Yeonjun would look at you this way. With such tempting desire written all over his eyes.

You knew you shouldn’t give into the voices in your head. If you did this, it would be harder to ignore your feelings. Those feelings that are overwhelming inside of you, it would get harder and harder to manage. You should refuse.

But your body acted otherwise.

“Maybe you should.”

As soon as you muttered the words Yeonjun had been longing to hear, his persona changed in a split second. He flipped you over easily and got on top. As he hungrily looked down at you, he felt a sense of pride he never felt before. He was going to own you. Him. Not anyone else.

He wanted you. You, every bit of you.

Never once in your life have you felt such desire before. Never did you ever want someone as bad as you wanted Yeonjun right now. You hated that it had to be him, but it didn’t matter. Not when you had your hand in his hair, kissing until you two were out of breath. His hands never stopped roaming around your entire body like you were already his property.

“Baby… You have to promise to tell me if you don’t like anything that I do. Anything. Is that understood?” Yeonjun’s honey eyes found yours again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. You nodded and pulled him in again.

As soon as your lips met, a fire ignited. It was like you two were waiting for this very moment for forever. You were finally able to inhale the masculine scent of Yeonjun. Like a mixture of caramel, rosewood and musk, his smell was intoxicating. You couldn’t get enough of him.

You were still unsatisfied by the time he broke away from the kiss. With a low chuckle, he took another look at your current state. Cheeks burning, eyes clouded with nothing but pure desire. Your body practically waiting to be ravaged by him, there was nothing sexier than that in the world.

“Yeonjun…” You let out a quiet whimper when he dived in for another kiss. Slowly, his lips slid all the way to your neck. His hot breath fanning over your skin, you inhaled sharply in order to stabilize your breathing. As Yeonjun’s large hands carefully slipped your smaller ones into his hands, he softly held them.

“Tell me, baby.” You opened your eyes at his request.

“Tell you what?”

“That you want me as much as I do. That I can fuck you the way I’ve always dreamt of.” The vulgar words that came from his mouth sent a violent shudder down your spine. You were not used to dirty talk, but it was something you would gladly get used to if it meant Yeonjun was the one.

“I-I….” You found yourself struggling to follow his commands.

You let out a sharp gasp when Yeonjun grabbed both your wrist by his single hand and pinned it above your head. The forceful slam on the headboard rang in your ears as you found yourself staring at the man with wide eyes. His beautiful eyes looked dangerous. Like a wolf staring at his prey.

“You have nowhere to run now, baby. Follow my orders, and I might just reward you.” Struggling to hold his heavy gaze, you closed your eyes.

“I want you so much, Yeonjun… Fuck me, you can do anything you want with me!” He lets out a low groan at your sweet words, the grip on your wrists tightening. Yeonjun jumped at the opportunity to spread your legs and position himself in between. Immediately, you whimpered when his clothed length rubbed against you.

“Good kitty.” Yeonjun whispers into your ear. He moves more, slowly grinding his hips against your throbbing core. The action had you choking back a needy moan. Even from that, you could tell how delicious his cock would be when you finally had it for yourself. Arousal flaring through your entire body, you struggled to stay still.

“Look at me.” Even if you heard his command, you couldn’t do so immediately. Not when you felt your entire body crumble with the slightest of movements. Not when you knew you were soaking through your panties by now. You felt so overwhelmed with desire for him.

“Fucking look at me when I tell you to, baby.” He spat the venomous words, landing a slap on your inner thigh. You flinched at the unexpected contact and let out a broken moan. You couldn’t help but meet his dangerous gaze.

“That’s right, keep your eyes on me. I want those pretty eyes on me only.” He said whilst grinding even harder against your clothed heat. His dick was so hard, you could practically feel him pulsating. He was rock hard- for you.

You bit your lip to maintain your voice while still holding the eye contact.

Once again, he leaned into your neck. When he placed a gentle kiss, you let out a small whimper. You couldn’t help but find your fingers tangled in his messy black hair all over again. When his hot tongue started traveling over your sensitive neck, you bit your lip even harder. You made a futile attempt to move your arms. Yeonjun was having none of it- the iron grip he held was too strong.

“Stay still, slut.” Your eyes flew open. It was so unexpected, but so delicious to hear from his swollen lips. You couldn’t help but let out breathy moans here and there when he ravaged your neck as much as he could. He didn’t leave a spot open, not an inch where he didn’t kiss, bite or lick. You were sure to have quite a few love bites tomorrow.

He let your wrists go to take off your top and skirt. You faintly remembered wearing tights. When he noticed the thin material, he didn’t give you a chance to answer before instantly ripping it to shreds. Roughly stripping you out of the clothing, he hungrily took in the sight of you in your underwear.

God damn, you were stunning. Your beauty could rival any goddess. And you were all his.

“Mine.” He growled when placed a kiss on your collarbone. He unhooked your bra and threw them across the room. Large rough hands fondling your tits, he continued the trace of love bites downwards. He wanted to mark every inch your body if he could’ve.

As much as he wanted to just destroy you immediately, your pleasure was the priority to him. He had no intentions of rushing anything today. But even so, some things had his patience running out.

You let out a loud gasp when he ripped your beige panties as well. The unexpected gesture sent a burning arousal straight to your core. You were sure to be soaking wet by now, you could even feel it yourself. The sudden exposure to the cold air had you shivering.

You made a futile attempt to close your legs in embarrassment. Contrary to your wishes, Yeonjun’s hands held a firm grip on your thighs to prevent that.

“Don’t you dare hide this pretty cunt from me, baby.” The absolute filth coming from your usual science-nerd best friend had you clenching around nothing down there. The need of having him inside you was growing rapidly each second. You wanted to touch, kiss, and feel him in every way you could.

So you decided to test what he questioned earlier. You flipped over.

Having Yeonjun under you felt like winning a prize, somehow. You felt a sense of absolute pride, and wanted to own him like he was talking about. You wasted no time in connecting your lips to his and proceeded to take off his hoodie. As soon as his top was off, your eyes ran hungrily over his ripped abs, and gosh, he looked so darn beautiful. Drunk off his manly cologne, you wanted to taint him with your scent. If you were animals, you wanted to knot him with your mark. You badly wanted him, in every way possible.

Your hips moved automatically, grinding against him sensually. Growling, Yeonjun’s tongue swirled around yours. The hot open-mouthed kiss took your breath away, your nails sinking into his shoulder. When you finally broke away, you were conflicted on what you should do next.

Yeonjun took the second of hesitation as a chance to get on top again. He flipped over with such ease, as if you were as light as a snowflake.

“When did I give permission to do that, y/n?” Your name sounded dangerous when he growled it like that. Once again, you felt your hot core pulsing and dripping.

“Keep your eyes on me while I eat this pussy out, doll.” His narrow eyes looked even sharper than before when he finally had a proper look at you. The sight of you naked, whimpering his name was something he would never forget.

He secured his grip on your thighs before diving in.

Yeonjun’s hot breath over your soaking cunt, he took a second to spread the lips apart. Almost immediately locating your clitoris, he lightly teased it with his thumb. Satisfied with how your body shook violently, he felt himself get rock hard.

When his hot tongue brushed over your sensitive clit, you could’ve sworn you saw stars. Dark hazel eyes never once leaving your orbs, he carefully observed your reaction to each of his motions. You let out a sharp yelp.

Yeonjun experimentally flicked your bud. Wet muscle attached to your swollen clit; his wolf-like eyes never left your face. Lewd sounds of your juice filling the room- your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Wasting no time in finding your sweet spots, he left you clawing on his bedsheets in no time. He circled his wet tongue teasingly on your bundle of nerves, he lightly flicked it directly. The sensation too mind-blowing, you cried out his name. Yeonjun was relentless in his actions, fingers sinking into your soft thighs as he ate you out like a man starved. He wasn’t afraid to get messy, all he cared about was how your body trembled every time he sucked gently on the sensitive bud. Brutally ravaging your cunt, he sensed that you were nearing your orgasm.

“Y-Yeonjun, I-I’m close!” You cried out, gripping the bedsheets like your life depended on it. Nothing could prepare you for the powerful orgasm that was coming, you could just hope you wouldn’t go mad. It was so close; you were so close-

Until he pulled away.

Eyes wide with tears, you whimpered and stared at Yeonjun pleadingly. Not sure what you could even say, you wiped the tears brimming your eyes.

Before you knew it, he had started again.

Yeonjun had made it his goal to edge you until you lost your mind completely. The sight of you so fucked out, completely succumbed to him- Yeonjun groaned into your cunt at the thought.

He would do it until you felt the knot in your lower regions, threatening to break any second- And then stop. You would chase your high, pressure in your lower stomach building up more and more- until he ripped it away from you. After waiting a few seconds for you to cool down, he continued his assault again. It felt like he’s been going at it for hours.

“J-Jun…Yeonjun. Please, please let me cum..!” You cried weakly, hands finding its way to his messy locks again. Lightly pushing his head further, you wanted him to eat you out like a man starved. Make you cum over and over again.

“Are you sure, baby? I could keep doing this for hours, you taste too sweet to pass on.” You shook your head violently, eyes getting teary again from the brutal orgasm denial. All you wanted was your orgasm that had been ripped away from you too many times.

“Please, please…”

“Beg me more, baby. Call my name like it’s the only word you know.” He went back to eating you out. The sound of his wet muscle connecting with your own fluids was embarrassing, yet oddly intoxicating. It turned you on even more.

“Please let me cum… Yeonjun!” As soon as you choked out the name, Yeonjun’s eyes snapped in your direction.

The endearment brought out his animalistic instincts further. Loud slurping noises fill the room once again, just this time even more furiously. His tongue brushed over your clit over and over again, until you finally felt the knot come undone. You weren’t prepared for it to come so fast, a loud moan being ripped from you. Long awaited orgasm washed over your entire body, you saw pure white. Only, white quickly got painted with scarlet when your desire for the man in front of you awakened once again.

Yeonjun kitten licked your pussy, having a taste of you once more. He was addicted to you.

The sinful sight of him made your cheeks flare, and core clench against nothing. Even if it was immediately after cumming, you felt the growing need to have him inside of you.

“Fuck me, Yeonjun. Fuck me until the only word I know is your name.” You spat out, hopefully to hit a nerve and have him claim you the way you’ve always dreamed of. Your eyes went wide when he slammed his hand on the headboard and glared down at you with furious glint in his eyes.

“Don’t order me around, slut. You better use the right word to address me from now on.” You felt your entire body shudder at his words. He was so naturally dominant, the need to submit completely to him growing.

Yet, you couldn’t help but want to provoke him further.

“Or what, you wouldn’t fuck me? We both know you can’t wait another second until you stuff that thick cock into my- Ah!” Yeonjun pulled you closer to him by roughly pulling you on your thighs.

“You’re playing with fire, cumslut. You better be ready for the big words you uttered just now.” When you saw him finally position himself at your glistening wet folds, you felt your body catch fire. You wanted him so bad it was driving you insane.

You knew you could take whatever Yeonjun could give you. As you directly met his burning gaze, you took in the sight of him smirking darkly at your request.

His length was impressive, to say the least. Both length and width exceeded the standards of average, your mouth watering at sight. You were positive that it would hurt like losing your virginity all over again.

Even so, it was Yeonjun. It was with him, so you could take anything. You wanted everything he could give you.

When you looked into his honey hazel eyes again, all you could see was your own fucked-out expression and pure lust dripping from them. They stared at you with such fiery passion, it was addicting.

“Hang on tight, doll.” Your delicate hands were placed on his wide shoulders as you anxiously awaited him to finally slip it inside you. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead gingerly, which took you by surprise.

As he rubs his thick tip on your entrance, you both sharply inhaled with a breathy moan following afterwards. Yeonjun staring at you with such eyes, it felt amazing to be claimed in such intimacy.

He slowly pushed his length inside while hearing your beautiful voice, mesmerized. The thickness caused a sweet burn inside, making you arch your back. Even if it hurt, you didn’t want him to stop.

“Does it hurt? Are you okay?” Yeonjun was undeniably worried at your slightly grimacing expression. That was not what you wanted to hear.

“Stop being a pussy and fuck me like you promised you would, Yeonjun.” You intentionally used his name to piss him off. You knew you were saying this even when he hadn’t bottomed out yet, but you couldn’t help it. The desire to be ruined by Yeonjun was too overwhelming.

He grunted before pushing in all the way without any warning. You yelped, nails digging into his shoulder. The sweet pain of being stretched out by the man you’re in love with was indescribable. When your tight cunt clenched around him, Yeonjun shuddered.

He didn’t wait a single second to go absolutely wild with you. As if unleashing a beast in slumber, his eyes shone in a new light you had never seen before.

“You’re so fucking tight, this pretty cunt is all for me” He sounded like he was talking to himself more as he dragged himself out to the very tip, then slamming it back in. The sound of skin slapping against each other mixed with the air smelling like sex itself, you lost yourself in the moment. Entire body burning with desire, your mouth hung open. You had absolutely zero control over your voice as you freely let out the embarrassingly loud moans spill. Yeonjun’s eyes darkened at the delicious sound, he landed a sharp slap on your inner thigh again. And again. It was sure to bruise by tomorrow.

Yeonjun kept up a rather fast and rough pace, contrary to what you initially imagined it would be. Because of his naturally teasing and laid-back personality, you figured he would fuck that way too. However, right in this moment, you only felt yourself and him fucking like animals in heat. Your neck sinking into his back, you cried out louder. The only thing keeping you sane in this moment was the feeling of his thick cock slipping in and out of you. He was addicting, and he knew it. The higher he took you, the greedier you became.

You had the nerve to scream when you could barely take the current pace. Yeonjun thrusts became faster and rougher, the iron grip on your hips causing darkening spots that would bruise. You were practically sobbing when he started rubbing circles on your clit alongside. Entire body shaking with each thrust, Yeonjun’s eyes were still observing you to find your g-spot.

You hated and loved how observant he was.

In under a minute, he found your sweet spot inside as well. When he noticed your breath hitching louder and body shudder more violently, he knew he hit the jackpot. As he targeted that specific spot, you felt tears rimming your eyes. The high-pitched moans coming uncontrollably out of your open lips were doing a lot of things to Yeonjun. He fucked you exactly the way he promised.

Landing a loud slap on your inner thigh again, he slipped out.

You almost cried and was prepared to beg for it again Contrary to your initial thought, you found yourself being forcefully flipped over to a new position.

“Face down ass up, baby. Hurry up.” You immediately followed his words and sticked your ass against his length again.

Your mind went blank when he slipped his thick cock again into your deliciously tight walls. The new position bringing out newer, vivid sensations, you moaned needily. Yeonjun’s low voice with his breathy moan was sinful- music to your ears.

“Ngh, jun- feels so good-!” You clawed at the bedsheets, wrinkling it up more. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else other than the sweet sensation of his thick cock filling you to the brim and bringing out moans you didn’t know you could produce. Yeonjun’s mind was also foggy, the feeling of your tight pussy and beautiful voice feeling like a dream.

When he dragged his veiny cock over your sweet spot from behind, you screamed at the feeling. Too embarrassed to hear yourself in such manner, you sunk your head to the pillow below you. Yeonjun immediately noticed you trying to lower your moans.

He landed a sharp spank on your ass this time, leaving a pretty red print behind. You couldn’t help but let your voice out and looked back at him. When he glared at you with those eyes, you knew what he was thinking even without him voicing it out.

“Don’t fucking make me repeat yourself, cumslut. You are mine, let me hear those pretty moans.” You weakly nodded, struggling to stay in position. Every time he slammed into you, you saw red. You had never felt anything like this before.

“I’m going to own this pretty pussy and fill it with my hot cum until you can’t take it anymore.” His dirty talking had you clenching around him immediately. Yeonjun inhaled sharply at the tightening, landing rough spanks here and there. The sweet feeling of being pounded raw filled you with desire, every ounce of you focusing on Yeonjun. Nothing else mattered beside you and him.

“Who is making you moan so loud? Tell me, slut. Who owns this pussy? Who do you belong to? Fuck, such a good girl.” You let out needy moan after moan, the sharp sounds of his hip snapping against yours filled your ears. Yeonjun groaned in an animalistic manner and gripped your hip even tighter with one hand. Slamming forcefully on the headboard, he gripped the wood so tightly it turned white.

“'m a good girl, Yeon-yeonjun owns me-” You were surprised you managed to form a sentence with your mind in such state. The man you’ve harbored feelings for years, pounding you rough and raw from behind. It was still unbelievable. Yet, sparks flying and the addicting feeling of his cock slipping in and out of you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You could focus on absolutely nothing than his fat dick filling you up.

Your orgasm was quickly approaching, sensitivity heightened when Yeonjun pulled you by your hair. Yelping in pain, you felt yourself drool. The fast and rough pace he had never slowed down, not even a second. Every time he slipped out, he explored you inside out and hit you in the spots you never even knew you had. When his large hands wrapped your thin neck, the delicious adrenaline rush flowed through your veins. Slightly struggling to breathe, your orgasm heightened even more. It was so close-

“Y-Yeonjun, I’m-!”

“Let go baby, you’re doing so well. Cum on my cock, baby girl.” Almost immediately, you cried out and let go. The feeling of your crashing orgasm driving you crazy, your entire body trembled with oversensitivity. Yeonjun let out a low grunt next to your ear, finally letting go of your neck. You didn’t even have the chance to breathe properly again before he started the cruel pace again immediately after your second orgasm of the night.

“W-Wait Jun- Nhh ah!” You couldn’t form any word with the current state of mind, not when he was drilling into you like there was no tomorrow. You finally remembered he still hadn’t came yet. Gulping, you tried your best to hold on until he came undone. You didn’t even notice the string of saliva slipping down your chin when you were too busy trying to push your ass more towards him. Yeonjun bit down on your shoulder as he desperately tried to hold in the moans as he himself approached his high.

“Come in me, junie. Fill me up with your cum and make me yours, I want all of you so bad, Yeonjun!” You couldn’t help but speak everything you were feeling out loud. The unexpected honesty ignited a new flame inside Yeonjun, causing him to bite down even harder. You were so irresistible, and all his. The wonderful submission you had in your voice was absolutely beautiful.

“Fuck, such a good girl… All mine… You are mine, (y/n). You hear that…?” You grimaced from the pain, but still let out strained moans at the brutal pace he was still keeping. The inability to reply verbally slipped out of your mind again, all you could feel was the veiny cock rubbing against your cushiony walls. Your tear-stained cheeks rubbing against the bedsheets, you finally felt him release inside you with a single loud moan. When he shoot his hot semen inside you, you greedily tightened around him. The feeling of being filled to the brim with his seed set your cheeks on fire.

You whimpered when he pulled out, few drops of cum slipping out of you.

When he struggled to steady his breathing, you collapsed in his arms. Yeonjun looked at you in such loving gaze, you felt your heart hammer against your chest. He was wonderful, you felt yourself falling deeper in love if that was even possible. Yes, love.

Love?

An anxious feeling made your stomach drop now that you regained all your senses. What did this mean?

When you were too busy contemplating what to say, Yeonjun took the initiative.

“Baby, I know this isn’t exactly the right timing to say it, but…” You immediately realized what Yeonjun was about to say. Before you could realize, you had interrupted his speech.

“W-Wait Yeonjun!” His honey eyes immediately snapped towards you, eyebrows ever so slightly furrowing. He looked scared, suddenly. The fear of you not sharing his feelings arose, Yeonjun uncomfortably flinching.

“What’s wrong…? Did I hurt you? Or-”

“I love you, Yeonjun.” Your sudden confession shot an arrow straight through his heart, you could even feel his excitement and relief through his gaze only. But you knew that if you wanted to keep this relationship stable, you needed to voice out the concerns that kept you from confessing all those years.

“But I’m afraid. So afraid. I am afraid because I love you so much, it drives me mad sometimes. We’ve been through pretty much everything, we know each other so well. And I know that I love you more than anything in this world. But if this relationship fails… and we somehow break up… I am not willing to lose our friendship over something like this, Yeonjun. I’m not sure if we should… do this.” Yeonjun’s eyes glistened sadly at your confession. He wasn’t sure how to react while he was listening. As his warm hands lightly rubbed your thighs to help with the soreness, he couldn’t help but panic over your thoughts.

“Baby, I would love it if you didn’t take our relationship so lightly.” You snapped your eyes at Yeonjun, only to meet the most serious he has ever looked as far as you have known him.

“I love you. And you love me back. We are not going to break up. I am going to make you happy, keep you safe and sound, and marry you. I will have cute children with you, and make sure they live happily too. I can promise myself, my whole self-” he put your hand on his chest, where you could feel his beating heart. “-to you.” His eyes were dead serious. He meant every word he said. The heartfelt words had you tearing up immediately. That’s it.

That’s what you’ve wanted to hear all these years. Those words from your other half.

Putting your hand on his cheek, you smiled at the love of your life. You couldn’t believe that this was reality, that you will spend your whole life with him.

“I love you, my baby.”

“I love you too, so much.”

#txt smut #౨ৎㅤ violet writes #౨ৎㅤ yeonjun #yeonjun #soobin #beomgyu #huening kai #taehyun #tomorrow x together #soobin smut #beomgyu smut #taehyun smut #hueningkai smut #idol smut #idol x female reader #idol x afab!reader #best friend yeonjun

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miraclewoozi · 7 months

Text

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC. notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away. notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago.

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room.

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right.

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones.

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’.

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone.

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name.

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry).

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen.

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts.

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour.

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed?

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him.

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense.

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know.

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans?

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can.

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty.

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it.

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away.

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced.

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there.

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since.

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie.

There is one more.

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly.

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most.

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it.

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits.

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask.

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through.

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake.

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so.

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage.

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest.

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning.

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on.

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth.

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle.

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough.

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe.

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.”

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—” He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go.

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him.

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.”

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different.

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms.

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice.

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants.

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured.

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use.

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again.

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans.

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle.

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat.

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like.

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base.

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him.

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming.

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess.

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop.

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name.

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to.

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.”

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own.

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache.

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum.

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas.

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes.#*#this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3

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bitethedevil · 3 months

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what annoys me the most about "canonically bad in bed", a list

- this is coming from hist LITERAL DILDO, like sorry he is not trying to pleasure his dildo, DO YOU PLEASE YOUR DILDO OR YOURSELF WHEN U GET OFF??? (totally understand haarlep is unhappy #freehaarlep but that is not the topic of this treatise)

- masturbation is always auto-erotic. e.g. almost all pornography directed at straight men shows men glorification of THEIR role in a sex situation, almost all erotica directed at straight women shows THEM being desired, it is always abt u and ur ego

- being "good" or "bad" in bed is a normative bullshit question I am frankly annoyed tav can even ask, because different people like different things, and this game is otherwise a lot better written about sex and gender stuff. also if you play haarlep's game, tav lies there like a starfish doing nothing at all, and haarlep likes it?? we should get rid of normative sexual evaluations of others smh

- there are people who like topping, people who like bottoming, frankly this is kinda toxic homophobic/misogynistic "haha, he was the one *getting* fucked all the time" implying a. the fuck-ee is dominated by the fuck-er and fucking is a violent act of dominance (untrue), and b. bottoms are somehow lesser than tops? so much wrong with this!!

- if I recall correctly haarlep just says raphael was bad in bed and always on bottom, and nothing about how long he lasts, and then the only way tav can use this knowledge to provoke raphael is by ASSUMING he doesn't last for very long, which is like wtf? why would u shame someone with some made-up toxic sex norms/assume they try to last when they masturbate? (even in case haarlep does say raphael cums too soon, shaming people for cumming too quick is such an incredibly mean thing, they can't control it)

- it is kinda sad (and toxic ngl) that raphael cares about haarlep so much and can't deny him anything and is so obsessed with this person who hates him and is dependent on him, giving strong toxic hetero relationship vibes. raphael, u can't have a relationship with someone who u control baby that is just not how it works lil guy, are u too scared u are not good enough for someone who will choose u of their own free will, are u scared they will leave u babygirl

to conclude we know absolutely nothing about raphael's sexual preferences, we just know haarlep is (rightfully) angry at him and being a slave, and raphael has ego issues which like come one we already knew that from day 1

I’m completely with you anon. The only thing I would like to comment on (and this is just my own interpretation) is the fact that Raphael can’t deny Haarlep anything. I don’t think that’s out of any fondness, I completely think its through Haarlep’s magic…which…just kind of makes it worse since Haarlep is there to spy on him for Mephistopheles. You saw how hard it was for Tav to deny him use of their body and mind. I’d imagine it works the same way with Raph, even though he’s a cambion. In my mind, the whole dynamic between Haarlep and Raph is fucked and Raphael is just trying to make the most out of a bad situation (I wrote a whole post on it a little while back, but it is of course just my own interpretation). Which just makes it even WORSE that Tav behaves the way they do about the whole thing. Like damn. I’d be mad as hell too.

I might write a standalone post on the weird discourse on Raphael’s sex-life at some point because it does somewhat fascinate me. Everyone is entitled to their own interpretation of any work, and that is something I hold sacred. What bothers me sometimes is the way that people talk about it. For example, the problematic way of portraying tops/bottoms and the shaming part that you also talked about in this ask.

What bothers me even more is when people feel the need to drag that interpretation into fan-spaces to reduce the character to just those aspects as a “gotcha”. I don’t know if that is just me, but if there’s characters that I don’t like, I don’t even use their tags. I’ve written a couple of hate posts on the Emperor. They might show up under the tag just because Tumblr’s algorithm is weird, but I’ve never tagged them with the character’s name, just in case there are fans who use the tag and find that annoying.

Anyway…Thank you so much for the ask! I completely agree with you.

#ask #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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mythandlaur · 1 year

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i regret to inform you that i was enabled on my last lyokopost and so now you guys can't get rid of me (and also my friend wanted me to post this one)

so, franz hopper being the Weirdest God Damn Teacher that kadic ever saw, to the point of practically becoming an urban legend.

people would say "oh you got one of his classes, good luck" and those who didn't know assumed it was because he was harsh or strict (which he could be--he demanded effort and you did not disrupt his class because somehow he could give off "dad is disappointed in you" AND "you will die in 3 days" energy simultaneously)...but really it's because he was completely insane. you know the videos of those chemistry teachers who keep setting things on fire to prove a point? or that tiktok of the professor who let his students put him in a straightjacket? that.

he never talked about himself and he seemed to embrace being a weird hermit who lived in the woods. he was also known for being a paranoid conspiracy nut--homeschooling his kid because "the establishment cannot be trusted", disliking new technology because of "government surveillance". in his time he outpaced jim in sheer "what the hell does this guy do in his off time" vibes

then, fall 1994, he's replaced by a new teacher without any explanation. kids get nosy. find out he just kinda. disappeared at some point that summer. one brave kid went to check his house and said it looked like a tornado had gone through it. the student body takes this and his conspiracy stuff and silently decides as one "the aliens finally got him"

jim refused to comment, of course. he 100% believes it was the aliens though

delmas thought the students were being ridiculous but the more he looked into it the worse everything got because the guy really did just VANISH OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH without a TRACE and what's more it seems like there never WAS a franz hopper in the first place FRANZ HOPPER DOES NOT EXIST so he can't exactly say for sure that they're wrong

#code lyoko #i just like the idea of outsider perspectives on all the weirdness #and i mean he DID vanish off the face of the earth #that is in fact very much what he did

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snickerdoodlles · 8 months

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Macau&Chay you got mail AU? Please tell us more!

lil late to answering but!! YES!! time for some good ol' AU nostalgia, which is really funny to me because what I know about that movie I learned exclusively through this being a really popular fandom AU like 10 years ago or whatever. anywho!!! the fic:

Macau and Chay know each other vaguely as "that guy (derogatory) from my school"

they don't actually dislike each other. there's no reason for it. this isn't even a rivalry, just that somehow, somewhere in their years of overlapping schooling, they rubbed some shoulders somewhere and went "ugh nope, wrong vibes."

'fuktong1' and 'free waifuuu'* meet on videogame chat boards. it started as a need for an extra player to round out a team, but they like each other best out of the group and soon start coordinating to play together regularly.

its a solid friendship!! neither has any particular desire to bring their friendship out of the videogame/chatroom context yet, but Macau does once send Chay a bundle of games for his old system that Chay wouldn't have been able to afford otherwise.

this changes after Yok's bar.

Chay is…not so fond of shooting games now. being slapped in the face with his lack of awareness is a large part of it, but learning Porsche was literally in a shoot-out while he was tucked away ignorant and oblivious is similarly bad for him. it's a rough time to be Chay basically :(

luckily for him, fuktong1 has never been overly fond of shooting games and has so many recommendations that are much more palatable for Chay's current tastes. they play together more and more, and naturally chat more and more, and overall get much closer.

Macau and Chay's relationship also change. for the worse specifically.

Chay's really going through shit right now -- loansharks and low grade mafia thugs have been beating down his door all his life, and now Porsche is running a mafia branch. (the branch that specifically deals with shaking down people and cleaning up the main family's mess, no less.) he's isolated in the family compound and cut off from everything he's known. somehow his mother's back from the dead (kind of). he's still barely seeing Porsche. Kim's giving him mixed messages. he's really fucking pissed at everything, and Vegas (Macau's brother) was also responsible for (or at least tied to) his kidnapping, second attempted kidnapping, and Porsche's new injuries. Chay has zero sympathy to spare for ANY mafia-related people, and Macau is part of mafia-related people.

Macau is ALSO going through shit right now -- Vegas was shot up and is now bedridden in the hospital. the father who never cared for them is dead. the uncle who cared even less took away their men and home to give to Porsche. the same uncle may or may not being looking after him and Vegas to either kill or use them later. Macau, who was also iced out of the mafia business by a protective brother, has absolutely no idea what's happening as everything spirals out of control. his only support is his (bedridden!) brother's maybe boyfriend, who was previously only known to Macau as his eldest cousin's head bodyguard. he probably has finals to deal with too. it's a rough fucking time to be Macau, ex-fucking-cuse him if he doesn't give a shit about Chay suddenly getting what was previously his and Vegas's wealth and security.

someone more well versed in videogames will have to give me suggestions for what games they play, idk enough about those because ultimately this whole situation is just to force Chay and Macau to see each other in a new light. because they don't have any reason to like each other in or after canon! Vegas and Porsche have their weird friend-enemy dance, because they're bros and like each other, and Porsche can't hold a grudge to save his life and Vegas's relationships are so fucked up that anyone who genuinely likes him bypasses any other complications, but their relationship doesn't translate to Macau or Chay. at all. Macau and Chay both have only ever had their older brother as their support their entire lives and absolutely hold grudges against intruders (for themselves and their brothers).

Chay figures out who fuktong1 is first. (how? no clue! maybe they planned to meet up and it went bust, maybe one of Macau's usernames gives a clue? idk.) initially, Chay's outraged, because he keeps dealing with his life suddenly going "and it's mafia!" for fucking everything, and Chay's so, so angry about it all. but he also can't help but put the puzzle pieces together. suddenly realizing his friend fuktong1 has also had to dance around the mafia issues every time they talk and the general recontextualizing of everything his friend ever told him with what Chay now knows about the Theerapanyakul family takes almost all the heat out of Chay's anger towards everything and all he can feel is sad. sad about the circumstances forced on him and Porsche and Macau (and Kim and Khun and Kinn and even Vegas), sad about their loneliness, sad about the trials and burdens the mafia (Korn, Korn and Gun) have put all of them through. it's…a lot to deal with.

(whether this realization happens before his reconciliation with Kim and facilitates it, or happens after it and he has Kim's shoulder to cry on is tbd. depends on which one is the more emotional spin cycle really, it could go either way.)

on Macau's end, he has a brief spike of anxiety and self-pity when his friend free waifuuu abruptly disappeared on him, but he doesn't think anything more on it after he pops up again (he doesn't). their friendship grows deeper as they both open up to each other about more of their personal lives and they're both very sympathetic to each other without ever falling into pity. idk how Macau and Chay's relationship progresses after Chay's discovery or how the 'free waifuuu is Chay' revelation comes about yet, except that there are a lot of tears, a lot of yelling, and ultimately they become proper friends both on and off the chat boards, weird mafia family relationships and that time Chay called Macau 'daddy' for a week after he gave him a bunch of turnips in Animal Crossing aside.

*usernames are a work-in-progress, as usernames are NOT my specialty, esp not in a different language. Macau is playing with 'fuk'--he actually learned 'fuck' from Vegas before he learned the thai 'fuk' (gourd), and he's been having fun with it since. Chay's is a play off the phrase "sleep with me, free wifi" which i am told is slang more or less equivalent to 'netflix and chill' (i think? someone might be playing with me, idk). anyways, Chay greets Macau with "hey pumpkin~" when he's feeling flirty. they have so many husband/wife in-jokes.

#ask game: fics im not writing #kinnporsche #i have so many opinions and feelings about macau & chay's relationship #they get all the complications vegas and porsche decide to ignore and that's SO much fun for me #username suggestions are also welcome so long as they meet two criteria: zero reference to their actual names because internet safety #and dirty joke references because they are ridiculous teenagers #this is very important to me

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ticklystuff · 3 months

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:O for the team ask game! Kafka, Black Swan, Ruan Mei, and Luocha (I love women (I love twinks (I love women & twinks))) I can't tell if my team is good or bad honestly :'D

ask game is closed!

hello~ you are so valid lmao luocha is one of the girlies (also yes your team is quite good from a gameplay perspective)

also sorry i don't think i totally understand black swan's character yet so i might be a little inaccurate when it comes to her!

who’s the most ticklish character

i think it'd be ruan mei! she doesn't really mind, though, and i think she'd be interested in why she's so ticklish compared to her teammates or why people laugh when tickled. yeah tbh i think she'd find tickling fascinating because what is the evolutionary advantage of being born with a trait that can be so debilitating

who’s the character that most people would assume isn't ticklish, but actually is

black swan because she literally does not have a body lmao BUT you can still tickle her in dreams and such! it surprised her too when she first became a memokeeper and felt the light breeze tingle against her back in a dream like bruh what was even the point of giving up your body if you can still feel stuff asdlkfjs

who’s the character that everyone gangs up on and tickles

oh it's absolutely luocha because he's the only guy on the team and you cannot convince me that kafka doesn't get the others to tickle him to tears. she tells him that it could be ten times worse but they don't want to ruin his pretty face~ also they'd love to tease him to get him to reveal his true identity like "are u really a merchant? what's in that coffin of yours hm?"

who’s the character that somehow knows everyone else’s tickle spots and reveals them to others

oh it is absolutely black swan because she collects memories due to her memokeeper job, so she knows where everyone has been tickled and which spots are the best. she wouldn't go around spreading them so blatantly though but might subtly drop a spot like "ah luocha, i came across the cutest memory of your friends tickling you~ i think they were counting your ribs? absolutely heartwarming." also i've mentioned this before but ruan mei would be good at guessing just based on the vibes people give off

who's the character with one specific tickle spot that only one other person knows about

ok idk if you remember but during the recent story quest but there was a shot of black swan's back turned to the camera and there was a good view of the beauty mark on her back which i'm pretty sure they wanted to show off for whatever reason but ya kafka saw the beauty mark too and was like "you got a bit of dirt there, pretty lady" and gave her a poke and when black swan jumped she was just like "whoops~"

who’s the most likely to win gang tickle wars

i'm going to assume these tickle wars occur in a dream bc well black swan does not have a body and she has the ability to choose who gets to see her so you probably can't tickle her irl and that's just not fair lol but even in a dream it's still black swan! like have you seen her burst?? she summons those giant arms and they have claws too!! and she can make people forget things for a moment, so they're like what were we doing again?? but ya black swan is the tickle monster if black swan chooses to play fair, then it's kafka because kafka comes from a place where the people do not feel fear (her backstory makes her sound like some eldritch horror) so she will do absolutely anything to win. also she still has the ability to influence people's minds and can use that to turn the tables when things do start getting bad like "listen, you will tickle luocha"

which character has a kink for tickling

i feel like the easy answer here is kafka so maybe her? BUT i just have this feeling in my soul that would luocha would have a tickle kink too idkidk he's giving me "magikarp in the streets, gyarados in the sheets" vibes, like i just feel that he's into some shit more out there than just tickling, but also tickling is one of his kinks

which character didn’t even know they were ticklish until another character tickled them

kafka because no one has ever tried to tickle her before because of how turly frightening she is but black swan does not fear her and since she does not have any memories of kafka being tickled, she had to just create some for herself

which two characters have tickle fights all the time

i think ruan mei would have this one-sided interest in tickling black swan because how does being a memokeeper work? does she feel tickles the same way humans do? will she get tired when tickled for long periods of time or is her energy endless? these are all questions that black swan has answered for her already but ruan mei will still go out of her to try and tickle her from time to time i think kafka would also bully luocha because only one of them can be aloof and mysterious. she later finds out that luocha is actually a pretty skilled tickler too when he wants to be and she has to put a lot more effort into these things than initially expected

#kafka #black swan #luocha #ruan mei #honkai star rail #tickling

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vala-dreams · 2 years

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Guys I've experienced another ✨thought✨

I've been thinking about my siren oracle percy hc and I just got major feral percy vibes for some reason??

Anyway I've decided to add another hc on now.

yk how fish migrate from place to place?

(Can you see where I'm going with this?)

So what if percy migrates too?

Maybe while he still didn't know he was a demigod, during a particular season he would always have this itchy uncomfortable feeling under his skin and this strange longing to go somewhere but he didn't know where so he was just stuck with this uncomfortable feeling and insatiable wanderlust that frustrated him to no end.

And then the events of the first book happen and he goes on the quest and he gets the lighting bolt back and the olympus scene happens and yadda yadda yadda. but at the end of the scene when Poseidon and percy talk Percy just randomly blurts out that he feels uncomfy as hecc in this particular season (I haven't decided which season yet) cause he gets nervous and his mouth works faster than his brain. And then Poseidon just smiles and tells him to get in the sea when that happens and there's that.

So when the time finally rolls around, Percy hesitates a bit but ends up jumping into the sea anyway because of how crappy he felt AND HOLY HERA THE WATER FEELS DIVINE (heh divine) and his instincts just take over and he just kicks off and swims far away and it's the best thing he's ever felt in his life.

And during his first migration thing he grows more feral. Inhuman even. His teeth turn into wickedly shap fangs (curved backwards for holding struggling fish/prey), his nails transform into claws, his legs meld into a tail with deadly serrated fins, and his instincts grow even wilder. When the migration period (which I imagine is like 2-3 moths) comes to a close and he swims home he still has all those feral traits.

And now CHB has to deal with this terrifying siren feral Percy which is somehow even worse than the random siren songs that are sometimes prophecies thing.

Until Sally furiously prays to Poseidon and threatens to castrate him if he doesn't give Percy his legs and logical reasoning back. So now Percy can switch between having leg mode and tail mode and can think a little less feral now. (He's still feral tho)

Imagine situations like this tho:

Paul, blissfully unaware to the existence of Greek gods: * runs into the house panicked* SALLY PERCY JUST JUMPED INTO THE SEA AND I CAN'T FIND HIM HE'S GONE

Sally, reading a book completely nonchalantly: o yea he does that, dont worry he'll be back in 3 months tops

Paul:????????????

-------------------------------------------------

Nico: trying to squirm out of siren percys hold, "Bitch let me out I will cancel your subscription to life"

Percy: * all logical sense gone* tiny baby, very small, does not know anything. I must protecc.

Nico: BITCH?????

Thalia: is he wrong tho

-------------------------------------------------

(For context in my feral percy hc, Percy was raised by Sally like in the book, but being a son of Poseidon, he got a lot of wild instincts and powers which really started showing up after the migration transformation thing)

#percy jackson headcannon #percy jackson #pjo memes #pjo stuff #pjo headcanon #percy has siren powers #Siren! Percy #eldritch #eldritch percy #feral percy #Poseidon #sally jackson #Paul #nico di angelo #pjo thalia

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oldmemoria · 9 months

Text

i have a lot of unorganized miguel headcanons that float around my brain at times but since i usually think of them at night and forget about them the next morning im just going to continuously update this post probably? anyway here are the ones that i do remember

i will either leave this in my drafts and update it when i want to or ill just edit/reblog with new stuff idk

edit after i stopped typing:

ok its time

fuck you

posts

identity headcanons first, because idk getting those out of the way feel free to get pissed off about these ill just block you 💖

trans man. he/him pronouns. probbably doesnt care if you use gender neutral terms for him because like... why would he, he has a multiverse to stare at

asexual, can't really figure out of i see him as being aromantic as well, i personally just think he's too busy to think about it atm but i dont think hes incapable of it. maybe arospec, like demiro or greyro or smth idk, i just know this mf is asexual.

he is autistic (and probably undiagnosed?) i will die on this hill as if i was a warrior cat defending the sunningrocks i will commit an oakheart fight me on this and i will throw rocks at you and then promptly get crushed by rocks as well (is that warrior cats spoilers um oops sorry)

now to the rest- that i remember- i have not read the comics yet so if some of these are like.. actually canon lmk because that would be really funny

this one might be a hot take but he does not hate miles. he wants to look out for him and definitely either currently regrets or is going to regret what happened in that chase scene. i genuinely doubt he hates any of the spider-gang hes just very, very worried about the multiverse. in his head thats the only way. (i am hoping and pleading that miguel and miles make up somehow, maybe miles doesnt forgive miguel and that totally understandable and would make sense but pLEASE writers i would die if you kept them as being rivals i genuinely would)

he hates Audrey Hepburn, fangoria, harry houdini, AND croquet. he CAN swim, he CAN dance, and he DOES know Karate. he still wont make it though. sorry man.

since hes from the future i dont think he'd be terribly confused by current slang/terms, hed more look at it like we see terms from like... the 80-90s or anything before that as "oh wow people used to say that? huh. interesting."

im going back on a headcanon ive had since i saw the movie im SoRRYYY but he cant curse. from what ive seen from the comics he uses replacements like "shock" and "bithead", thats it. maybe he says fuck on accident or in spanish (he technically kind of does depending on how you see "Ay Coño" being said but thats beside the point).

probably a blue eyes hater idk he just gives me the vibe of saying "jesus christ your eyes are way too blue, get contacts please im begging you stop looking at me" which is probably why him and gwen have so much beef.

i dont give a shit about what the movie says his fangs are not retractable fuck you. (he still has crooked teeth though i will never forget about those <3 )

autism be damned my guy can work a grill 🔥🔥🔥🔥

a lot of people cant really tell if hes pissed or not by his tone sometimes. is this projection? yeah, next question.

he hardly ever sleeps but when he does its like hes dead (at least when its dead quiet, which again, isnt often so he hardly ever gets a good nights sleep). you'd have to use a fucking blowtorch to the face to wake him up.

i also see him as not only having hypersensitive vision but also having elevated senses period. hearing, smell, touch, etc. probably the main reason he sits in the dark with no other noise.

branching off of that he frequently gets migraines of things get to stressful or too loud or if anything is very off about his schedule.

arachnophobe. ha.

cat person.

cat person as in he likes cats not like hes a catboy.. i shouldnt specify that actually that just makes it worse but i will anyway because tumblr hellsite will be tumblr hellsite

he partially likes lego peter because his daughter really liked lego.

ok but like think about it he'd probably be really good at taking legos apart with those claws. like imagine. it'd be nothing for him.

hasnt spoken to gabriel in years. he cant bring himself to reach out and when gabriel does he just doesnt have the energy to try and respond. he has no idea how to, especially now.

this is very specific but he stims a lot with his claws. like extend and retract over and over absentmindedly (mainly because thats what i'd do if i had claws imagine how fun that would be)

he usually bottles up all the emotions that he has, including anger. kind of explains why he lost it in the chase scene in my head because he reached a boiling point. he hates talking to people about his problems.

empanadas are his safe food, also theyre just easy to eat when your mouth is a little funky (i would know i have some fucked up braces theyre great for that 10/10), its mostly just easier on his fangs.

definitely horrible at the whole self are thing. he just forgets, all the time. would forget to breathe if it wasnt involuntary

if you say anything he doesnt particularly like (eg "hey bro are you okay do you wanna talk") he'll just stare at you with his rat eyes like 👁️👁️ until you stopped idk what im saying.

he is a bit touch starved, depending on his mood he'll let people touch him in a friendly (emphasis on friendly. friendly friendly friendly dont take it any other way :/) way.

OH I almost forgot about this one: he hisses. some spiders hiss. so does he. vampire furry energy

he also gets pissed when people call him a vampire so uh... im counting my days oops.

will go out and sit in the rain. (wait would it still rain in the future? is the climate still fucked in his timeline or nah)

like "ah, its water time" and goes out to sit like this:

Man if only there was a rain filter

that is all i have for now maybe if something else comes up ill reblog with new stuff >:)

#across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spider verse #headcanons #his specific tag that i have for him might be.........#errrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmm #critter moment #eureka!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#CRITTER MOMENT YES!!#ok you can post this now ash no more stalling

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mel-the-fangirl · 2 years

Text

The Witch & The Freak

Eddie Munson x Reader

Words: 5,132 (oh, boy...)

My first Eddie fic! I really could not help but stan this guy because, let's admit it, he's pretty adorable. I know we're well into November but I'm still feeling the Halloween vibes so this might get just a smidge creepy. It's long as hell, there's a little slice-of-life action, I just went with it but I hope you all enjoy!

Please like, reblog, or leave me a comment if you liked it!

------------------------------------

October 31, 1986

Somewhere in Salt Lake City, USA

Eddie Munson tightened his grip on the steering wheel, paying no mind as his knuckles turned white. His mind was obviously somewhere else, trying his hardest not to dwell on the fact that he was so totally lost. He had been driving on the same stretch of road for about half an hour now but not a single car had passed by him.

“Fuckin’ Henderson.” Eddie hissed, cursing his friend for getting him in this situation

Since when was he the babysitter anyway? Wasn’t that Harrington’s job? What was he doing wasting his Halloween playing chauffeur to Dustin Henderson when he could have been playing a killer Halloween setlist at the Hideout. He told Steve just as much but when he heard that Dustin didn’t have a ride back to Hawkins since his car was in the shop, Eddie was pretty much out the door without a second thought.

He was all huffy and puffy about it, sure. But if he was being honest, he just really needed a distraction from this weird feeling he was having that something was about to happen. He had no idea if it was something bad like a zombie ambushing him and eating his brains, or something good like finally getting off this damn road and back to civilisation.

Wherever this place was, it was giving him major heebie-jeebies. Probably because it was too goddamn quiet. Like the air was sucked out of the whole area.

“Radio!” he exclaimed, a light bulb finally going off in his head. He fumbled with the dials until the static finally turned into Steve Perry’s “Foolish Heart”

Eddie looked around with an eyebrow quirked up like he was expecting the gang to somehow pop up in the backseat. Once the coast was clear, he sang softly at first, bobbing his head along.

“I need a love that's strong, I'm so tired of being alone..”

As the song reached its peak, Eddie Munson, Eddie the Freak, Eddie the big bad guitarist of Corroded Coffin, belted out with all the passion he had,

“Foolish heart, hear me calling. Stop before you start falling!” he swayed side to side in time with the melody

What a sight to behold. A tried and true metalhead singing his little heart out to a mushy soft rock ballad. As far as everyone he knew was concerned, if it wasn’t metal, Eddie wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. But honestly? He loved all types of music, he was just sure if people knew “Candle in the Wind” made him tear up, all the mean and scary street cred he had would fly out the window.

The music began to fade out and so did the tension in Eddie’s shoulders. He rolled them out, exhaling in relief.

“Nothing to be afraid of, Munson.” he chuckled to himself, “You’ve been through worse than a quiet roadtrip, haven’t ya?”

Instinctively, his free hand wandered to his stomach, tracing the length of marred skin. A constant reminder that no girl would want to see him shirtless ever again.

Just like that, his mind replayed the events of the last few months. Dustin shattering his leg carrying his dead weight back to the portal in the Upside Down, nearly losing Max forever, his month-long stay at the hospital, his very public trial and acquittal not long after, finally graduating.

He never was able to give Principal Higgins that one finger salute, not to his face at least but he did flip him one behind his back, the whole crew hooting and cheering for him from the stands.

Getting wrapped up in all those memories, Eddie didn’t even notice that “Total Eclipse of the Heart” started playing. It was another one of his guilty pleasure power ballads, only to be listened to using headphones, with his door and window firmly closed.

Turn around,

Every now and then I get a little bit lonely

And you're never coming 'round

Turn around…

What?

Eddie eyed his stereo warily as the lyric repeated over and over, he kept his hand on one of the dials but no matter how much he turned it, the station never changed, Bonnie Tyler’s voice just kept getting lower and lower until it was almost demonic.

TURN AROUND!

The volume maxed out of nowhere. Static and feedback mixing together at varying pitches, Hell's choir harmonising. Every hair on Eddie’s body stood on end and his hands started to shake. The calm he had built within himself shattering into pieces.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” he tried his hardest through his trembling hands to turn off the damn thing but to no avail

He pushed his foot into the gas, speeding along the deserted road, hoping it was just a really fucked up signal patch.

The distance did manage to get rid of the demon choir on his stereo but the damn thing still wouldn't turn off. The static, the fucking static was making him lose his mind. The screeching sound filled the entirety of the van and was close to crawling into his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Be cool, Munson. Be fucking cool.” he breathed in and out steadily

Just as he was starting to have some semblance of calm, his engine started sputtering until gradually and agonisingly slowly, the van halted to a complete stop. Eddie could have sworn someone had it out for him. He got out of the van on shaky legs, his Reeboks crunching on the gravel as he lifted the hood of the van up.

A flashlight would've been handy. The streetlights did nothing to help him see any of the wiring. He couldn’t help but slam the hood down in frustration, the harsh sound echoing off into the night. Of course, something like this was happening to him. Noticing what was across the empty street only confirmed his beliefs that he was probably the unluckiest bastard to walk the earth.

A fucking cemetery of all the fucking places to be. At night. On Halloween. Smack dab in the middle of nowhere, USA.

“Just my fucking luck.” he exhaled, placing one hand flat on the slightly heated hood and the other on his chest, Eddie screwed his eyes shut and tipped his head forward, curly locks falling all around him

How did it get like this?

There he was, quietly making his way to his teenage friend who needed a ride home, a chivalrous act. Next thing he knows, he's a sitting duck right in the middle of the road. Easy prey for whoever wanted a piece of him. Of course, they'd have to go around the parts that haven't already been picked at.

He snorted at that.

Nothing like a bit of self-deprecating humour to get him up and running again. He raised his head and finally got his thoughts in order.

Obviously, the van was busted and he was stuck. That much was clear. According to his watch, it was thirty past one in the morning. He still had hours to go until dawn so he should probably get some rest. The rollercoaster of emotions he'd just been through was enough to drain whatever energy he had left.

"And so, it was decided," Eddie narrated in his Dungeon Master voice, climbing back in the van.

"Eddie the Banished would spend the night in his faithful but useless van, clutching in his grasp, the 2x4 he could never be bothered to throw away. Guess it came in handy in the end."

What was also handy were the blankets and pillows he stored in the back. He'd have to thank El for coming up with the idea after he took the gang out to a drive-in and literally everyone complained about how uncomfortable it was.

Oddly enough though? Eddie was comfortable. Having the van break down right across the street from a cemetery and that freaky thing with the stereo aside, being nestled in those blankets in the darkness of his van was actually kind of cozy. Hugging the 2x4 like a teddy bear, he drifted off to sleep, hoping he wouldn't have to use it.

…

A dull thud roused Eddie from his sleep. He shifted around in his blankets, nearly taking his eye out with the edge of the 2x4 he forgot he was cradling in his arms.

He groaned, cracking his knuckles above his head. He almost forgot where he was.

The realisation was like a cold bucket of water down his shirt. He let his guard down for God knows how long. What could be lurking out there? What if he was surrounded by enemies already? He shot up, crawling to the passenger’s side window. Eddie muttered his own version of a prayer under his breath and very cautiously took a look across the road.

Everything was pitch black beyond the rusty cemetery gates, save for a few lit candles. He could make out the flickering flames in the distance but other than that, not a fucking thing. Even the goddamn lamps perched on the gate didn’t seem to be working.

Eddie craned his neck to get a view farther along the moss covered stone wall that bordered the property. Nothing but rustling bushes and darkness.

Wait.

Rustling… Bushes?

Thankfully, his eyes were starting to adjust. He kept his gaze glued to one spot, hoping to catch whatever critter was in those bushes. Suddenly, a flashlight poked through the leaves. It circled the ground until it abruptly shone in the direction of the van. Eddie dove out of sight, immediately regretting the move. He was sure his cover was blown.

Army crawling back under his blankets, Eddie tried his best to peep out of the van's rear windows this time. The light in the bushes was gone and there wasn't anyone in sight.

He sighed in relief. Safe for now but his mind was running wild with theories of who could be in the bushes

A squatter, maybe?

Someone trying to set up camp for the night?

This wasn't exactly a camper's hot spot but who knows, right? Nine times out of ten, Eddie's morbid curiosity led him to places he couldn't even imagine.

Out of the quiet, he heard it. A little muffled from his spot inside the van but it was there all the same.

"GOD DAMN IT!" the voice from outside yelled

Eddie froze, brown eyes bigger than even thought possible.

Not much had changed outside. The light was still gone, the bush was still moving. No other cars had passed by. Though that little expletive was confirmation that there was a person in the bushes.

What he was going to do with that information was still up for debate.

He could just leave it alone… Really though, what good was it going to get him if he left the safety of his van?

But then again, what if they needed help? No one in their right mind would be poking around cemetery bushes if they weren’t in some form of distress. If there was something that Eddie learned from what he went through, it was never to run away.

He was still fucking scared though, don’t get him wrong. But he wasn’t going anywhere.

With a deep exhale, he stepped out of the van, trusty 2x4 in hand.

His pulse thumped uncomfortably in his ears, like at any time his eardrums would burst. Every step he took to close the distance between him and the cemetery gate, he felt like he was being watched by unseen eyes.

“Christ.” he muttered, trying not to look straight at the candle-speckled darkness that lay ahead

His footsteps went unheard as his mystery lurker continued to… Well, lurk in the bushes, moving to and fro along a particular stretch of grass.

“Uh, hello? Do you need any help?” his voice wavered ever so slightly at the end of his sentence

The rustling stopped. For Eddie, it seemed like everything stopped in those few seconds where he thought he was going to die for real this time.

That was until, you finally poked your head out.

Then everything stopped for Eddie a second time.

You had to be a ghost or something right? Because there was no way. NO WAY. Anyone alive could look as ethereal and unreal as you. Sure, there were leaves stuck in your hair and dirt streaked on your cheek but to Eddie that just made you look even more heart-stopping.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, rising to your feet and dusting yourself off as best you could

Taking stock of your sudden companion, you mentally checked off a list.

Long shaggy hair, check. The devil on his shirt, check. And finally, big brown eyes, check. Though your powers of divination were improving, they still didn't work well enough to find the damn crystal you dropped.

“Hi, um. I’m sure this looks a little strange,” you gestured to the bushes you’ve been searching through for the past fifteen minutes or so.

“But I, well I dropped something around here and I’m having a real tough time finding it as you can see.” you chuckled breathily, patting at your jeans, knees covered in grass stains

“Oh, uh,” Eddie stepped towards you, feeling a weird sort of gravitational pull. “When’d you lose it? The caretakers might’ve done away with it, y’know.”

“That’s not it.” you waved your hand dismissively, returning your gaze to the grass beneath your sneakered feet. “I lost it just now when I fell off that damn gate.”

Something was totally off, Eddie could feel it. For starters, he kept involuntarily walking towards you, completely disregarding the bush right in front of him. He couldn’t even see his Reeboks underneath the leaves anymore. Second, his eyes were practically glued to the ground. Every time he'd try to raise his head, it was like there was a hand pushing it back down again, forcing him to search for something but he had no idea what.

“Just uh,” he walked along the line of bushes just as you did, squinting at the ground. “Just now, huh? What’re you even doing here at this time? It’s uh, it isn’t safe.”

He crouched down and began poking at the bushes with his 2x4. The intent look on his face made you giggle, he was an easy one to influence.

“While I appreciate the concern, I can take care of myself just fine, thank you. Now, be a doll and look over there..”

Like a little marionette, Eddie made his way over to the bush you were pointing at. He couldn’t even stop to question why the hell he was just blindly following your orders, his brain was covered in a thick fog. His one-track mind concerned only with finding what you had lost.

“It would be really helpful if I knew what I was looking for.” he whispered to himself.

Before he could even blink, you were only two steps away from him. How the hell did you do that?

"You'll know it when you see it." you said, watching him closely

The close proximity was making Eddie's head spin, if he was being honest. The scent of warm cinnamon sugar mixed with the dewy grass you fell in wafted off you and invaded his senses. Not even the pricier stuff in his stash could make him feel this way.

This had to stop. Somehow his hijacked brain connected the dots, whatever effect you had on him would only stop if he found what you were looking for. He took the flashlight from your hand and got on his knees.

"That's a bit much, isn't it?" you remarked, tilting your head to see how he was doing

"You're.. You're doing something to me." Eddie struggled to get the words out. His lips were barely moving, like they’d been glued together and it was just starting to dry

"Huh. Intuitive." you thought. Perhaps shutting him up was a bit much but you were exhausted and really wanted to get home.

As he swung the flashlight to search somewhere else, a glint partially obscured by a fallen leaf caught Eddie's eye. He bent down and flicked the leaf out of the way, revealing a shiny, palm sized pink stone of some sort. As he picked it up, it felt warm to the touch.

“Rose quartz.” you filled him in, closing your hand over his

Of course Eddie had no fucking idea what that was but you had his full attention, you were only about a hair’s breadth away from each other now.

“Eddie Munson.” you smiled slowly, noticing how your heart was beating a little too fast

At the mention of his name, he could feel the haze that had settled in his mind starting to lift. He nodded, still not able to produce any words with your hand still in his. You weren’t sure if he could feel it, but the rose quartz began to vibrate under your entwined hands.

What that meant, you weren’t entirely sure.

In one fluid movement, you managed to take your crystal out of his hand and step away.

You cleared your throat and dropped your crystal into your bag with the others, "The love crystal."

“What?” Eddie’s lips were finally functioning again but he felt out of breath

“The one you picked up. It’s also called the love crystal.” you clarified, kicking at some pebbles with the tip of your shoe

“Crystal…” he shook his head, looking at you apprehensively. “What the hell did you just do to me back there? Are you some kind of witch or something?"

"If I’m being totally honest, I find that term offensive and I don’t like being called that. It’s so goddamn archaic…"

"Wait, hold on-"

"...I mean, what is this? The 17th century? You gonna report me to the Witchmaster General too?"

"SHUT UP!" Eddie yelled, his voice echoing all throughout the empty street

His sudden outburst caused you to let go of your bag of crystals, the lot of them clattering to the ground. You tsk-ed in annoyance before dropping to your knees to round them all up again.

"Was just trying to make conversation. Didn't have to fucking yell at me." you muttered, occasionally shooting nasty looks at him

He joined you on the ground, hurriedly picking up your crystals. "Shit, um. Look, I'm sorry. I just.. Well, how the hell do I even put this. You're-You're a witch? Like an actual real life witch? Is that how you knew my name?"

"No, you idiot. I watched your trial a few months back. I bet everyone in America knows your fucking name.”

“Oh.”

“But I am a witch.”

“Oh.”

The thing about him is his wit was always quicker than his common sense. The quip was already tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Hey, I thought you didn’t like being called a witch?”

“I don’t.” you almost growled at him

Oh, man, if looks could kill… There would definitely be a grave at that cemetery with Eddie’s name right on it but his brain-to-mouth filter wasn’t going to start working just because of that.

“Alright, alright.” he put his hands up in mock defence, “You got a name or should I just call you Sabrina?”

The silence stretched long between you, both of you sizing the other up. Then, much to Eddie’s relief, you burst out in laughter. He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant for him but the sound made him smile anyway.

“Oh, you’re funny,” you held out a small bag towards him, “Drop my stuff in here please.”

“Not gonna lie, I was a hundred percent expecting you to sock me in the jaw.” he chuckled, doing as he was told. The sound of the crystals knocking together was kind of soothing for him.

“I really wanted to.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.”

“I’m glad too.”

You two stood there for a beat, saying nothing, just awkward half-smiles and heads filled with scrambled thoughts. Most of them consisted of wondering how someone could be this pretty.

“That must be some name if you’re gonna keep me waiting this long.” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, a playful twinkle in his brown eyes

Heat rose to your cheeks in an instant. “It’s Y/N. You can call me Y/N.”

Call it sleep deprivation or being under the light of the moon too much but the sound of your name automatically plastered a smile onto his face. God, if the kids could see him now acting all cheesy. He’d never hear the end of it.

“Well, I guess I don’t need to tell you my name.”

“Nope.” you shook your head

Warmth flooded your body as you kept your gaze on his smiling brown eyes. Oh, he was cute.

“Sooo,” he began, swaying while placing his hands behind his back

You in turn, crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow, the move made him want you to step on him. He didn’t even care that you only knew his name because of all the murders it was associated with.

“Sooo?”

He scoffed, throwing his arms up, “Come on! You’re really not going to tell me what you were doing? In the bushes? At this time of night?”

The rise in his pitch was definitely starting to sound like a whine, a small smirk played on your lips.

"I thought you got the gist already." you teased, gently shaking your bag of crystals

Would you believe that he actually pouted? You were struggling to keep your eyes off his plump pink lips.

“Well, would you be kind enough to enlighten me?” he whined some more, completely melting away your defences

“Since you asked so nicely,” you smiled, reaching into your little bag

The first crystal you held up to the moonlight was the exact one you'd hoped for, Tiger's Eye. It glowed in different shades of brown. Almost the exact same shade as Eddie's eyes. You made eye contact with him and winked which made him blush in return.

"It’s nothing complicated," you began, "People use crystals for a lot of different things so just like a human would, they get worn out."

"So, the moonlight.. Recharges them or something?" Eddie ventured a guess

"Exactly! Very good, Eddie. We might make a warlock of you yet."

Ah, praise. A surefire way to get on his good side. Not that you weren't already.

"And the cemetery?" he asked, already wondering if ghosts had something to do with it. Could you see ghosts too? Would you be offended if he asked?

“I was coming from a party. I cut through the cemetery and figured I’d do a cleansing since the moon was full.” you shrugged nonchalantly

The simplicity of it all made Eddie laugh out loud, soon enough you found yourself laughing along too.

“Maybe I should have said something cooler, like oh the spirits of the dead fuel the crystals with more energy.”

He wiped at his eyes, feeling his cheeks hurt from smiling too much. “No, no. I, uh, I appreciate your honesty.”

“And you?” you nodded to his van across the street, “Camping?”

“Ah, something like that, madame,” he replied in a mock posh accent, “I’m afraid my faithful steed has let me down tonight.”

You looked at the van pensively while Eddie admired the slopes and angles of your face like a dorky schoolkid looking at his first crush.

“Mind if I take a look?”

“Huh?” he blushed hard, hoping you didn’t notice him drooling all over you. “Oh, uh, yeah. You know about cars? Or is there like, a crystal for car trouble?”

It was a completely innocent question, his tone filled with curiosity. Absolutely nothing like the other mocking questions and judgmental looks you usually got when people found out your beliefs. You couldn’t help but walk a little closer to Eddie’s side as you made your way over to the van.

“Not car trouble, but there is one to ward off car accidents and stuff like that.” you answered, lifting up the hood and producing a mini flashlight from your back pocket

Eddie tried, like he really tried not to be a creep but you were just so goddamn pretty. The shadows that continually moved across your face as you moved your flashlight across the engine reminded him of this nightlight he had that spun around, sending stars all over his dark room. But tonight instead of stars, he had you and he preferred that more.

“Eddie, could you try starting it up, please?” your brows knitted together as you shut the hood

He could’ve lassoed the damn moon if you asked.

To his surprise, the van roared to life with the radio blasting the chorus of “I Wanna Know What Love Is” deep into the night. Eddie scrambled to get it under control while you doubled over in laughter.

“I didn’t peg you as the power ballad type, Eddie.” you walked over to the driver’s side and perched your arms on the lowered window

“Well, I didn’t peg you as the mechanic type, Y/N.” he countered, cheeks burning but he still found it in himself to bring his face closer to yours

He could pinpoint the exact second your pupils dilated and Eddie figured it was as good a time as ever to finally do what he'd been thinking about all night since seeing you.

"Thank god for that fucking rose quartz." Eddie mumbled before softly pressing his lips to yours

It was almost as if your lips were covered in a million tiny live wires, sending your entire body alight with sensation. The air was positively snap-crackle-and popping all around you, all that was missing were the actual sparks.

Eddie pulled away for a second to jump out of the van and take you in his arms, he smelled of leather, soap, and a hint of smoke. It was almost second nature to you, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting him kiss you once again.

Despite your disdain for the term, you were a witch. That much was true. You had abilities, you studied, and you practised. But this right here, kissing Eddie. That was a whole other sort of magic all together.

Once you found it in yourselves to pull away, breathing hard and smiling like fools, you hopped in the van.

“What did you do to get her running again?” Eddie asked, making sure you fastened your seatbelt

“Nothing. There wasn’t even anything wrong.”

He decided to leave it at that. Eddie just pecked you on the cheek before pulling back into the road with you guiding him on the right track to the Bingham House which surprisingly, you didn't live far from.

As the sky changed from midnight blue to a purple-dusted orange, you and Eddie watched and talked as the sun began to peek just over the horizon. He told you about his life in Hawkins and about what really happened, the whole demobats took a pound of flesh from him truth, not the censored bullcrap the authorities told him to stick with. He didn't doubt it when you said you believed him.

You told him all about your abilities, about all the people who just didn't understand, how you really did make him do your bidding back there and how you foresaw that he'd be coming for you. It all flowed out, the easiest conversation either of you had in your lives.

"Quite a pair we are, huh?" he nudged you affectionately, an easy smile on his face

You nodded, reaching over to lace your fingers through his, "The witch and the freak."

"The witch and the freak." he agreed, bring your hand to his lips

…

"So, just take the next left then straight on till morning, Eddie." you kissed him one last time before hopping out of the van

"Aw, c'mon, Y/N." he whined and pouted

Him whining and pouting was quickly becoming one of your weaknesses.

"It's just one more block, why won't you come with me? Had enough of me already?"

"Because, Eddie! My mom's going to kill me if she catches me sneaking in. Don't worry, we'll be seeing each other again soon."

Eddie knew the finality in your voice wasn't for nothing, you've probably already seen how this was going to go but still, he loved pushing your buttons.

He scooted to the passenger's seat, "And how are you so sure about that, hm?" he puckered his lips at you

With a chuckle, you planted a big 'ol smooch on his waiting lips. Already visualising what the next time you'd see each other would be like.

"Because I'm sure! Now go! The Binghams usually serve a feast for breakfast. I hope you like kids!" you waved him off, already knowing that you didn't need to consult your cards to see if you were right or not.

You blew him a kiss which he playfully stuffed in the pocket of his jean jacket before slipping quietly into your house.

"Oh, what a night," Eddie shamelessly sang along to Frankie Valli, shimmying his hips as much as he could while seated

"What a lady, what a nigh-Oh shit!" he slammed his foot on the brakes, tires squealing against the pavement

He forgot to ask for your phone number.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Eddie hissed, bonking his head on the wheel

Just as he was about to turn back around, he noticed something on the passenger's seat that definitely wasn't there five seconds ago.

A crystal that Eddie recognised was the colour of your eyes and a note.

"When did she have the time to write this?" he wondered

It seemed like you already knew he was going to think that.

"I'm a witch, remember?" the note began, making Eddie shake his head in awe

You're under strict rules to keep this crystal with you at all times, Eddie. It will protect you and hopefully make you think of me. We will be seeing each other again very soon.

Love, Y/N.

You also had the foresight to scrawl your number on the back along with,

Can't believe you forgot to ask!! >:(

Which made Eddie Munson giggle. Thank God no one was around to witness it or else he'd never live it down.

Having everything he needed, Eddie started up the radio again and went on his way to the Bingham's.

Those fingers in my hair

That sly come-hither stare

That strips my conscience bare

It's witchcraft.

"You got that right, Frank," Eddie placed a kiss on the crystal you left him, "You got that right."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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