#like as long as their not putting that stuff in minor spaces or doing anything illegal they're chill af in my book 😭

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode III

Calm After the Storm

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, heat cycle, extreme knotting, marking, scenting, territorial/possessive behaviour, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, belly bulge, actual breeding, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: 6.3k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Happy halloween guys! I know I literally fell off the face of the earth and I will make another post to address that. But I know I haven’t participated for @pandoraslxna ‘s kinktober event (I’m so sorry bby) but if I could only participate for one of the days it would be today for sure. So I definitely wanted to get this out before midnight. It’s not purely a/b/o but honestly entails all the aspects of it. I think we can all definitely tell who’s the alpha and omega here (Ralak is alpha material hands down, ofc). I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I apologize for such a wait <3 Also I feel like I’m a bit rusty, so apologies for any typos, errors, or just plain suckish writing.

ALSO a big happy birthday to my babe @neteyamsoare <3 love you and hope it was a good one!!

Synopsis: Your heat starts to subside, but Ralak’s rut is only getting stronger. What could possibly go wrong?

<- Previous -> Next

——

Only an hour has passed before you feel your not-so-gentle giant stirring behind you, waking you from your sleep. You’d both been on your sides for too long now and everywhere seems to ache. You whine when you feel his hips shift against you, tugging at the immense pressure between your hips. The bulge protruding from your lower abdomen has barely gone down and you feel almost as full as you did when he initially emptied his load inside you.

Silken strands of his hair fall onto your prickled skin as he props himself up on his elbow from behind you, perching his chin on your throbbing shoulder. He inhales deeply – longingly. His hot breath gently blows against your neck just as you feel his arm snake under your leg and yank it back in one rough tug.

“Ralak.” His name falls from your lips through a nearly inaudible croak. “‘m so full.” You barely mumble out, rolling your head to the side. Yet, the flame within you is without a doubt reigniting with a vengeance.

And he can sense it.

Simply by the way you push back into him, making that bulge in your belly protrude a little more. His large hand resting on your stomach can indubitably feel it. And the smile that it puts on his face is almost baleful, bearing his lengthy canines that yearn to sink deep into you once more. “Sorry, tìyawn [love].”

He just can’t help it.

No matter how hard he tried. The desire—no, the need—to fuck into you and claim you as his time and time again is… irrepressible. In this moment, nothing else felt better than your little, used cunt hugging his cock so tightly that it almost hurts. He yearns to fill you over and over. Again and again until your womb is overflowing with his seed. The mere thought has his balls pulling tight to his body, firming up by the second all just to flood your womb again.

“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak growls into your neck, sliding his hand down to your inner thigh. “I will try to be–” He groans slowly, his pointer finger now burrowing itself between your tied pelvises, “–flrr [gentle].”

The final accented word comes out roughly, and if it weren’t for his finger slipping past his knot and into your cunt, you would’ve probably heard it clearly. You yelp out when he traces his finger around his knot, stretching your already taut skin, attempting to work a little space to allow his bulge to slip out.

It's all consuming and you’re simply too overwhelmed with his size that you fail to realise how your body is synced with his and bearing down to push him out. All whilst he’s struggling to fight the snap of hips to avoid hurting you. But the tugging is nothing like you’ve felt before adn you can finally understand why he was so insistent in the first place.

ut there was no getting out of this now, not that you even wanted to.

“It–it’s…” You brace yourself by grabbing onto his forearm, “...t-too big.”

“Ngaytxoa [sorry]” He huffs out his fourth apology, losing himself once again as his hips finally jerk back out of his control.

Pop.

His knot slips out of you with such force that the squelch it makes is as loud as your whimper. It’s so wet and slippery that his cock follows behind his knot, sliding out of you effortlessly. He’s more than half-hard yet so heavy and hung it rests close to your knee. Then you feel it. His cum dribbling down your thigh, still warm and sticky as if he just filled you up seconds ago.

It’s such a conflicting feeling — a mixture of relief and pent up frustration. Your heat is still in full bloom, despite it being so quenched until you’re almost nauseated. It’s as if you were two pieces perfectly linked together, allowing nature to run its course with no second thought. He grunts when he feels the crisp night air against his groin, his cock now springing up to its full length in just a few seconds.

He, too, feels some sort of feverish way now. Itching to be back inside your warmth, enveloped by your gummy, slimy walls. He opts to pepper wet kisses along your neck, and then up to your jaw, lingering there as he tries to distract himself from the ache to shove it back inside you.

Until it becomes too much.

“Tanhì.” He moans into your ear, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open as his tongue trails the skin on the back of your neck. “Need you.” It’s his way of begging for permission. Permission to slam his cock back inside you and hammer into you until the annoying itch deep in his core goes away again. You were the only one to make it go away. To stop the hurt. “Please.” He whines out a plea of desperation, now gritting his teeth from the way his stomach is tensing. “Now.”

But that last plea wasn’t much of a question, no. It was more of a demand. A way of saying, ‘give it to me, or I’ll take you on my own terms’.

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath, sliding your free hand down your side to hook it under your leg. You pull it back and reposition your hips to give him access to your cunt. “P-Put it in, ‘Lak.”

Ralak’s hips begin to stutter — the leaking, mushroomy tip of his cock now repeatedly prodding between your puffed up folds. His breath turns raggedy as he tries to guide himself back inside you handsfree. Your slick is overflowing, making it even more difficult for him to align himself with your entrance. The frustration brewing within him bubbles over when his cockhead glides past your swollen clit instead of sinking in your cunt. So he pulls back in one swift move and —

Thrust.

Your body jolts from how quickly he slams every inch of his cock inside you, forcing you split-open. Ralak huffs a shaky sigh of relief, his breathing growing a little steadier now that he’s deep inside his mate. Meanwhile, your mouth hangs agape yet no sound falls from your lips. Your eyes well up with tears and your ears lay flat against your skull. Your body is in complete submission to the beast dominating it and there’s nothing else you can do but give in to the pleasure.

“Your scent.” He whispers open-mouthed, tips of his canines grazing the nape of your neck. “It is driving me crazy.” You release the breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. You didn’t even know what to say. Not like you could really say much right now anyways. You’re too lost in the fog of your own heat. For once, Ralak is doing most of the talking. “It makes me…” He snaps his hips back, only leaving half of his length inside you. “...lose myself completely.”

A deep roll of his hips.

A lewd moan dripping off your lips. 

“How do you do that?” He huffs, pressing his teeth against your neck. You don’t answer yet again. You just can’t find the words. Not right now. Not when he’s so deep inside you. “Hm?” A deep growl vibrates up his throat, his teeth just barely piercing the first layer of your silken skin.

“I—” You’re cut off by your own squeal when you feel the sting of his bite. Your breath catches in your throat and he immediately unlatches, lapping at the nicked skin to soothe it. “Sorry.” He whispers breathlessly, planting a quick kiss on each of your marks. “Sorry. Sorry.” A few more apologies flow from his mouth, as if he were drunk off of too much fermented fruit. Somewhat lucid but still so spaced. “I cannot —ngh— help myself.”

Thrust.

“‘M sorry.”

He knows he went a little too deep just now. But you feel so fucking good around his cock.

Chomp.

Another mark. Right on the bend of your shoulder, next to your first.

“Ngaytxoa [I’m sorry]”

A small cry from your quivering lips.

“S-Stop. No more apologies. I am yours to do what you p-please with.” You finally get out in one, weary breath.

Ralak’s languid, deep thrusts are laced with desperation. And with each stroke they become harsher and harsher. Faster and faster. Now he’s got your full permission he lets go once more, falling into the thick fog of his rut.

Within seconds his cock is pumping in and out of you, his half-deflated knot continuously prodding and poking at your entrance. The tip of his cock drags against your walls, putting an immense pressure right on your sweet spot. Yet still, sounds barely fall from your flushed lips. You’re too out of it. Too focused on the raw sensations rippling through you all at once. His overwhelming pheromones. His marking. His relentless pounding.

Rather, hot tears well over your eyes and stream down your face.

He can’t stop slamming himself inside you. He doesn’t want it to stop. It’s absolute rapture and he’s unapologetically drowning in it.

“Tanhì. Tanhì.” He groans needily. “y/n.”

He only says your name when he’s serious about something.

And hearing it drip from his tongue onto the nape of your neck has your hairs standing high and your clit throbbing.

“Eywa. Yes, ‘lak? T-Tell me what you need.” You blubber out, tightening your grip on his forearm.

“Haa — spread yourself.” He demands, prompting you to tuck your leg back as far as you can. His pace quickens, hips striking you with a sinful vengeance. But no matter how hard he fucks you, or how deep he buries himself inside you — its just not enough. He needs to be closer. To be deeper. To really be inside you. To knot you.

“More.” He grunts, slowing his thrusts into rocking, grinding himself inside your slippery, tight cunt.

You go to tug at your leg and meet nothing but resistance. “I-I’m trying.” You can feel it now. Perhaps it’s the bond or maybe it’s the way his knot is working you open but he’s growing more and more frustrated by the thrust.

“Mmmh. Wider.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” You’re quick to answer, feeling nothing but pressure from the way he’s trying to shove more of himself inside you.

“Agh.” He growls in frustration, pulling out of you and grabbing you by the ankle to flip you onto your back.

Ralak situates himself between your legs without hesitation and pushes them so far back your knees graze against the tips of your ears. You can barely breathe in this position and are having a hard time seeing anything else but his raging cock at your entrance. You can feel the burn in your thighs from how far back he’s shoving your knees but that sting is masked by the pleasure of him plunging himself back into your pussy.

The moan that rips from your lips is obscene and like no other. The crown of his cock is drilling itself directly into your sweet spot, causing it to swell with unadulterated pleasure. And each time he pulls out just to sink it back inside you he winds you in the process – making you sputter out absolute nonsense. Even he knows you're close, despite being in the thick of his rut.

But frankly, he doesn't care.

All he’s concerned about is satisfying his own urges.

“Not enough.” He grits through his teeth as his eyes shift to an even deeper shade of mauve. “‘ts not enough.” He pants, voice laced with something of worry. Panic that this feeling won’t go away. It makes you panic too, wondering if you’re doing enough for him. If he’s going to take even more from you. If you can manage it.

“You’re okay. Do what you need.” You try to reassure him, grasping your feet and holding them back–opening yourself up even more. But fuck, that only made things worst for you.

And by worst, you mean better. It feels like you’ll burst any second now, especially with how much pressure is on your bladder. “Fu-ck me. God, fuck–ahaa-fuck me.”

His brows bunch together as he peers down at you, beads of sweat rolling off his face to drip onto your chest. His jaw is so tense it looks as if it may fracture. He’s grunting with every push and huffing with every pull.

“Right there! Fuck. I’m close. I’m so fucking close. I-I need you to cum i-inside me. Oh—please ‘lak. Please!” Your cries are choked and muffled, breaths short and raggedy. The heat pooling in your core is unbearable. It needs out. Now.

Ralak swallows. Hard. Through his own haze he can see that you’re in need too. He shuffles closer to you, tucking his feet under him to assume a squatting position. Now he’s all but on top of you, folding you into a merciless mating press. This one shift in position has you coming undone on his cock, coating it in your thick slick as you sob from the white hot pleasure. The force of your climax has you pushing him out and only has him drilling himself further inside you. If it’s not for the way your pussy walls tighten around him surely his knot would have popped inside you by now.

He’s still fucking into you, right through your orgasm and towards his.

“Say what you need.” He panics through a tightened jaw, grinding himself inside you – pushing his knot against the resistance.

You know what he’s actually asking from you. To say something. Anything to tip him over the edge. To rid him of this maddening itch.

“Breed me.” You whisper, locking eyes with him. You watch as his pupils blow into thin rings and then constrict into nothing but dots. You try to swallow what spit you could, attempting to clear your throat. “Breed me. Please.”

“Then take it.” He lets loose a sinister growl, putting all his weight into his final push. For the first time, you feel his knot pop inside you, veiny and as thick as can be. You let out a high-pitched whimper, and feel your teeth begin to chatter. That doesn’t make him ease up, though. He continues to grind himself inside you until you feel the familiar, warm sensation of his sticky seed spraying inside you – filling your womb to the brim. His cock throbs wildly, in perfect synchrony with his own heartbeat, and soon yours too as the bond equilibrates your souls once more.

Strangely, you thought you’d be sore and overstimulated by now, but your body has never felt better. You’re full and content and more than satiated. Ralak heaves a sigh — one of pure relief. It’s glued to his face. All panic washes away and he’s feeling more at peace the longer he remains inside you. He’s rigid, firmly holding his position on top of you — ensuring he empties every single drop inside you. Yet, his heavy lidded eyes begin to close.

“I can’t breathe.” You mumble, snapping him out of his tranquil trance. His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth pulls into a little smirk. He exhales a breathy chuckle and carefully manoeuvres you both into a more comfortable position. He settles himself on his back and supports your body whilst positioning you on top of him.

“Better?” Ralak husks, drawing circles into your back with the tip of his finger.

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to full capacity and then slowly release it. “Much.”

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]” His accented words slur together as he dozes off.

“Nga yawne lu oer, Ralak [I love you].”

——

Ralak woke repeatedly throughout the night for his fill. If it wasn’t him, it was you. Waking up in a clammy state, shaking and nuzzling into his chest from your heat. You honestly thought that the more time passed — the more rounds you went — the more he would calm down.

But, you thought wrong.

He’d start by leaving tender kisses wherever he could, whispering he’d do his best to be as gentle as he can be. Then, he’d slip a finger inside you, stretching you out in attempts to pull his knot out without hurting you. But it would always sting, even just a little bit. After that he’d beg. Pleading with you to let him back in, and apologize right after plunging inside you regardless of your answer—which was always yes.

At this point your own foggy haze would take over. Perhaps it was your body’s way of coping with the overstimulation, but you pined for every single second of it. Sometimes it would last for a few minutes. Where he’d be quick to fold you in two and growl in the shell of your ear, ‘you’re mine, haah — fuck, take me’. 

Sometimes it was closer to an hour. Where you’d both be so tired you’d take breaks, lazily taking turns fucking each other, telling him to ‘put it back in’ whenever he’d slip out. But one thing remained the same every time. You’d sob when you’d cum and then beg him to breed you. And he would, without a doubt, breed you.

Mercilessly.

And with each breeding, he’d lose himself a little deeper. Knotting you over and over. Marking you repeatedly until your body’s littered with bites. Until you were so fucked out you’d lost the feeling in your legs. Until your throat was so dry you could barely speak. Until you needed a break.

——

“Wait.” You crawl towards the bedside table with wobbly knees. “Just need some water, Lak.”

Ralak pounces on you, knocking you onto your stomach and pressing himself against you. You extend an arm out, fingers splayed out and shaking from you trying to reach the cup of water Ka’ani left there more than a day ago. Ralak grabs your hips and hoists you up onto your knees and elbows, and mounts you from behind.

“Water. Water, Lak.” You beg with a hoarse cry, only for him to line the crown of his cock up with your sopping cunt. He growls next to your ear as he stretches over you and reaches for the cup of water, filling his cheeks and putting it back down within a couple seconds. With a quick grip of your jaw, he turns your head and meets his lips with yours.

Before you can process what’s going on you’re gulping down water as fast as you can. And when he pulls away, you’re yet again met with the hazy eyes of his rut. That’s when it dawns on you that whilst your heat is coming to an end, his rut is only getting stronger.

Rather than looking away, he locks his gaze onto you, just so he can watch your face screw as he slams his cock inside of you in one, hard thrust. It works a sudden, breathy moan from your mouth, eyebrows pinching together from the stretch. He holds his position, basking in the warmth and tightness of your cunt as his breath goes shaky.

“Wait.” You mumble weakly, shoving a hand behind you to push against his lower stomach. “Please.”

For the first time, you were telling him to stop.

His jawbone flutters as his eyes search yours. Restraint plasters to his face, and the only audible thing is his heavy breathing. He nods. Just once. A firm and intentional nod. He swallows the residual water left in his mouth and tenderly pulls out of you. You hear the thud of his footsteps quiet down as he nears the marui door, and then the splash of the water when he dives into the rough sea.

It’s pouring outside.

Storming, actually. Thundering and lightning. Yet he feels this is the only way he’d be able to resist the urge to storm back in and fuck you. But the instinct to protect his mate, even if it’s from himself, is more than enough to give him the willpower to walk away.

You take this moment to just breathe, turning your head to face the plush bed beneath you as you gather your thoughts. Did he just show that much restraint? Enough to walk away from a female na’vi during her heat cycle… all whilst in the height of his own rut cycle?

“Lekye’ung [insane]” You mutter, using your trembling hand to grab and bring the cup to your lips. They, too, are sore and chapped. Having gone so many hours without any food or water, you knock it back, shaking the cup to get out every drop. Finished already? You think to yourself, looking inside the cup with hazed vision, confirming it’s indeed empty.

After setting it back down onto the table, you slump back into the bedhead, relaxing your body. You’re sore. Actually, sore is an understatement. Every single muscle and fiber in your body burns—and that isn’t entirely due to your heat either now that it’s finally subsiding. Perhaps you should be taking this time to have a look at your… condition, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

So you give in, sinking further and further into the bed as you doze off.

—

A few hours go by and Ralak returns with a net of fish thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of fresh water perched on his hip. He carefully sets down the bucket and rests the net next to the fire pit. He’s cautious not to wake you, nor come too close to you. Ralak ignites the fire and fans the flame. As quietly as possible, he prepares and cooks the fish, setting them aside to wrap in the leaves of a spartan tree.

Since coming to Awa’atltu, one of your biggest adjustments—despite the obvious—has been your change in diet. Fish weren’t uncommon back home, but they certainly weren’t the main source of food. You prefer the other foods here, your favourite being what you call ‘inland boar’, which is an animal that resembles what your father calls a ‘pig’ from his star.

But not even that, (boar) could smell better than this (fish).

The aroma alone rouses you from your sleep.

Your eyes open to a dark room and a glowing fire pit. The fire is out but the wood remains hot, shifting among different shades of orange and red. Ralak sits beside it, with his back leaning against the support beam of the pod. His arms are crossed over his chest and his knees are slightly bent. It’s hard to see more than just his silhouette with the lack of moonlight.

“That smells good.” You rasp. Ralak’s eyes fly open to reveal a familiar shade of deep blue. Like the sea. They glow and flicker before you, examining you now that you’re sitting up out of bed.

Crack.

A bolt of lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the room. For a moment, you were able to see every single bike mark, scratch and bruise you’ve given him. It also reveals that he’s shaking. Trembling from being wet and cold, or possibly from the strain he was putting himself through from just being in the same room as you.

Ralak moves quickly, shuffling to his feet and going right for the leaf that holds a few sloppily rolled fish. He brings it to you, setting it slowly on your lap, being overly cautious not to touch you. Grabbing your cup on the table, he dunks it in the bucket and sets it beside you.

“Eat.” He whispers, backing away to sit next to the pit. You watch as he slides down the beam and into a sitting position, and then glance down at your food. Saliva pools in your mouth from the aroma wafting up your nose.

You’re hungry.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, hastily stuffing an entire roll into your mouth.

You moan as you chew, nodding your head from how good it tastes. It’s hard to swallow, given that you bit off more than you could chew—literally—but when it finally goesdown you feel your stomach grumble for more. Ralak watches you intently. A wince screwing his face with every swallow he witnesses. And when you finish, you chug down your water and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Another crack of lightning strikes, and then a low, lengthy rumble of thunder follows.

“That was… one of the best you’ve made, lak.” You say with a wobbly smile, slowly getting on your feet to wash your hands. The bucket is nearby your mate, who is still fixed in position. Although he remains unmoving, his eyes follow your every move. You shake your hands to dry them and shuffle over to Ralak and sit next to him.

“so… how do you feel?” You ask quietly, raising your hand to check if he’s feverish. He turns his head before your hand can make contact with his skin and his gaze locks onto the charred wood in the fire pit. 

“Fine.” Ralak mutters.

Eyebrows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try and look him in the eye. Your brows relax when you come to the realisation that he’s already taken care of himself. And only Eywa knows how many times.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I would have—”

“Ma’ muntxate [my wife]”He croaks, swiftly turning his head to look directly into your eyes. “Oeru txoa livu [please forgive me].”

“Txoa? [forgive?] What for, ma’ muntxatan? [husband]”

“I have… neglected you.” He’s struggling to speak. You can hear it in the strain of his voice.

Regardless, none of his words are really making any sense to you right now. How has he been neglectful? Despite the circumstances, it’s obvious he’s been trying his hardest to be good to you. Somehow, even conjuring up the strength to pull out of you and walk away.

“Ralak. You have not. Please, I—”

“Look at yourself.” He snaps, taking a quick glance at your body before dropping his head in his hands.

Crack.

Conveniently, another strike of lightning and boom of thunder, revealing exactly what he’s talking about. For a few seconds, you’re met with the sight of your battered body—scabbed and bruised. You lift your head, staring at his shameful demeanour. But the more you stare, the more you see your own reflection.

“And have you looked at yourself?” Your words bounce as you shuffle closer to him. “I bet you can’t even feel all that damage I’ve done to you.” You coo, using your thumb to gently graze past an easy six-inch scratch mark on his bicep. “I haven’t been so gentle with you either.”

Ralak shakes his head, allowing it to sink further into his hands. “You were starved.” He mumbles into the palms of his hands.

You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin in the dip between them. Your eyes wander over to the fire pit, catching sight of the outline of a few fish rolls.

Has he really punished himself by not eating?

“Have you eaten?” You ask, resting a gentle hand on his back.

“No need.”

“You should, you know. Don’t want you starving on me, lak.” You say lightheartedly, allowing your hand to slide up his spine and to the base of his skull.

He lets loose a quiet groan, fighting the twitch of his ears. Your fingers smooth over the base of his kuru, playing with the braid encasing that covers it. “If you do that—”

“Do what?” You whisper coyly, quickly running your hand down the length of his kuru.

His spine immediately straightens, his head lifting from his hands. The tips of your fingers gently make their way to his tendrils, carefully teasing them as they try to wrap around your digits. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, allowing a shiver to run through him. It feels like your fingers were inside his skull, tickling his brain in the best way possible. 

Reaching for your kuru with your free hand, you bring it up and over your shoulder. You lean into Ralak, your lips only inches away from his. You pull away your fingers to grip and pull his queue forth. The loss of contact has him sitting up straight, opening his eyes to look at you.

“I will not let you suffer alone.” You whisper, lessening the distance between the two of you, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. He stills himself, even limiting his own breath so as not to make any sudden moves. “Okay?”

You wait for just a moment. For him to say something. To move away. But he remains stock-still, waiting for you to initiate this. You smile, your top teeth briefly rubbing against this lower lip, and lock your lips with his. He exhales through his nose, coming to life from your kiss and returning it full force. You take this as a good sign. A sign that you’ve broken through that wall once again, and bring your kurus together — making tsaheylu [the bond].

Both your eyes fly open, blown pupils staring into one another as your spirits unify. You both pull back, shoulders and chests heaving from your quick, unsteady breaths. You feel all that he feels – the frustration, the panic, the tension. It’s all fading, now finally nearing the end. He feels your subsiding heat, your soreness, your overpowering urge to care for him.

Before another second could pass, your lips crash into each other again—tongues intertwining as they explore one another’s mouth. Using his hand to support your upper back, he slowly lowers you onto the woven floor, parting your legs with his free hand. He situates himself between them, pressing his crotch firmly against yours. He’s warm, just like the toasty fire pit next to you.

I will try to be gentle. Ralak thinks to you, just like he’s been promising to be night after night.

I know you will. You smile, moving your kisses down his jawline as he slides his hands between your sticky pelvises.

——

It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the synchronous heat that had you and your mate locked away in your marui pod for a little over two days. Your back and thighs–and honestly everywhere else– still ache but outside of that, you feel like a brand new person. You weren’t able to confidently say that Ralak feels the same way, however.

Of course, he was adamant on limiting intimacy until you were ‘healed and recovered’. But, he had a bounce in his step. As if he were physically lighter. As if the weight of six years of pent up sexual frustration and self neglect melted off his back when you satiated the ‘insatiable’.

The constant aftercare was almost sickening. Even after most of your marks had faded he remained adamant on treating them with your own omaticayan herbs from back home. He praised them at every use, thanking your people for making such exceptional ’umtsa [medicine].

But as you entered the second week, after tons of reassurance, things dissipated and went back to normal. Ralak went back to his usual routine—fishing, hunting, responding to a few calls to Tonowari and your father. Ralak, without a doubt, made a vow to you and himself not to initiate anything until you were more than healed. But nonetheless clung to you in the nights.

He even, in fact, added a new step into your usual nighttime regimen. As usual, it began with the snuggles and tucking you under his arm just right, providing you with enough warmth to endure the cool night air. Then, he would release the perfect amount of pheromones to get you drowsy enough for bed.

But recently, he’s spent the past seven nights delaying the nightly routine until he’s had his fill of your scent. He’d lay himself down on your chest, nuzzling his face into your bosom and just breathe. You allowed it, thinking it was his own newfound way to wind down for bed.

Yet, the real reason was much different.

——

Right on the two week mark, Tsireya had roped you in with helping her with some of her Tsakrem duties. You were always happy to help her though, as it meant getting away from the marui pod for a little even if it meant being poked and prodded at.

And it certainly didn’t take long for that to happen.

Tsireya lets out a frustrated sigh and plops the medicinal pouch she’s weaving in her lap.  “I can no longer ignore it, y/n. You smell different.”

You lift your head, tearing your focus from your task of weaving and look at her with a puzzled expression on your face. You bring the end of your tail to your nose and sniff, but smell… nothing. “Like what?” Her brows lower and her eyes glisten with concern. She purses her lips and unsheathes the lengthy pin from its casing and grabs your hand. “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the sting.

Prick.

“Sss—ah! You need to be careful with how deep you go with that, you know. You could really—” The tsahik in training puts the wooden stick to her tongue and stares at you wide eyed, mouth agape. It’s as if she wants to speak but the words are lodged in her throat. “What? What is it?”

“You—perhaps I am wrong.” She stutters, quickly sheathing the tool back into its casing. “You should see my mother, y/n.”

“What? Why? Just tell me.” The words come out in a haste, and your voice is laced with panic. Do you have some sort of disease of the sea? Is there a cure? 

“You — you are with child.” Her lips tremble as she says the words in an uncertain tone of voice.

“What?” You stare at her dumbfounded, a little caught off guard by her choice of words.

“Pregnant. You’re pregnant. But I am likely mistaken. I am only in training. Which is why I said you should see my moth—”

“Oh. No. You’re… you’re probably right, Tsireya.” You swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks, avoiding eye contact.

“H-How? I mean. I know how. But how? Surely Ralak knows not to do such a thing during your heat. He can control himself. R-Right?”

“Right. If I were the only one… in heat.” You say the last few words under your breath, fixing your shawl before picking back up your task.

“What do you mean?” Tsireya leans in with a tilted head, looking a little closer at your covered shoulder. “Did you help him with his rut?” Tsireya asks bluntly. “He’s been unmated for six years, y/n. Did you reall—”

“I am his mate. Of course I did.” You nearly snap, baffled by the tone she’s having with you.

“H-How did that even work?” Tsireya shakes her head, slowly raising her hand towards you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally lift your head to shoot her a puzzled, yet offended stare. “It worked like it would for any other Na’vi.”

“Y/n…” Tsireya quickly grabs your shawl, pulling it off your shoulder to reveal a large, deep and scabbed up bite mark. It looks almost infected because of the strange omaticayan herbal concoction smeared over it. “You should have just let him ease you into it. Look at you, you’re all bruised and—”

“Tsireya.” You interject, “thank you for the concern, but—” you aggressively pull up your shawl, “I feel just fine. Besides, being in heat was the best way to ‘ease me into it’…He was as gentle as he could be.” You mutter, twiddling with the twine as you think back to the way he tried to handle you with care.

“By the looks of it, he was anything but gentle with you.” Tsireya seethes, angry that the man she grew up looking at like a brother would do something like this to you.

You wince at her words. They’re like a knife to the heart.

A long, awkward silence fills the space between you and Tsireya. She reflects on everything she’s said, realising that perhaps she was a little more harsh than needed. She softens her gaze, “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“I get it. I know you’re just looking out for me. It’s alright, ‘reya.”

You exchange lighthearted smiles.

“You are definitely pregnant then. After six years, he must have really filled you—”

“Tsireya!” You laugh, giving her shoulder a light shove.

Tsireya’s grin morphs into a more serious expression. “See mother to make sure. Okay?”

Your smile also fades into something softer as you nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”

#lunaskinktober2023 #ralak #ralak smut #avatar smut #awow smut #metkayina #metkayina smut #metkayina oc #oc smut #avatar oc smut #awow oc smut #sully reader #sully reader x oc #oc x sully reader #oc x sully reader smut #na'vi smut #na'vi x reader #na'vi x sully reader #na'vi avatar #smut #metkayina x omaticaya #metkayina x omaticaya smut #metkayina x fem reader #ralak x y/n #ralak x reader #ralak x you #heat cycles #heat cycle #rut cycle #rut cycles

[anobjectshowguy]

I hope people in the OSC (and other fandoms in general) who are ok with or neutral about Kosa realize that not only will we lose a bunch of platforms that allow us to interact with each other (Tumblr, discord, Ao3, Wattpad, Twitter, YouTube, etc) but will also get rid of at least 80-95% of our fandom.

The OSC consists mostly of people between 13-17 who (if Kosa goes through the Senate and Houses of Representatives and gets passed as a law) will most likely no longer have access to YouTube and other social platforms which actively kills almost all the people who read and watch Object Shows!

By visiting and sharing animated shows like II or BFDI those creators make money which gives them the means to keep making their shows and paying their animators, voice actors, writers and so much more. This bill will actively get rid of most of the people who watch these shows which will cause a large loss in support and revenue for these creators and will most likely mean the end for any smaller object show.

Object show comics rely on people sharing them around in fandom spaces since they’re not animated and put on YouTube like animated object shows are. By losing these spaces and the people who support their content these creators will no longer be able to reach a large audience and get the support they need to continue their comics. This means that we will lose a lot of the comics that the OSC has!

Most of the content you see in the OSC is made by minors, which this bill will actively destroy and thus kill this fandom and many others!

So I am begging of you OSC and other communities, Please please please sign petitions, tell your senators and representatives that you don’t want this bill to pass, and tell anyone that you can reach about how this Bill is a violation of privacy and minors' rights! Re-blog anything you see with helpful information about what Kosa is and keep talking about it! We need to tell people about it so that this doesn’t go through the Senate. Remember, the final day is February 26, we don’t have that long!!!

Here’s some helpful resources:

 https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/07/you-can-help-stop-these-bad-internet-bills

#kosa #stop kosa #kill kosa #kosa bill #internet censorship #kids online safety act #say no to kosa #online privacy #privacy violation #bad internet bills #down with internet censorship!! #internet freedom #stop bad internet bills #lgbtq+ #transgender #queer community #osc #object shows #osc community #object show comics #object show community #inanimate insanity #bfdi #fandom spaces #ao3 #wattpad

[zreamy]

nothing to lose

pairing: jay park x fem!reader

summary: after a hockey party, a football game, and a near perfect first kiss, jay is humbled by his (practically silent) friend sunghoon, who reminds him that he has nothing to lose.

genres: university / college au, friends (uni crushes) to lovers, smut, fluff

warnings: minors dni, vaguely (very?) british undertones..

word count: 24,064 .. sorry.

playlist: awkward sza, do you like me? daniel caesar

author's note: please just be nice to me and let me know your thoughts (positive / negative / anything as long as ur not mean abt it) .. thank u @asahicore my rock, my bestie, my beta reader .. <333 hope u enjoy !!!

When you pair his kind eyes and charming smile with his ever-positive outlook on life, it’s easy to see why Park Jongseong is heavily popular amongst the student body; even described by your flatmates (and the rest of his fan club) as the stuff of dreams. And in your dreams, you know exactly why he’s staring in your direction with a sweet smile on his face. In real life, however, you have absolutely no idea and it’s kind of weird. Not his smile itself, no, his smile is.. really pretty, but it’s kind of weird in the sense that it’s directed at you. 

You think. 

Most of the library’s population sits across the room in the computer lab and based on your seat, at an empty table, in the (also empty) far corner, he’s either smiling at you or at the wall that your head is resting on. It’s not until the two of you lock eyes that you feel you should smile back, though your brows knit together at the way he whips his head around in the other direction when you do – a move that seems out of character for the Park Jongseong that you know. Or rather, the Park Jongseong Jay that you knew.

The Jay you knew was a (more than) pleasant enough guy who grinned in a way that pushed a dimple into his cheek every time he got to class and sidled his way through the aisle to sit in the seat next to you. The very first time he did it he’d mistaken you for someone else, his smile faltering slightly as he sat down anyway, a large hand extended to you.

“Jay,” he introduced himself, nodding thoughtfully when you told him your name and holding on to your hand for a split second longer than what was comfortable. And even though it was clear that he’d been sitting in the wrong seat, at Na Jaemin’s end-of-year party months later, you acted shocked when he told you about how he’d forgotten to put his contacts in that morning. Nonetheless, he continued sitting next to you in that class for the rest of the semester.

From your current seat in the library, you watch him curiously, wondering if he might look over again. For two minutes, he leans against a shelf in the reference section, completely unaware of his audience (you) as he types on his phone. You can’t take your eyes off him until the sudden vibration of your phone startles you, your hand reaching for it immediately thinking (hoping?) it might be a text from him.

yj: hockey mixer tn 

yj: what are you guys wearing 

You feel relieved to see that it’s just Yunjin in the group chat, though, as you read the messages, you struggle not to roll your eyes seeing that she (captain of the hockey team) is still trying to convince you (non-member of the hockey team) to go to the hockey mixer. By the looks of things, the field hockey team is the last to take advantage of the space that the student union building has to offer. Functioning as a nightclub over the weekend (and on select weeknights), The U is the place to be if you’re looking for a good time for a good price.

Unlike the other club parties, tonight’s hockey mixer is Yunjin’s answer to concerns raised by members of the students’ union about binge drinking on campus. According to her: “A mixer is an informal gathering where people mingle, interact, and get to know each other. And a party is,” she paused, fixing her eyes on the ceiling as if waiting for divine inspiration to strike. “Fun.” She didn’t seem pleased when you asked if this meant that the mixer would be boring and eventually confessed that the hockey party would be a mixer in name only.

You lock your phone without responding and lift your gaze back to references only to find that Jay is gone; stuck to the part of the bookshelf he was leaning on, you notice a lopsided poster featuring two crossed field hockey sticks and a ball over a green gradient, and a chill runs down your spine. If Yunjin is one thing, she’s bad at graphic design persistent. 

Unfortunately, in all your time spent not working, you find that your laptop hasn’t begun doing your research paper for you, and the Google Doc looks exactly the same as it did when you last edited it one hour ago, with only the intro from the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals website pasted into it. In the bottom left corner of your screen, a white box tells you that it’s 467 words long, and, feeling a rare bout of motivation, you get to work paraphrasing and attempting to condense the text.

As morning turns into afternoon, the library starts to get busier and busier, and despite the low hum of several different conversations creeping in through your earphones, you’ve gotten into a flow with your work and don’t let anything distract you. That is until Jay himself lets his backpack thud onto the table across from you, brows raising a little at the sudden noise, before pulling out the chair and sitting down. 

“Need a study buddy?” he asks, a tentative hand on the zipper of his jacket. 

You take a moment to observe him; the way he asked to join you after having already joined you, settling into the seat before you’d had a chance to say anything. A part of you wants to say “no,” just to see how he reacts, but, with a smile on your face, you take out your earphones and say, “Sure.” 

A grin spreads over his lips as he mumbles the word sweet, shrugging off the oversized coat and letting it drape over the back of his chair, revealing a chunky pair of headphones sitting around his neck and a thin gold chain with a hook pendant on it. His dark hair sits flat on his forehead and he rakes a hand through it twice before taking a textbook out of his bag. He doesn’t touch it, though. Instead, he lets his elbows rest on the table in front of him, biceps flexing slightly under his sleeves as he crosses his forearms. “What are you working on?” he asks.

“A report on the integration of renewable technology in buildings, for my sustainable development class.” 

Jay hums, brows raising slightly. “Renewable tech like solar panels and shit, right?” 

“Right.” 

Another grin, pretty, sincere. “It’s cool you’re getting to learn about the stuff you care about,” he tells you, and even if you hadn’t been looking at him, you’d have been able to hear the smile in his voice, light, sweet. Jay is sweet. The statement trickled out of his mouth so simply, so casually, a small detail that you have to rack your brain to recall sharing with him; still just as attentive as you remember. “Really.”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling too. “Exactly.” 

There’s a distinct comfort that rolls off of Jay in waves as the two of you chat, and the scene feels familiar. It’s reminiscent of the nights you’d spend together last term, at a table like this one with the notes from your shared Property Law lecture sprawled out in front of you while pretending to study. The two of you would find anything else to talk about, and constantly received dirty looks from the laughter you’d struggle to stifle. 

It’s not until Jay reaches for his textbook that you properly check it out, and as a non-fashion student, you’re not expecting to know what subject he’s studying but you’re pretty sure that Nutrition, Energy, and Human Performance are not part of his curriculum. “Excercise Physiology?” you ask, reading its title.

“I picked it up earlier for Sunghoon. He’s at the rink all morning,” he nods.

“So why are you studying it?”

Jay laughs, shifting in his seat. “It’s, like, the only thing I have in my backpack. I just came over here ‘cause I wanted to say hey.” 

It takes everything in you not to say “aww” out loud; his sweetness palpable, his smile contagious, and his eyes so bright and warm that your heart soars in your chest when you look at them. “Hey,” you say after a beat. 

“Hey,” he chuckles. “How was your break?” 

“It was good! I went home for a week, or so, and then I got bored and came back to hang out with Chaewon,” you tell him, grinning despite yourself at the memory of poorly mixed cocktails and days spent lounging by the pool at her family’s holiday home. “85% of the summer was just us running around being stupid.” 

“And the other 15?” 

You feel more than a little awkward about telling him that you spent the other 15% fooling around with Jaemin, so with a forced smile you tell him, “Just more running around being stupid.” Hopefully, he can’t sense your mild discomfort and thinks you’re scratching your neck because it’s itchy and not because of the slight guilt you feel. “How was yours?” 

“Minus Chaewon, I had, like, the exact same break.” He pauses, breaking out into the widest grin you’ve ever seen. “Oh, and I went to the Yuuri show! It was crazy.” He runs a hand through his hair, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “I was gonna text you but I didn’t wanna bother you during break or anything.” 

“Oh,” you say, dragging the vowel. “Right. So you’re bothering me during term time instead?” You tease, though with the way Jay’s eyes widen and his brows knit together, it doesn’t seem like he’s caught on to your joking tone. “I’m kidding, tell me all about it,” you add as quickly as you can manage, a huge smile on your face. 

Relief washes over you as Jay laughs, his shoulders shaking, and his nose crinkling, showing off the scar across its bridge that you’ve come to like so much. After calming down, he watches you carefully, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Right,” he finally says, taking a breath before talking with excitement and at great length about the concert. 

But it isn’t without slight interruption: Jay’s phone vibrates against the table a few times, and he ignores it, eventually turning it on do not disturb before squinting at you. “You’re not allowed to laugh. Pinky promise me you won’t laugh.” He holds his hand out to you, wagging his pinky finger in your face. There’s a smile on his lips when you link your finger with his, his skin rough against your own when he squeezes your pinky. As much as his tight grip is starting to hurt, you (unsuccessfully) fight off a smile when you realise that the two of you are effectively holding hands. 

“I’m not gonna laugh,” you promise.

A beat passes before Jay lets out a chuckle. “That’s my girl,” he says, voice low as if he didn’t want you to hear him. You wish you didn’t hear him. 

When you try to let go, he doesn’t budge, only easing up a little so he’s not cutting off your circulation anymore; just holding it lightly with his. Across the table from you, struggling to meet your eyes, Jay wears a sheepish look. “He threw his pick out into the crowd at the end of the show, and I caught it!” he tells you, looking away. “And I cried..” His voice thins out into practically nothing though you think you hear the words “home,” and “Heeseung,” before he stops talking completely. 

Jay’s sentimental side has tugged at your heart for as long as you’ve known him, and given the way he’d sobbed quietly in his seat at the cinemas when you’d gone out to watch a late showing of Spider-Man 2 together, you find it easy to imagine him welling up over catching Yuuri’s guitar pick. 

For some reason, much like the tears he’d shed over Peter Parker, you find the thought quite cute, and a smile teases at the corners of your mouth as you make a mental note to finally listen to some Yuuri songs later on. Jay looks at you expectantly, and before you have the chance to speak his phone starts to ring, vibrating incessantly against the table, though Jay doesn’t take his eyes off of you. 

“Do you need to get that?” you ask, unable to suppress the snort that makes its way out. 

Jay shakes his head. “You promised me. You’re still promising me,” he says, lips curving into a frown as he makes a show of waving your still-linked hands.  

“No, it’s cute that you cried.” 

He seems shocked by this. “Really?” 

“A little.” 

His mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he furrows his brows at you. “A li—” He’s cut off by his phone vibrating once again, and he releases your pinky to check it. Jay sighs lightly, reading the messages from his screen and picking up the textbook. “Sorry, Hoon’s on my ass about this thing. I gotta go.” 

Disappointment weighs lightly on your shoulders at his words, though you do feel better when you see the little pout on his lips, hoping that it means he doesn’t want your conversation to end either. “I get it,” you say, shooting him a smile that you hope is convincing as he puts the book in his bag before pulling his jacket back on, and standing up from his seat. 

“I’ll text you,” he says cheerfully, waving at you before leaving. He looks over his shoulder a few moments later, waving again with the same smile from earlier on his face. 

You can’t help but watch as he retreats, captivated by the air of confidence he somehow exudes even without showing his face, until he disappears into the mix of students by the entrance, becoming just another bag and shoulders in the crowd. 

Without Jay to chat to, the idea of sitting in the library becomes jarring, and suddenly it’s time for you to leave too. You don’t hesitate to grab your phone when it vibrates twice next to you, an odd combination of the relief from earlier and slight disappointment hitting you when you see that it’s Yunjin — texting you directly this time. 

yj: if you wanna ignore me turn off read receipts 

yj: open bar for girls on the team

you: sounds like the hockey girls are gonna have a good night

yj: i’ll get you a jacket

you: don’t bother i’m not going. 

SWANG rattles through tinny speakers in the student union and with every free drink you knock back, it gets harder and harder to pretend to Yunjin that you’re not having a good time. The team jacket she snagged for you and Chaewon to share fits a little big over your shoulders as you conclude that Number 20 is a lot more popular than you thought if the vaguely disappointed look on many faces when they see your face is anything to go by. 

Sitting in a booth towards the back of The U, you and Yunjin mumble along to the song with a shot in each hand as she starts a countdown from 3! and you wonder whether or not you’ll be able to make it to class in the morn—2!—ing given how much you’ve had to drink and how much of the night is still left to happen 1! The formerly rancid tequila goes down like water the first time around, and gets caught in your throat the second time. 

“I’m so happy you came tonight!” she yells in your ear, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, choosing to gush while you cough into the crook of your elbow. “I always have the most fun with you but you never come out.” Her drunkenness is evident in the slightly higher pitch that her words take on and the way most of the consonants come out almost the same way the vowels do. 

As sweet as she’s being, you can’t ignore the alarms blaring in your head hearing that your best friend would describe going out (at least) two nights a week as “never” going out, but you chuckle along anyway, locking your hand with hers. 

With a smile on his face, Lee Jeno brings Chaewon back to the booth in one piece, ruffling her hair a little before raising a hand to salute you and Yunjin, and disappearing back into the crowd. 

“The period at the end of that last text almost convinced us,” she says as she takes her seat beside you. “But I new your little crush on Jay wouldn’t let you miss a chance to see him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Chaewon rolls her eyes, backing a shot before leaning over you to get closer to Yunjin. “She’s pretending again.” 

With a scoff, Yunjin unlocks her phone and pulls up her camera roll to an album titled with an unfortunately cute ship name. “I can’t stop thinki–” You cut her off, snatching the phone from her hands and placing it under your thigh. 

“Okay, okay,” you relent, letting your head fall back as you groan. “I may have had a.. thing for him last semester but I’m over it now.” 

“Do you think he’ll swipe up if I post a song he likes?” Chaewon reads between laughs. 

Flustered, you sink into your seat after hearing the text that you sent two nights ago, hoping with all your might that the booth will open up to swallow you whole. 

To your utter devastation, it does not. 

The universe chooses to soothe you in a different way by sending an angel Kazuha to drag you all out onto the dance floor. With intertwined hands, the four of you “excuse me” and “sorry” your way over to where Sakura and her friend Mark are dancing a little closer than usual with one another. 

His hands are on her hips as he holds her back to his front, the two of them grinding to the music, but she’s quick to smack his hands off of her and break away from him when she sees you guys approaching. Using a hand to push hair out of her face, Sakura laughs at nothing, smacking Mark’s chest playfully while he glues his eyes to the floor. 

“We missed you at pres,” you say, wrapping her in a hug. 

“Right, sorry, Mark had a thing at his place!” 

Despite understanding why she does, you ignore Chaewon when she nudges you at the mention of Mark and his place before hugging him too, agreeing when he says that you guys should come next time. 

The six of you form a circle after greeting one another, jumping around while yelling obnoxiously to the music blaring into your ears. Over Mark’s shoulder, you see Jay nodding at a friend before leaving the clu—“I’m actually gonna go get some air,” you blurt out. “Alone!” you add before Yunjin can offer to come with. 

Despite the way the breeze nips at your legs, the fresh air is a welcome slap in the face when it hits you; the previously ear-splitting music reduced to a pathetic mumble now that you’re outside. A few girls that you recognise from some of your classes stand opposite the, now short, entry queue, waving you towards them and blowing cigarette smoke over their shoulders. You shake your head when they offer you a draw, though (against your better judgement) you do accept a few hits of a polar menthol flavoured juul while chatting distractedly about your “new spot” on the hockey team and trying to find Jay — which doesn’t take you very long.

Not too far from where you’re standing, he leans against the building’s grey brick while looking at his phone. Its OLED display casts a slight glow over his features, showing off the crease of his brow, the slope of his nose, and the tiny little pout set on his lips as he types. 

You can’t help but stare as Jimin and Minjeong plan the rest of their night, which includes afters at Yizhuo’s if she doesn’t pass out, and extend an invitation to you and your friends — “I mean, we’re still gonna go. She’ll probably need us more if she does,” Minjeong says, stubbing out a cigarette under her shoe before both girls head inside. 

Waving goodbye, you let yourself find Jay again and take a deep breath. For a moment, you attempt to strategise in the way you and the girls always do together. A few possibilities play out in your head and right when you think you’ve found a good opener—“Hello!” You find yourself saying as you stumble walk over to him.

As you’ve come to expect, his mouth curves into a smile when he looks up at you. “Hello,” he says, laughing through the word. In the short time it takes you to reach him, and lean about an arm’s length away on the same wall, he slips his phone into his jacket pocket. “Since when are you a hockey girl?” 

With a smile of your own, you roll up your left sleeve to refer to a watch that you’re not wearing. “It’s been a few hours.”

Jay’s teeth press down on his bottom lip as he chuckles, before mumbling an apology and pulling his phone back out. You don’t mean to peek at his screen when he opens the messages app, but you do anyway. And can’t help but feel bad at the sight of your name at the top of the second message thread — the memory of Yunjin taking your phone so you couldn’t text back forcing your stomach to turn a little. 

Lifting your gaze back up to him, you sort of hate how pretty he looks as he ruffles his hair before putting his phone back in his pock—You turn your head immediately, finding sudden interest in the lamp post that irregularly flickers a pale yellow over his shoulder. For a split second, it seems like you managed to stare at him without being caught, but if the little laugh he lets out is anything to go by, your neck jerk wasn’t as subtle as you’d hoped. 

“You’re cute,” he grins, stepping a little closer. “It suits you.”

It’s a struggle to backtrack and remember what the two of you were even talking about as the faint scent of his cologne hits your nostrils. “F-field hockey?” you offer. 

“The jacket,” he clarifies, a sweet laugh slipping past his lips as he speaks. 

“Ohh, you too.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You think this suits me?” 

His hand comes to one side of his denim jacket, holding it out slightly and allowing you to catch a proper whiff of his cologne and a glimpse of his bare shoulder. You worry a little about what might come out of your mouth if you open it, deciding for everyone’s sake just to nod and pray that he’ll leave the damn jacket alone. 

“It’d probably look better on you.” 

An audible smile tugs at your lips. “No way.” You shake your head, trying and failing to keep your giggles to yourself.

“You wanna prove me wrong?”

With a tilt of your head, you turn the offer around in your mind; a pros and cons list starting to take shape. 

Pros: getting to wear Jay’s jacket, having an almost permanent reason to keep chatting with him throughout the night, and getting to see Jay in a vest — arguably the biggest pro of them all, given the amount of IG stories he’s posted in the gym recently.

Con: losing free drinks privileges; which doesn’t really seem like a huge deal because Chaewon can just wear the hockey jacket and get drinks for you like she’s been doing for half of the night so far. 

Under the weight of Jay’s stare, you shift on your feet, realising that he’s clearing his throat for the second time since he stopped speaking and you still haven't said anything. “But then I’d have to pay for my drinks,” you say in an attempt not to seem too eager. The words slur a bit on their way out, though you’re too caught up in the way Jay’s lips tug into a grin to fuss over it. 

“Not if you stick wi—” He stops short, cut off by a voice from a few metres away. “Jongsaaaaaaeeeeeeng!” it yells. And if not for his silver head of hair, you’d never have believed it was Park Sunghoon screaming like that. 

“Poor guy kept icing himself,” Lee Heeseung calmly explains, walking ahead of Sunghoon and, what looks like, Sim Jake who’ve been giggling with one another since the cry left the younger’s mouth. 

Despite not knowing Sunghoon very well, from what you’ve heard about him, it’s easy to imagine him hiding bottles of Smirnoff Ice to ice one of his friends, only to lose track of where he’d put them and find them himself later on, thinking one of his friends was icing him. The thought makes you stifle your laughter; you like the fact that Jay laughs too. 

Before dapping Jay up, Heeseung offers him the confiscated Smirnoff Ice that Sunghoon had made quite a dent in, only shrugging when he declines. Jay watches as his friend wraps an arm around your shoulder in a polite side hug while asking if you want to finish the “smice”. You let a beat pass before telling him that you’ll think about it. 

For a while, you listen as he fills Jay in on what he missed at pres, smiling at Jake and Sunghoon as they get closer, and wondering when it would be appropriate if at all, to introduce yourself to the three boys that you’ve only ever walked by at parties or on campus. You find a window when the two arrive, waving a little when you tell them your name. 

Jake’s lips curve into what looks like a smirk as he looks over at you. “We know,” he says, eyes darting quickly over to Jay before looking back at you.

Sunghoon says nothing. 

The boys are quick to get back to their conversation, and Heeseung glances in Jay’s direction, nodding his head before making a show of unscrewing the cap on the smice and skying it. After an impressive chug, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, holding up the empty bottle like a trophy before putting it in the bin. 

With a slight frown, you realise that you didn’t even get to tell him that you didn’t want it. 

There’s a grin on his face as he wraps his arms around Jake and Sunghoon’s shoulders. “See you guys in there!” he says before guiding the two boys away and into the club.

With the two of you on your own again, you become hyperaware of your proximity, of the fact that if you moved your hand even a centimetre it would brush his. The heat from his body is dizzying, and with his body leaning down towards you, Jay is already watching you when you look up at him. His lips rest in a small smile that only widens at the sight of your face, seeming unbothered that you’d caught him staring. That it wouldn’t take much to bridge the gap between your faces. Between your lips.  

“The offer still stands,” he says. “To wear my jacket and drink for free.” 

A somewhat familiar 808 beat rattles through tinny speakers in the student union.Jay’s jacket fits pretty big over your shoulders as you try not to say anything ridiculous while he holds your hand, leading you through the crowd. Now that your hands are actually clasped, the butterflies you’d felt over having linked fingers for a pinky promise seem silly, completely eclipsed by the feeling of your heart clattering against your ribs. After every few steps, he looks over his shoulder at you, your cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each smile he throws your way.

Upon your return to the booth, you drop the team jacket in Chaewon’s lap, praying that your friends won’t say anything about Jay or the fact that you’re wearing his jacket — or the fact that despite having reached your friends safely the two of you are still holding hands. By the looks of things it seems as though telling her to move up isn’t enough of a signal to her that you’d like to sit down; though maybe she’s just too busy trying to shrug the jacket back on to move up. You tell yourself that she’s just too busy trying to shrug the jacket back on to move up. 

Chaewon wears a wicked grin on her face, making no effort to be discreet about staring at your intertwined fingers. “YN? Why aren’t you dancing? You love this song!” she says, opening her mouth to wink obnoxiously at you and nudging Yunjin.

“I don’t know this song,” you say, liking the way Jay laughs beside you, squeezing your hand a little. 

For reasons unbeknownst to you, Yunjin sees this as the best opportunity to chime in, tilting her head before saying, “Whaaaaaaat? This is your favourite song! Trust me, Jay, she loves this song!” 

“And she’s such a good dancer,” Chaewon adds. “Have you seen her dance, Jay?” 

You stand around dumbly, mouthing the word “stop,” at your friends and leaning up towards Jay when he leans down to you. “How about a drink?” he asks with a voice as smooth as velvet, soft lips grazing the shell of your ear. 

“Please.” 

After telling the girls that you’ll be back, and flipping them off with your free hand, you let Jay lead you back through the dance floor to the bar, letting an elbow rest on its surface. When you look at him, he’s watching you, his lips quirked up ever so slightly while he does so. 

Letting your nails drum against the bar, you smile back. “Sorry about my friends,” you say, unsure as to why you’re apologising but feeling like it’s the right thing to say. 

“Sorry about your friends?” Jay asks. He grins. “Sorry about mine.”

You want to tell him that you liked his friends, that they seemed nice. Even though Sunghoon didn’t speak, and Heeseung finished the drink he offered you before you even had a chance to let him know that you wanted it. But he’s already distracted. 

His eyes scan the bottles that line the shelves behind the bar, and you busy yourself doing the same thing, the sight of almost every rum brand bringing up memories of past nights out with your friends. Two palm trees on a white bottle of “MarkLeebu” leave you suppressing your laughter as you think about Sakura’s friend falling asleep - standing up - against the wall of a club after drinking two bottles of Malibu to himself on a dare. 

Jay’s breath fans your ear when he speaks, “What are you having?” 

“A jäger bomb.” 

With a nod, he orders your drink and a whiskey for himself, and as per his suggestion, the two of you toast “to third year” before drinking. 

Jay makes good on his promise. One shot becomes two becomes three, and a cocktail in a comically large pitcher before you wake up the next morning to Sakura hogging the duvet, and no memory of anything beyond sitting down at the bar. 

While lying on your back you curse two versions of yourself: the first for leaving the window open before you left, and the second for having so much to drink. Staring up at the ceiling, you attempt to go over your interactions with Jay using a fine-tooth comb to figure out just how badly you humiliated yourself last night. Given the fact that you don’t remember what happened after 1 a.m. (or so), this doesn’t take too long, and the corners of your lips quirk up into a smile as you think about the way his hand felt in yours. 

Your memory tells you that he smiled a lot, but this seems like an insignificant detail because Jay always smiles a lot. There was a pitcher. A big one. Inside it was a vibrant, sweet, too cheap to be true cocktail that you sipped, blinked, and opened your eyes to find yourself in bed. The unaccounted-for period fills you with a visceral sense of dread, leaving you unsure if you shiver because of the temperature in your room or out of sheer embarrassment. 

The notifications you find on your phone only make you feel more nervous, so you cover your eyes with your hand before checking them. You were mentioned in Chaewon’s Instagram story (which means you behaved catastrophically), and you have a text from Jay (which .. well you’re not quite sure what to make of this). Through the gap in your fingers, you start by looking at the story, uncontrollable butterflies in your stomach from what you see. A picture (on close friends) of you sitting in Jay’s lap with his arms wrapped around your wairs, and his chin resting on your shoulder; the two of you donning wide grins with THESE TWOOOOOOO 😍😍😍 written over it. 

Jay’s text is simple yet sweet: hope u got home okay, was realy nice getting to chill w u again &lt;3. You don’t even realise that you’re giggling until Sakura stirs next to you. 

you: i did thank uuuuuuu

you: sorry if i was weird though haha 

You say. Although all things considered, you can’t really think of anything to be haha-ing about but Jay’s reply comes so quickly that you barely have the time to dwell on this fact. “Nahhhh you were so cute dw,” he texts back. 

With your stomach doing somersaults, you turn over in the bed, burying your head in the pillow to muffle a squeal.

Sakura wakes up. 

While in the shower, you let the water hit you directly in the face for a bit with your eyes screwed tightly shut under the stream. And not a single thought occurs to you other than how cute Jay seems to think you are. 

jay: do you have class today

you: slept in

jay: L

jay: for me.. i wanted to see you again  

Your jaw falls open as you read the message, and over your shoulder, Yunjin lets out the gasp that you hadn’t been able to. “Oh, my God!” she says, watching as a cheek-aching smile creeps up on your lips. A small celebration ensues while the two of you squeal and kick your feet like children. And then your phone vibrates again.

jay: could still link if ur down?

jay: hold up 

Yunjin pulls air through her teeth. “Could still link if you’re down,” she reads before taking the phone from your hand. “Fuckboy text, ignore.” 

Knowing you’re not likely to win the argument that Jay’s not a fuckboy — even though he’s not one, you think — you roll your eyes. “So what if he’s a fuckboy?” you frown, pulling your knees to your chest. 

“If a fuckboy was supposed to be liked he’d be called a like boy,” Yunjin says as if reciting scripture. “Text Jaemin back if you want a fuckboy.” 

You don’t mean to groan out loud at her tone. “Jaemin’s not a fuckboy, he’s just.. a guy. Who.. likes to fuck.” 

The sound of the front door opening prompts you to pause the TV, and the two of you crane your necks towards the open doorway to hear what’s going on. It’s Chaewon giggling loudly before speaking. 

“Thanks for bringing me home.” 

A deep chuckle sounds through the hall. Jeno. Of course. “You’re my girl,” he says and his smile is audible through his words. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Chaewon giggles at this too, and, pressing play on the remote, you share a look with Yunjin as you hear the beginning of a wet kiss. Brooklyn Nine-Nine gets through an entire cold open and the theme song before she – looking fresher than ever in her boyfriend’s sweatpants – joins you both on the couch. 

“What’d I miss?” she asks. 

“Yunjin thinks Jay’s a fuckboy.” 

Chaewon lets out a snort. “Well, yeah, anyone could’ve told you that, dude’s best friend is Lee Heeseung,” she says, though quickly changes her tune as if remembering her audience. “It’s all just rumours though, people see a good-looking guy who’s overly friendly and flirts with everybody, and posts obvious thirst traps to his Snapchat story, and just assume he’s a fuck boy..” she trails off, sinking a little in her seat.

Somewhat disheartened, you nod your head. “Right.” 

“So what did I miss?” Chaewon asks again, pointing at the TV this time. 

Still in Yunjin’s custody, your phone vibrates in her lap and she gasps as she reads the screen. “A reformed fuck boy?” she says, holding the phone up for you and Chaewon to read. 

jay: would you like to hang out with me later? 

You grin despite yourself, reading the message and reading it again before telling him “yes”, and later can’t come soon enough. The time slips by like molasses and you finally meet up with Jay -four decades- two hours later, with no set plan, at the library where he approaches you with Jake and a smile on his face. 

Friendly as ever, Jake chats with you and keeps a pretty smile on his lips the whole time. “If you ever have a hard time with physics or math based classes, I’ve got you,” he offers, clearly happy to hear that you’re in STEM too. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tell him, grateful as you remember the tears you’d shed over a Construction Mathematics lecture last year. 

With a wave, Jake leaves the two of you alone, saying “See you later” before walking away. He excitedly glances over his shoulder to where you stand with Jay a few times. 

After telling you that he “knows a spot,” Jay takes you on a bit of a walk, successfully distracting you from the distance by keeping you talking. He listens enthusiastically while you ramble about a show you started, and you like the feeling in your chest when he says he’ll check it out. 

With a “ta-da,” Jay extends an arm to the gate in front of you. A play park. “We’re here!” he says, struggling to mask the excitement in his voice as he walks towards the empty play area. “It’s no fun when there’s kids here so I brought us the long way.” 

As you follow him through the gate, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous. The last time you’d been sober at a play park you were probably 15 or so, cutting through the park on your walk home from school with your friends. You’d spin the roundabout at lightspeed cackling at the screams of terror coming from those sitting on it, and talk about your crushes while calming down on the swings. 

Jay sits on one of the swings and watches you, and even though you’re not too sure what to talk about, you’re pretty sure confessing your crush on him as you sit next to him might send him running in the opposite direction. Instead, you clear your throat and look over at him. “So your “spot” is a play park?” you ask, using your feet to rock you back and forth. 

He pulls air through his teeth, scrunching his nose and tilting his head. “Would you prefer it if I took you to CP in the Sky?” 

If Jay had his car with him, you might have hoped for that. Most of the boys in your city who drive, including Jaemin, have been known to take girls to a spot they know. Super quiet, private, and almost as pretty as you, they’ll say, and take you up to ‘Car Park in the Sky’; the city’s most notorious hook-up spot. Though, Jaemin hadn’t exactly been secretive about wanting to hook up and actually only drove there after you’d told him about it. 

You shake your head. “The park is good, it’s great.” 

Conversation ebbs and flows between the two of you, the sounds of nature and the swings creaking keeping you company. It’s nice spending time with Jay like this. Sober. And not holed up in the library or a cafe with assignments and deadlines on your mind. 

You don’t mean to gain momentum but you do, swinging about as high as you can, gasping when you see a car over the top of a climbing frame. 

“What is it?” he asks, laughing to himself when you jump off the swing. 

“I wanna take a drive!” you call out over your shoulder, jogging over to the wooden stationary car you saw.

Jay’s footsteps sound after yours, and he grabs you by the wrist before you climb into the driver’s side. “Did you get your licence yet?” 

You shake your head, watching as his mouth falls open, bracing yourself for a lecture on how a girl of your age should be driving already. 

He looks aghast, in genuine distress before he speaks. “What makes you think I’m gonna let you drive?” Jay nods his head to the other side of the car. “Go.” 

Letting out the most exaggerated sigh you can manage, you comply, dragging your feet to the passenger side and climbing in. Jay follows suit, sitting down next to you on the small connected seat built with kids in mind, and his thigh presses up against yours. 

“Don’t be upset, everyone knows passenger princess is way more fun than actually driving.” 

And rationally, you know he’s not specifically calling you a princess but your tummy turns nonetheless. 

“Whatever,” you mumble, faking a sigh and struggling to suppress your laughter when he buckles a fake seat belt. Jay gives you a disapproving look when you don’t move to do the same. “Are you serious?” 

“As a heart attack,” he says solemnly, though you can see the smile teasing at his lips. “Better safe than sorry, that’s what I always say.” 

There’s nothing behind his words, no hidden meaning but you read into them anyway, hoping he can’t hear the way you gulp at the thought that plagues you. For some reason, you’ve chosen this hill to die on, shrugging at him and turning to look straight ahead. 

Jay sighs dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose before leaning over you to grab your ‘seat belt’ and buckle in by himself. He takes his time though, and the way he looks you dead in the eye makes you wish you’d just done it yourself. His face is close to yours, his breath warm against your skin, creating a welcome contrast to the cold air around you. He lingers for a beat before sitting up straight and clicking the belt into place. 

“Finally,” he whispers, putting an imaginary gear stick into reverse and draping his arm over the back of your connected seat. You can’t help but watch as he looks over your shoulders before moving the car, liking the way his side profile looks under the rapidly setting sun. Something stops him, he looks at you. “I can’t focus with you staring at me like that,” he says, taking his hand from the wheel to touch your cheek.

Your breath catches in your throat. Jay grins, gently turning your face away from him. You stare over at the roundabout and feel just as dizzy as you would have if you’d taken him up on his offer to spin you on it. 

Jay gets on with all the necessary checks before ‘starting’ the car and ‘driving’ off. “What are you thinking about?” 

It probably wouldn’t be appropriate to tell him that you’re thinking about the way it felt when he put his fingers to your cheek. Or how gentle he was with you, only pushing you a little bit and then guiding you the rest of the way. So you keep that to yourself. “The movies.” 

You hear Jay chuckling next to you. “All of them?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “The drive-in kind. Have you been?” 

“I went once.” 

You gasp, excited. “Really? What did you see?” 

Jay thinks about it for a while. He thinks about it really hard before shaking his head, “You know, I don’t think I was paying much attention.” 

“You spent all that money on a ticket and didn’t even pay attention? What were you doing?” The words rush out before you can stop them and you cringe a little thinking about the possible answers. 

He turns his gaze back out on the road. “Sleeping,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly. 

You wish you could go back in time to stop yourself from asking, finding an answer to the question: “Is it better to speak or to die?” 

“Hey, we can go to the drive-in right now! I just need to put this thing in park and we can watch any movie you want!” he says, stopping the car and turning as much as he can in his seat to face you. “Any movie that’s available with a Netflix subscription!” he adds, smiling when you do. 

Cramped together in the front seat of the stationary car, the two of you watch The Devil Wears Prada and get about halfway through before Jay’s phone hits 10% — and it’s probably the best movie watching experience you’ve ever had.  

You take Jay up on his offer to walk you home, and he chats with you about the movie, telling you how much he thinks it totally blows that Miranda Priestly isn’t a real person that he can work for after graduation, but he seems happy enough when you suggest that he could become Miranda Priestly.  

Reaching the familiar crossing by the student union, you look up at him. “If it’s easier, you can just head your way from here. I can literally see my building,” you offer, feeling bad about him walking so far out of his way. 

Jay scoffs like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “I’m not gonna make you walk by yourself.” 

“It’s barely five minutes,” you tell him, shaking your head. “You don’t have to.” 

“YN?” 

“Hm?”

A pretty smile spreads across his lips. “I want to, let’s go.” And Jay hardly gets to start telling you about his upcoming mock trial before you reach your flat. 

“This is me,” you say, pointing at the door to your building. 

He lets out a dry chuckle. “You’re kidding.”

You shake your head. He frowns, looking terribly cute with his lips turned down like that. Though it doesn’t last for long and he raises his brows when you gasp. “You know, we came from a place I’ve never been before, and I’m starting to think this might be the wrong street,” you say, struck by the sudden realisation. “We should probably walk around the block a couple more times, just to really be sure.” 

Listening to your words, Jay beams at you and it’s heavenly. “I heard it can actually take, like, 4 or 5 walks around the block if you want 100% certainty.” 

“Oh yeah,” you giggle. “I think I’ve heard that too. Should we make it 6?” 

“Perfect.” 

To your surprise, you’d both been wrong. As it would turn out, the required number of, very slow, walks around a student housing complex to be 100% sure, completely beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re at the right place is ten.

“Hey, uh, how about we do one more lap? Just to make sure? For the absolute best measure,” Jay suggests, eyes twinkling under the streetlamp. He almost looks a little nervous, burying his hands in his pockets as he watches you. 

“Sounds good.”

Just like your last few walks around the student housing block, fallen leaves rustle under your footsteps, and the back of Jay’s hand still brushes against yours, but this time feels different. Maybe because there’s a finality to this; the last lap. You couldn’t possibly ask him to spend any more time walking around here. Could you? 

“This neighbourhood is so cute, all the student apartments clustered together like this, I love it,” he says, looking over at you.

“It’s nice knowing that some of my friends, and the people I like partying with, live so close, but it’s always so noisy around here,” you tell him, continuing when he doesn’t speak. “‘Cause it’s all just a bunch of 18–20–somethings that live here, and The U’s just down the street. The noise is fun when I’m part of it, but when I’m studying or just trying to sleep it’s annoying.” 

“Don’t you think it’s kinda cool though? There’s always something happening. So even if the girls aren’t down to go out, you’re not exactly short on plans.”

You’d never really thought of it like that. Probably because Yunjin is always down to go out. But you like the way he puts it. You nod, reminded of your classmates who live in the building right next to where you’re walking. “Yeah, I should probably text Minjeong more.” 

“And if not you can always hit me and see what I’m doing,” he says at the same time. 

You stop walking, and your heart — feels like it — stops beating. 

Jay, noticing this, stands in front of you, hands help up defensively as he shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that, obviously. I just thought it’d be cool if you weren’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything, maybe we could link and do nothing together,” he explains. “I’m stupid, sorry.”

This might be the first time you’ve ever heard Jay ramble like this, and your heart does a twirl just seeing his worried expression. “I think if I’m not doing anything, and you’re not doing anything, then it’d be cool for us to link and do nothing together, Jay,” you smile, liking the way he visibly relaxes, his shoulders falling slightly and an exhale curling out of his mouth and into the air.

“Cool.” 

When, for the 11th time, you reach your building, you turn to Jay and hesitate a little, unsure of what to say. Glancing at him, it looks as though he’s feeling the same way. A silence falls over the two of you. 

Finally, Jay speaks. “Goodnight,” he says, pulling you into a hug. 

Despite your surprise, you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him close. You hope he can’t feel the way your heart is racing. Or the way it starts to pick up when you catch a whiff of his scent. Warm and cosy, tempting in a strange way that you can’t quite put your finger on but you like all the same. 

When Jay lets go of you, you look up at him almost instinctively. You don’t mean to stare at his lips but you do, gulping at how close they are. You want to kiss him. Not any more than usual, but the urge is there. “Goodnight,” you say, taking a step back and walking up the path to the door.

Using your key fob, you unlock the door, turning to look over your shoulder and thankfully finding Jay still standing there, watching you with a stomach-turning smile on his face. “I had a really nice time tonight,” you say, smiling back. 

“Yeah?”

You nod. “We should hang out more.”

“I think so too.” 

“Cool,” you smile, biting your lip. “Goodnight, Jay.” 

“Goodnight, YN.” 

“Could you, text me? When you get home, so I know you’re, like, safe.” 

Jay beams at you, nodding his head. “Of course.” 

After a week (eleven days) of texting and hanging out with Jay when you can, you find yourself spending 3 hours of your Friday afternoon taking notes in your Sustainable Development lecture, and coming to the realisation that none of the course content is relevant to the report you’re trying to get through. 

Seeing Jay leaning on the wall outside your class when you leave is a welcome surprise; he wears a thin pair of glasses and a smile that makes your heart stutter a bit as he stands up straighter, greeting you when he sees you and quickly falling into your step. “I meant to ask you earlier, are you going to the game on Saturday?” A beat passes. “Football,” he clarifies. “First home game of the season.” 

“Maybe if my friends are going.” 

Jay seems to think about this for a moment as you round the corner at the end of the corridor and he holds the door to the stairwell open. “After you.” 

You mumble a thank you and count six steps before he speaks again. 

“I’m going,” Jay informs you, his hand meeting the back of his neck to scratch awkwardly at it. “I mean, I’m gonna be on the pitch but.. I’ll be there.” 

A breathy laugh slips from your lips at this added information; how sweet of the football team’s captain to let you know that he’ll be at his team’s football game on Saturday. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“I just think it’d be cool to see a friendly face in the crowd when I score the winning goal.” 

Given Jay’s unending kindness, you imagine that most of the faces in the crowd — or at least the ones from your uni — will be friendly, especially if he scores the winning goal. The thought causes a smile to itch at your lips as you consider that maybe he means that it’d be cool to see your friendly face in the crowd. And who could say no to that? 

The rest of the conversation goes smoothly and Jay slows down when you reach the second floor. “I have some admin shit to work out, but I’ll see you at the game?” he asks, watching you with hopeful eyes and chewing on his bottom lip.

Knowing full well that you’ll be there, you pretend to think about it for a moment. “Maybe.”

Jay chuckles at this, tilting his head. “Please?” 

“Maybe,” you repeat, despite already planning your outfit. Did you wash your white shirt or will you be doing laundry tonight? You wave at Jay when he waves and make your way down the rest of the stairs while clicking mindlessly through Instagram stories. 

Nothing interests you until you reach IG user onyourm__ark's story; a picture of IG user 39saku_chan in his football jersey. You hit the like button and pretend to believe that the song choice (Infrunami by Steve Lacy) was made purely out of sheer enjoyment of the artist’s early work.

With a smile on your face, you text the group chat to solidify your weekend plans.

you: are u going to the football game tmrw

cw: not even if u paid me

yj: hard no

yj: i’m going to the party AFTER the game though

yj: why?

you: it’s nothing dw

cw: ???

you: jay invited me..

The chill of October’s first evening is unkind on your face as you sit amongst the rowdiness of drunk uni kids, cheering and groaning in unison as the game trudges on, and somehow Kazuha manages to sleep through it all with her head on your shoulder. 

“Fuuuuck,” Yunjin groans, shivering in the seat next to you. “I hate sports.” 

“Says the captain of the hockey team,” you say, voice coming out muffled behind the top of your jacket.

“Playing and watching are, like, completely different.” 

You’re sure Yunjin’s right, she has to be, but you have to admit that there’s something more than slightly entertaining about watching a group of boys chasing a ball around and yelling expletives at one another, all while number 99 keeps a huge grin on his face, laughing at his teammate’s temper. Or lack thereof. 

However, the novelty wears off at around 8:45 when the ref calls for half-time; a chill runs down your spine as you’re struck with the realisation that university football games are full-length. But other than Yunjin’s teasing, there’s no use pretending that you hate the sight of Jay lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

As the players retreat from the pitch and some students start to clear the stands, Yunjin gets up to stretch. She hums along to the song playing while you watch from your seat with aching knees, slightly envious and trying not to move too much and wake up Kazuha who sleeps soundly on your shoulder. 

With her arms above her head, Yunjin lets out a yawn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’d really rather be doing a reading for marketing than be here any longer.”

“And I’d rather be helping you out,” you say, frowning a little when Kazuha stirs. “Hey, what do you think they do during half-time?” you ask distractedly. 

She thinks about it for a beat, eyes flicking to the pitch before looking back to you. “We usually strategise, use the bathroom, get water — quick things like that,” she says, raking a hand through her hair, watching as you shift a little in your seat to get your phone from your pocket when it vibrates. “They have a lot longer than we do though.” 

jay: are you having fun?

you: yeah you guys are great, good game so far :)

Yunjin scrunches up her nose as she reads the exchange. “God, you’re so boring,” she sighs, taking the phone from your hands, and typing something before showing the screen to you. 

“We should link at the party later,” you read, scoffing as you take it back and delete the message. “I’d never say that.” In those words. 

jay: hahaha i think you might be my good luck charm 

A dramatic gasp comes from a now-awake Kazuha. “Don’t reply!” 

You heed this advice, joining her as she stands up to stretch as well. 

“Look how much fun they’re having,” Kazuha sighs, pointing over at Sakura and Chaewon in their seats close to the pitch. They dance along to the music blaring through the speakers and laugh so loudly you can hear them despite their distance. “Why didn’t we join them?” 

You think about it for a bit, filled with regret. “At the time, pregaming before the game and then pregaming again before the party seemed intense but..” you trail off, watching your friends clutch their stomachs in laughter. “Next time.” 

“Next time,” Kazuha repeats, slouching in her seat. “I’m clearing your drink supply when we get back.” There’s a frown on her face when she speaks but she’s quick to perk up at the sound of your text tone, grabbing the phone for herself. 

jay: are you coming tn? got a feeling that congrats will be in order

you (technically kazuha): wouldn’t miss it !!! 

“Three exclamation points? I’m not that desperate,” you say defensively, nudging her in the ribs. 

As if on cue, Yunjin reads another text. “I saw his notes again, his handwriting is so cute and ugly, agh I’m literally clutching my chest, he’s perfect,” she says, her voice high-pitched and mocking. 

Hearing your typed words out loud from someone else’s mouth is troubling, especially because “It never seems that bad when I’m typing,” you frown, immediately checking your phone when it goes off. 

jay: awesome :) see u there 

jay: !!!

The game’s second half goes by much quicker and in the end, they lose 5-3, leaving you and Yunjin struggling to keep your laughter to yourselves at the sight of the FIRST W OF THE SEASON banner hanging up in the living room of the house that most of the footballers share. With linked arms, the two of you make your way to the kitchen to get something to drink. Already feeling the buzz from pregaming, you settle on a cup of lemonade which Yunjin rolls her eyes at. 

“Shut up,” you say, eyeing her over the rim of your cup. 

Yunjin holds her hands up defensively, spilling a few drops of her tequila-vodka concoction. “I didn’t even say anything.” For a couple of minutes, you pretend to listen as Yunjin tries to come up with a game plan for the night, nodding and humming along when she pauses, and trying to decipher the animal code names she’s using. A gasp. “I see him! Black cat and penguin sitting out on the half wall.” 

You watch as she leans over the sink to get a closer look out of the window. “I feel like saying exactly where they are makes the code names redundant.” 

“I feel like you’re redundant.” A beat passes. “Just be yourself, and if he says something funny, laugh and put your hand on his bicep while you do.” 

“Noted.”

Yunjin doesn’t let you go outside without taking a sip (or three) of the poison in her cup, and after you gag over the sink, the two of you make your way into the garden, sights set on the half wall where “black cat” now sits alone. A potent mixture of the scent of tobacco and weed hits you the second you open the back door, and the two of you leave the house to make a beeline to Jay, apparently to Yunjin’s displeasure, given the way she asks you three times to play beer pong with her when some of the basketball boys start setting up cups for the next round.

“No,” you say. Three times. 

As if sensing your presence, Jay whips his head around right before the two of you reach him, a bright smile gracing his face as he waves at you with his whole arm. He seems to glow against the darkness of the night, bright, dreamy, an unreal quality that leaves you feeling fuzzy around the edges. Jay, you think, over and over and it starts to sound made up. Jay. Jay. Jay. Until you reach him. He stands up when you guys are close enough. “You’re here,” Jay says with a smile, pulling you into a hug. With his arms around your waist, his hold is somehow both tight and gentle. Secure. Safe. 

“Hey,” you say, voice muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. A whiff of his scent hits you, flooding your senses. Fresh, citrusy, and undeniably Jay. A dizzying combination, so light, and distinctly him in a way that makes your heart beat a bit faster. 

When Jay lets go of you to hug Yunjin, you take the last sip of your drink and almost wish you’d taken her cup instead; your lemonade is sweet to the tongue but does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence. You watch as they greet each other while Jay sits back down. Standing in front of him with your arm against Yunjin’s, you feel as though you've missed the window to sit down too and opt to continue standing next to her. 

“We like your banner,” you say, pointing in the direction of the house behind him. 

Following your finger, Jay lets his head whip around towards the back of the house. Yunjin uses the time he spends looking over his shoulder to nudge you, nod her head in his direction, and mouth the word “sit” at you. So you do.

If he’s surprised to turn back around barely a second later and find you right beside him, Jay doesn’t show it. He gives you a warm smile and knocks his knee against yours before speaking. “What, first w of the season?” He tilts his head. “And here I thought you were a good luck charm, twenty,” he says with a chuckle when you nod. 

Yunjin’s brows raise, and you feel yours rise too. “Twenty?” she asks. 

“The hockey jacket,” he answers without missing a beat. “Speaking of, when’s your next game?” 

“Oh, we’re playing the Foxes next week,” Yunjin rakes a hand through her hair. “TDU, you know?” 

Jay nods, turning his attention back to you. “Can I look forward to seeing you on the field, twenty?” 

Tilting your head, you pull air through your teeth. “You know what, I actually just got benched, like, right now,” you say, liking the way Jay laughs. “I’m out for the rest of the season.” 

After clapping a hand to his mouth, Jay points at you. “Did they get you on a drunk and disorderly after the mixer?” he asks through a laugh. 

In horror, you watch while Yunjin’s head falls back with laughter as she lets out cackles that only unsettle you. “That’s exactly what happened!”

“I was not.. disorderly,” you say meekly, finding sudden interest in the hem of your skirt.

It sounds as though Jay says: “You didn’t tell her how she got back home?” though you’re finding it difficult to focus on much other than trying to recover your missed hours after the hockey mixer. 

You’ve gone on countless nights out, spent many mornings after vowing never to drink again, and, on multiple occasions, have gotten too drunk to enter the club. But even then, in the past, your memory has only ever been.. spotty, nonlinear. Never completely void for hours at a time, and it’s concerning. After tonight, you really won’t drink again. 

Except on birthdays. 

And when you go to the club. Or to parties. Or when you’re bored with the girls. But again, apart from that? Never. 

“How did I g—” you start, though Yunjin cuts you off. 

“I think Zuha’s lifting her leg again, hold on,” she groans, looking over Jay’s shoulder at the glass doors leading to the kitchen. Yunjin disappears back into the house and it’s not until you watch her slide the back door shut behind her that you remember Kazuha having too much to drink at pres and having to stay in with Chaewon. 

When you look at Jay, he watches you with knitted brows. “Kazuha’s doing what?” he asks. 

“Ballet,” you explain. He nods. 

Neither of you speak for a moment. While you chew on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help but wonder if you should’ve followed Yunjin, or if you should’ve had less to drink at the mixer. You reckon the fact that Jay’s still talking to you must mean you didn’t do anything that you can’t recover from, but you can’t shake the feeling that your trip home that night was less than pleasant. 

“Hey,” Jay says quietly, catching your attention with concern lacing his features. “What do you look so down for?” he asks. 

Though terrified of the answer, you repeat your earlier question. “How did I get home?” you ask, wondering if the Earth usually opened up to swallow people whole or if you’d have to put in a special request.

Jay licks his lips, using his hand to push your shoulder playfully. “I have no idea,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I was talking to Yunjin at the library on Tuesday, I think, and she told me you can’t remember anything. I just wanted to freak you out.” 

You feel heat under his touch and relief from his words, though something about him talking with Yunjin seems to jostle you slightly. “Yunjin was at the library?”

Briefly, what looks like disappointment flashes across Jay’s face, replaced quickly with a pretty smile, light, playful. “You care more about Yunjin being at the library than me asking your friend about you?” he asks.

“You were asking my friend about me?” 

“Yeah, I think you’re cute,” Jay says sweetly, smiling at you in a way that makes your cheeks burn even when you look down at your lap. 

There’s something about the way he says it, so casually as if telling you the time or today’s date, that throws you off. It doesn’t make any sense to you that some of the most vivid sensations that Jay makes you feel are just that: sensations. You know that your stomach doesn’t actually have butterflies in it and that your heart isn’t really twirling in your chest, but it sure feels like it. You wonder if he also feels like that sometimes. You earnestly hope that if he does, it’s because of you.

He seems nearer than before when you look at him, and for fear that you might kiss him if he gets any closer, you bring your empty cup to your lips, lean back a little, and pretend to sip. Its emptiness isn’t lost on Jay, however, who chuckles, asking if you want a refill. While walking towards the house, you listen as he tells you what the team normally get up to during half-time (mostly strategising and pretending not to hear Heeseung’s snores), and silently beg your cheeks to cool down. His hand is heavy on the small of your back as he ushers you inside first, sliding the door shut behind him, and gently pushing you towards the kitchen island. 

You let yourself lean against the counter, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach as you watch him reach for a visibly sticky bottle of your favourite drink without asking what you’d like. Though before actually touching it, his eyes widen. “Wait, I have something for you,” he says, holding out a hand for you to take. “Come on.” 

Jay weaves his fingers with yours, leading you through the house and up the stairs into a bedroom. He closes the door gently behind you, stepping over a couple of backpacks before sitting on the end of the bed, and tugging at the zipper on one of them. 

For a moment you watch as veins appear on his hands and have to physically tell yourself to drag your eyes to anything else, eventually settling on the walls. Walls that are covered in countless glossy 4x6 prints, some shots of landscapes, groups of people, out-of-focus beer bottles and.. “You have a lot of photos of Mark Lee in here,” you comment, scanning the room around you. “And it doesn’t look like you’re.. in any of them,” you continue as you notice a grainy polaroid stuck to the wall next to the light switch — a picture of Mark making out with his best friend, Sakura “give me a break, a boy and a girl can be just friends” Miyawaki, and make a mental note to bring it up later. 

Jay glances at you as if you’re the one sleeping in a Markkura shrine. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s his room,” he chuckles. “You can sit down, you know,” he adds after a beat, moving over a bit on the bed. 

With a nod, you look at some more of the pictures as you make your way over to the spot next to him, a photo of Mark and Jake with their middle fingers to the camera catching your eye. And holding it for so long that you trip a little over one of the backpacks before sitting down and pretending nothing happened. Thankfully, Jay doesn’t seem to notice. 

“It’s not much by the way, don’t get your hopes up,” he warns, his hand still hidden by the fabric of his bag. 

“Got it.” 

Despite his earlier disclaimer, he makes a show of the whole thing. “Ta-da!” His voice is a little singsong as he brings the obje—bottle of Smirnoff Ice into view. 

“Thank you?” The bottle is cold in your hands when you take it from him, reading the ABV 4% on its label and wondering how many of these Sunghoon must have had to drink to have been stumbling the way he was that night. You also can’t help but wonder what reason Jay has for buying you a bottle and then taking you into the privacy of Mark’s bedroom to give it to you.

“Yeah,” he trails off a little, letting his hand come up to scratch the back of his neck. “You looked pretty crushed the other night when Heeseung finished that one bottle.” 

You can’t help the scoff that comes out. “Crushed? I mean, I might’ve frowned.” 

“Frowned? You were near tears, I was worried about you.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m serious, every time I looked at you, you had this.. upset look on your face.” 

“Well, maybe you should stop looking at me so much.”

Jay’s eyes sparkle under the light, flicking back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he brings a hand up to your face, tucking some hair behind your ear, his fingers hot on your skin, unmoving. His eyes lock with yours. “Come on,” he says in a low voice. “You know there’s no stopping that.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. Jay bites his. His gaze drops back down to your mouth. Lingers. And in what almost seems like an alcohol-induced hallucination, he leans in. Slightly. As if testing the waters. As if waiting for a sign that you want him to stop. A sign that you want him to continue. Anything. His hand is heavy on your cheek when he cups it in his palm, skin rough against yours. 

Mere inches away, Jay’s lips seem more tempting than ever. Separated only by the distance of a breath and your nerves, you try to settle yourself. To put your heart at ease. But how could you relax when he looks at you like that; his gaze soft, tender, all of his attention on y—The bottle slips from your hands, cool against your thighs, reminding you of its existence. Jay flinches when you do. 

“Let’s have a drink!” you suggest, though the absence you feel when he takes his hand from your face makes you wish you hadn’t.

“Sure.”

The cap screws off the bottle with a few satisfying clicks, and Jay, amused, shakes his head when you offer him the first sip. “After you,” he says. 

Without a second thought, the bottle touches your lips and the sweet, sweet taste of Smirnoff Ice touches your tongue, coating your mouth and leaving you wishing the alcohol content was higher. 

“Do you mind if I put my lips on it?” he asks while you pass the drink to him. 

You shake your head, determined not to think of a double meaning, and watch as his lips connect with the bottle’s opening, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat while he drinks. When Jay pulls it from his mouth, he lets his tongue dart out to wet his lips. You wonder if it will taste different in his mouth, if his lips, wet from the drink, taste as sweet as they look. 

Now that you realise you’ve shared an indirect kiss, you kick yourself for passing up the chance at a direct one, deciding that if you want him to kiss you, you’ll need to get closer. Step up your game a little. Maybe you’ll say something about his necklace, ask to get a better look.. And hopefully, he’ll take the hint and kiss you because you’re not really sure what else you could say. 

Of course, you could opt to skip words altogether, taking his face in your hands, and pressing your lips to his. You’re sure that’s what Yunjin would do. And you’re sure that would be her advice to you if you asked her.

Jay hands the bottle back to you and you close it, determined to feel his lips on yours if it’s the last thing you do. And you quickly open the bottle again, one last sip for good luck. The soft laugh he lets out is breathy, and it’s hard to tell if the heat in your stomach is coming from the drink, or from the way you see him looking at you in your peripheral. 

His straight teeth bite at his bottom lip, and he shakes his head when you offer him another sip. This time when you close the bottle, you do it for good, setting the glass on the floor so it doesn’t interrupt you again. 

“I really like your necklace,” you say, off to a good start, following the plan. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“Aw.. thanks,” he says, choosing now, of all times, to stop being a conversationalist. 

In the quiet of the room, you realise that you hadn’t planned anything beyond the compliment. You let your eyes focus back on the charm hanging from his neck, trying to picture him with a fishing rod in his hand, and wellington boots on his feet. It doesn’t really work. “I didn’t realise you were so into fishing,” you blurt out, and the way he knits his brows together makes you wish you’d just grabbed him and planted a kiss on the lips he purses to the side while watching you. 

“Me?” 

“Yeah you, with your cute little hook on a chain.” 

Jay squints at you. “Hook on a chain?” he repeats. 

You let a hand reach up and press on the hook pendant on his necklace. 

His shoulders rise and fall dramatically as he sighs, his hand coming up to wrap around yours, holding it to the base of his neck as the small (not) hook warms in your fist. “Why does everybody think it’s a hook?” 

“It isn’t?” 

“It’s the letter J.” He lets go of your hand to lift the charm. “See?” 

You squint your eyes, leaning a little closer to him, gaze fixed on the little gold hook letter sitting near the base of his neck. “Ohhhh, right,” you say, but even from a few inches away, it still looks like a hook, and from this close, you can hear the way his breath hitches in his throat.

With an inhale, you find yourself lingering. Sticking around just long enough to make out the woodier notes of his cologne before moving back a little. Finally, you draw your eyes away from his neck, wanting to meet his gaze but finding yourself stuck on his lips instead. They sit slightly ajar, pink, pretty, sort of chapped in the way they always seem to be. His breath tickles your forehead. You sit straighter, noticing the way his eyes burn holes into you. 

“Quit staring,” you mumble hypocritically. 

Jay’s brows quirk up for a split second as he sits back on his hands. “I’m not.”

“You are.” 

“Well, you’d have to be staring at me to know.” 

“Do you want me to stop staring?”

He seems to consider this for a second before shaking his head. “No,” he tells you. 

“What do you want then?” Your voice is soft when you ask. 

“I wanna kiss you.” 

Jay’s lips don’t move but you hear the word “really” being spoken out into the room like a question. Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and doesn’t fully register until Jay says: “Yeah,” so softly that it’s practically a whisper. 

Jay wants.. to kiss you. You feel your breath catch in your throat and it seems even more ridiculous to think it than to have heard it from him. To see his lips move to form the words. I wanna kiss you, he’d said. You’d heard it. You’d seen it. It happened. He wants.. to kiss you. 

“Do you want me to do that?” he asks, leaning in slightly, his hand rising to cup your cheek. Slower, gentler than last time. 

You let your gaze meet his; regret flooding you immediately. Just as kind and soft as the rest of him, Jay’s eyes stare into yours, warm, and inviting, but, still, you can’t shake off your nerves. More than anything, you want to say yes; to say of course, can’t you tell? but you don’t trust yourself enough to open your mouth and speak to him. Instead, you nod, so slightly that for a moment you wonder if he even noticed. And then, there, in the dim privacy of Mark Lee’s bedroom, while your heart beats out of your chest, Jay kisses you for the first time. 

His lips are warm against yours, the sweet taste of Smirnoff Ice only amplified as he holds you close. Soft, gentle, kissing Jay is everything you’d imagined it would be. You feel as though you might melt under his touch as his hand grabs your waist to pull you closer. So close that you’re nearly in his lap as he deepens the kiss, his tongue moving along yours.

It doesn’t feel real, it can’t be. 

As if thrown by your thoughts, Jay pulls away. While attempting to form a coherent thought, you catch your breath, once again, regretting looking at him. He looks down the bridge of his nose at you with half-lidded eyes, and his pretty, pink lips sit parted, wet and plump from kissing. Jay leans in almost immediately, the moment cut short by his lips on yours once again. 

It’s tangible this time; you couldn’t possibly make up the way his hand grips your ass or the way he groans softly when you whine into his mouth. He’s real, and he’s kissing you, and you only feel yourself growing dizzier, and dizzier the longer his lips move against yours. A gasp pulls you out of it and the two of you separate.

Looking in the direction of the now open door you see Sakura and Mark hand in hand. You can’t help the slight embarrassment that hits you at first, hating that, of all people, it had to be Mark to walk in and find you making out with someone on his bed. 

Though you get a bit distracted seeing him and Sakura like this, they look cute together. His football hoodie covers her form completely, much longer than the dress she has on, as she leans into him, and a giggle slips from her lips when he lets go of her hand to wrap an arm around her waist instead. 

Somewhat belatedly, and needlessly, Mark apologises, his eyes focused on you when he speaks but you can’t get the words out to respond to him. Jay chuckles at this, shaking his head and telling him not to worry about it as he stands up from the bed. You follow suit. Jay picks up your drink from the floor and takes you by the hand, telling Mark he’ll text him later while leading you out of the room. When you glance at Sakura, she’s grinning at you, mouthing: “Sorry,” before smacking your butt. 

Jay hands you the bottle when the door closes, his hand slipping out of yours. A beat passes. And then another. He chews at his bottom lip. You clear your throat and the silence continues. It’s a shame to be standing around like idiots on the landing like this, you think. 

“I..” he trails off, wiping his hands on his pants. He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I should get back to the boys.” 

Your heart sinks as you hesitate, unsure how to respond. Slowly, you nod. “Right, yeah,” you say.

“Later,” he mumbles, holding up his hand to wave stiffly at you before turning around to leave. 

Deflated, you lean against Mark’s door while you search for your phone to ask Yunjin where she is. Maybe if you’d waited for a moment, you’d have seen the way Jay stopped at the top of the stairs to look over at you, seen the frown on his face when he saw that you weren’t looking at him. But instead, you read 2 texts from Yunjin. 

yj: dude heso into u 

yj: flirt more = hv fun upstairs 

You spend the next three days pretending nothing happened at the party, avoiding Jay, and dreading going to uni. It’s just unfortunate that for you, pretending nothing happened looks like zoning out in the library while replaying the kiss in your head until your elbow slips off the desk. And avoiding Jay seems near impossible, given his tendency to show up everywhere. Or rather, your tendency to see Jay in everything. 

Like the tiny little black cat you saw perched on the fence outside your apartment building, and the busker singing Harry Styles in the city centre. And the half-full bottle of Smirnoff Ice from that night that sits on your dresser with your perfume and jewellery, displayed with about as much sentiment as a trophy won at school for a random achievement. 

Impulsively, you post a selfie to your Instagram story before hiding your phone under your pillow and leaving the room entirely, making yourself comfortable atop the kitchen counter and waiting for someone to come back home. 

Chaewon gets home first, and quickly, arriving with a groan as she shrugs her jacket off and shuts the door behind her. “I hate uni,” she mutters. “I hate studying, I ha— Hey.” She jumps a little when she sees you in the kitchen. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, where’ve you been hiding?” 

“My room.” 

She nods, leaning comfortably against the doorframe. “You’re not going out tonight, right?” 

You shake your head, amused by the look of relief that paints Chaewon’s features as she whispers thank God. “I’m gonna shower, and take a nap,” she informs you. “But when I wake up, it’s you, me, pizza, and whatever story Yunjin has from practice.” 

“Can’t wait,” you say sincerely, stepping down from the counter. 

With a wide smile on her face, she salutes you before dragging her feet to the bathroom. Completely endeared, you decide not to comment on the salute even though you think it’s sweet that she’s starting to copy her boyfriend. 

The sounds of student housing on a Wednesday evening seep in through the open window as you pour yourself a glass of water, unable to stop wondering if Jay saw your story; and what he thought about it if he did. Wondering if he’d notice that the picture was from Saturday night. 

Filling up your glass again, you take it to your room and pull your phone out of hiding. Along with a message from Yunjin telling you and Chaewon to order your food so it comes shortly after she gets home, you find that Jay hit like on your story. Then sent a reply ten minutes later saying: you’re sooo gorgeous.

With a smile on your face, you type out various forms of “thank you so much, you’re perfect,” before settling on a simple: thank uuu :D, and Jay’s response is immediate. 

jay: i don’t think i’ve said that before

jay: how prettty i think you are

The heat that rises to your cheeks is troubling, yet despite your best efforts, you can’t get it to pass. Especially not when you read and reread Jay’s message. You press your eyes shut, willing the heat to pass, willing the grin on your face to fade. Neither works, in fact, they only worsen when you open your eyes to see the new messages waiting for you in the chat. 

jay: it’s a lot bte 

jay: *btw 

You let out a romcom-worthy sigh, clutching the phone to your chest and laying down on the bed. A glow-in-the-dark sticker stares back at you from its spot on your ceiling, a single star that you’d won as a set of two at the arcade with Kazuha in December. The memory brings a smile to your face, even though you remember being a little annoyed after she turned down the other star when you tried giving it to her.

Another message from Jay makes your phone vibrate in your hands. 

jay: sorrry 

you: it’s okay 

You tell him. Even though you’re not sure what he’s apologising for. Just like before, Jay reads the message immediately though this time his reply never comes.

With Yunjin now home from practice, and freshly showered, you sit on the couch with your flatmates, talking and laughing over the sound of the TV for hours until Netflix asks if you’re still watching, and Yunjin’s passed out with her cold, wet hair on your shoulder.  

Pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, Chaewon retires to bed, whispering “Goodniiiiiiiiight,” in your ear before abandoning you. Tired as you are, a part of you feels bad about waking Yunjin so you decide to sit a while longer, moving the blanket from your lap to cover her up properly. But of course, this is the movement that wakes her up. 

In a soft voice, you tell her goodnight, standing up from the couch to stretch your arms above your head. 

“You never told me what happened on Saturday,” Yunjin says tiredly. “Kkura told me you and Jay were busy in Mark’s room.” 

The mention of his name takes you back to that night. Back to Jay and the way his lips felt against yours, the way his hand held your waist, and the way he’d ditched you outside Mark’s room. A pit forms in your stomach; and as if reading your mind, Yunjin asks if you’re okay.

You sit down on the other end of the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest and telling the story from top to bottom. After recounting the night in detail from after she left you guys alone, you find yourself hyperaware of the differences between you and Yunjin. For you, the highlight of Saturday night was Jay kissing you and then running away after. 

“Wait, Sakura and who?” she asks when you’re done. 

For Yunjin, the highlight of the story seems to be Mark’s presence. 

“Mark.” 

“She told me she went on her own, what were they doing?” 

Although you have some idea, you think it best to keep your knowledge to yourself. “They were looking for her phone,” you say, pleased to see that Yunjin accepts your answer and moves on. 

“So then what?”

“He texted me hey on Sunday morning, which I ignored, and then a couple hours ago he replied to my story and told me how pretty he thinks I am,” you say, pausing to take a breath. “Then ignored my response.” 

Yunjin sits silently, seeming to take in everything she’d just been told. Her eyes are focused on the TV screen ahead so you look over at it too. It had gone into standby mode, displaying nothing but an indistinct impression of the two of you. 

And the silence continues. 

In the TV’s cast, you can just about make out the way she tilts and then turns her head to look at you. “Maybe he’s just.. frazzled, or something, from being walked in on. How did you feel?” 

The answer takes a while to come up with because for you, the night exists in two parts — Before kissing Jay, and everything else that happened when you left the room. This whole time, you’ve been so focused on him leaving, that you’ve barely given any thought to how you felt when Sakura opened the door. Frazzled, you think. Probably the best word to use. Embarrassed suits a bit better though. 

“I was embarrassed about it, but only because it was Mark. If it had been you, or Chaewon, whoever, it would’ve been different because they’d walk in and go “oh sorry” or something and leave, but obviously, when it’s Mark going into his own room, he’s there for something, you know?” you explain, chewing at your bottom lip.

“Maybe that’s how he feels too.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t embarrassing enough to leave and never talk to him again.” 

Yunjin exhales heavily. “I want to be on your side, really, I do, but isn’t that kinda what you did?” she asks, her voice hesitant as she tilts her head. “He texted you the next day and you didn’t reply, what do you think he’s thinking about right now?” 

“He’s the one who said he should get back to the boys.”

“What if that’s just because he spoke first?” she suggests. “Obviously we don’t know what you would’ve said if you spoke first, because you didn’t, but I feel like you would’ve been like “I-I’m gonna get back to the girls” and ran away.” 

Always correct, Yunjin is your worst enemy and your best friend rolled into one. Oh, how you hate her. Well, she’s correct about the fact that you would have said the same thing. You think. You press your lips together in a straight line and sink into your seat. 

She sighs when you don’t speak. “Look, he talked to you today, and told you how pretty you are, which is a win, right?” 

You nod reluctantly. 

“So let’s celebrate that, celebrate the fact that you kissed Jay! Even better, the fact that he kissed you.” Yunjin pauses, for what you think is dramatic effect, before speaking again. “Just.. don’t sweat the small stuff, okay?” She stops again to yawn. “And text him back if he reaches out, or, text him first.” 

Leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, you brush your teeth, watching as Yunjin does the same, sitting on the edge of the tub with her eyes shut. While gargling mouthwash, you think about the conversation you’ve just had and decide to take matters into your own hands. By pleading with God to put Jay in front of you and have him tell you that he likes you back. 

Once again, the higher powers seem to be on your side. Kind of. Jay does end up in front of you to tell you that he likes you back. Kind of. But only after learning that you’ll have to start your report again; which, given that you’d only gotten through 800 of the required 4000 words, wasn't exactly criminal. It was an irritation that settled in you, mainly, as all of your research and the sources you’d found were now redundant in the face of such adversity. 

Nonetheless, with heavy feet, you leave the lecture hall, trying to come up with a way to fake your graduation ceremony next year so you can secretly drop out. You draw a blank and find Jay waiting in line at the vending machine near the library’s entrance. 

Even though you’d spoken with her on Tuesday night, here, today, on Friday afternoon, Yunjin’s words echo so clearly in your mind you almost want to peer over your shoulder to see if she’s there. You do. She isn’t. 

Your formerly heavy feet lead you right over to Jay, who greets you with a smile. “How’s the report coming?” he asks, his tone light, easygoing, and clearly oblivious to the fact that his question strikes you like a knife to the gut. 

The two of you shuffle forward slightly, now at the front of the queue. Waiting for your response, he punches E6 into the machine that rattles loudly, delivering his bottle of Lipton lemon. 

“Not great,” you tell him, feigning nonchalance and watching as he presses E4 before squatting down to collect both drinks. “Are you heading to class?” 

Standing up straight, Jay holds out the new(er) bottle of Lipton peach towards you. “What happened?” 

Holding the drink in your hands, you fall into step with him and sigh despite yourself. “I have to start over.” 

Jay’s eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly at your words. Dramatic. Cute. “Nooo,” he says sincerely. “How come?”

“I read the question wrong.”

“Oh,” he says. “That’s okay, at least you found out now rather than later. And you still have until December to get it done, that’s almost two months! I’m sure most people haven’t even read the question,” he tells you in a gentle voice. 

There’s a fuzziness in your chest, and Jay’s words make you feel like everything will be alright. Even though you weren’t exactly cut up about the report, something about talking with him about it leaves you feeling soothed when you look up to give him a warm smile.

“I don’t have classes today, I’m just here to study,” he says, answering your earlier question as he leads you to a table. 

You watch as Jay sits down, and decide to take a seat across from him, dumping your bag on the floor at your feet. His brows quirk up when you put the drink down on his side of the table, confusion evident in his voice when he says: “You don’t like peach tea anymore?” 

All of a sudden your heart is pounding, and you grin despite yourself. Oh, Jay, you think. “It’s my favourite.” 

Matching your smile Jay slides the bottle over to you. “It’s yours,” he says.

You can’t explain the overwhelming sense of gratitude you feel over a barely cold, 500ml bottle of tea, but it beams brightly on the table between you; radiant, glowy, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. “Thank you,” you say sincerely in a soft voice, lest you knock the bottle out of its haze. 

The deepest part of your brain romanticises the scene around you even further, and the table you sit at, in the smallest library on campus, starts to seem like something from a kid’s storybook. From a mythical land where the iced tea is luminescent, and you get to study with an angel who wears Chrome Hearts pants and olive green 6s.

“Can I read it when you’re done?” His question cuts through your thoughts. Surprised by how genuine Jay sounds, you glance back over at him to find him already looking at you, his lips pushed up into a soft smile that spreads flutters around your chest.

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to realise what he’s talking about, but you tilt your head when you do. “You wanna read my paper on wind turbines and solar farms?” you ask. 

Jay’s eyes widen briefly as if shocked that you’re even asking him that. “Of course I do,” he says, sounding almost offended, defensive maybe. 

You eye him from across the table, sceptical. Jay seems to pick up on this. “Why wouldn’t I want to know about the UN’s advances towards net zero by 2030?” he asks, chuckling to himself when you raise a brow. He shrugs. “I got curious after you mentioned it.” 

With burning cheeks, you watch him as he continues to talk, neither of you making any effort to start on the work you’re there to do. As much as you feel it’d be useful to get work done in the library — because it’ll allow you to go home and do nothing without guilt — you don’t see the point in half-assing your research and absentmindedly chatting with Jay, when you could ditch the research completely and fixate over the way his lips move to form his words. 

“I lost my student card so I need to read while I’m in here. I think it’s better though; easier to stay focused, less distractions,” Jay tells you when you ask what brought him to uni just to study alone. “Usually,” he adds, gaze flicking up to meet yours with a teasing smile crossing his lips.

Jay’s words hold a flirtatious undertone that isn’t lost on you or the butterflies that take flight in your stomach. “I’m not a distraction,” you say, frowning slightly. 

“I never said you were, but I had no problem getting my work done until you got here.” 

Jay’s words remind you of your first test for Property Law in February. The two of you sat together at a table in the campus cafe, empty mugs and printed slides scattered across the space between you. For four hours, you highlighted sentences and rewrote notes to keep your hands busy until Jay walked you back to your flat, where you pulled an all-nighter so you could actually study. You got a 61 and slept for twelve hours afterwards. 

“If it’s getting to you that much, I can go,” you offer, really, really, hoping he doesn’t take you up on it.

“No, please stay. I like spending time with you,” Jay admits with a slight downturn at the corners of his lips. 

You try to work out how to echo his sentiment without sounding like a lovestruck fool, though you draw a blank, distracted by the way he– “Are you batting your lashes at me?” you ask through a chuckle.

Jay squints. “Is it working?” 

You shake your head. 

“Well, neither are you,” he points out, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that almost makes you feel scolded despite his light tone. You think you like it. 

An overly dramatic sigh huffs its way out of your mouth as you roll your eyes at him, fighting a smile at the sound of his breathy laughter. “Whatever. Starting now, I’ll work on my paper. You focus on your reading, no distractions,” you suggest.

“Right, no distractions,” Jay repeats, his eyes falling to your lips. 

Sticking to your word proves much easier than you’d initially thought and you manage to sit, mostly undistracted, for more than a little while, putting the paragraphs that can stay in italics, the bits that need to be amended in bold, and deleting the rest. 

Your workflow is broken only when Jay speaks softly, “Is it cool if Heeseung works with us?” he asks, sending a text after you tell him that it’s okay. 

And as if he’d been waiting around the corner, Heeseung shows up seconds later. “Jongseongieeeeee,” he coos when he sees Jay, extending a hand to pat his head and ruffle his hair. 

Unable to hide his irritation, Jay’s face scrunches up at the interaction and in an attempt to stop the sudden attack, he grabs Heeseung by the wrist, seeming shocked when it works. You watch him fix his hair in his phone camera. 

In the same playful tone, Heeseung says your name too, sitting down in the seat next to Jay. “I feel like I haven’t seen you since the hockey mixer.” 

You can’t help the breathy laugh that comes out at the cute pout on his lips. “Because you haven’t seen me since the hockey mixer,” you say, smiling at Jay when you notice him looking at you. 

“You weren’t at the football party, were you?” Heeseung asks, his eyes widening right when the words leave his mouth. “Riiiiiiiight, you were.” He mumbles to himself before covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m just..” he trails off, pointing at his laptop with his index finger before opening it and sinking in his seat. 

There’s a nasty pit forming in your stomach while you watch Heeseung all but disappear behind his screen. And in the black screen of your laptop, you stare at yourself, pretending that: 1. The fingerprints and smudges don’t bother you, and 2. That you don’t notice the way Jay’s looking at you. Or rather, the fact that Jay’s looking at you. If you’d noticed the way he was looking at you, you might have picked up on the softness of his gaze. But you didn't, so you don’t. 

Instead, the fact that Jay’s watching you only makes you feel worse. Though at least it looks like your hair is sitting nicely today, you think, glad to have at least one thing working for you rather than against you. Like the pit in your stomach, or the Lipton peach that tastes like nothing when you take the first sip.

In the presence of Heeseung - and the things he said - the three of you manage to get on with your work, free of conversation. 

Reluctantly, you let the two boys walk you back to your place when you’re ready to go home. Heeseung leads the conversation, thankfully, with no more mention of the football party and even hugs you goodbye while Jay watches from a few feet away. Judging by the expression on his face, you’d think the person he’d liked for months kissed him and then ran away. 

“Sorry,” Heeseung whispers, pressing his lips into a straight line. 

With your key in the lock, you watch as they retreat, Heeseung nudging Jay when he reaches him and mumbling something that you can’t quite make out. Neither of the girls are home when you get inside and, sprawling out on the couch, you look for your phone to make plans. 

you: we should go out tn

cw: tmrw ! i have a deadline

yj: broke friday or .. j*emins party 

Too broke for broke Friday, the two of you find yourselves stepping over the legs of a sleeping Sunghoon to reach the open door to Jeno and Jaemin’s apartment. There are people everywhere, including the hall outside, but you suppose this is the benefit of student housing; none of your neighbours can complain about noise because they’re too busy being part of the commotion. 

Jake almost spills his drink when he sees you both, saying “heyyyyy,” with a giggle and eyes that linger on Yunjin while he talks though he quickly excuses himself to take water to poor Sunghoonie. 

The night is largely uneventful, much the same as every other night out you’ve had since starting college. Except for the part where Jay shows up,a massive grin on his face to greet your friends. Sakura, Yunjin, and Kazuha all get a “hey” and a brief hug. Jay regards you with a nod and a small smile. At least Kazuha seems to believe you when you tell her that you’re crying in Jaemin’s bathroom because you hate your outfit.

After a weekend of self-pity, you spend Monday at a coffee shop with Sakura, watching as she studi—“You could at least pretend to study, you know?” she sighs. “Every time I look up you’re either staring at me or using your phone, it’s distracting.” 

With a frown on your face, you touch your mug to see if your coffee is cool enough to drink yet — it’s not — before flipping your notebook to a blank page and trying to write out some of the key points that you remember from Friday’s lecture. A part of you feels bad for neglecting your Architectural Practice class but it’s just not as interesting, and you tell yourself that you’ll dedicate all of your time to it after finishing your report. You definitely will not come to regret leaving three months worth of work to the very last minute. 

You study with Sakura for a few hours until deciding that you simply cannot continue, and the two of you leave the cafe in favour of a Mcdonald’s drive-thru, eating your dinner in the dark parking lot before she drops you off.

On Tuesday night, you’re thankful that Yunjin and Kazuha don’t push you to go out with them when you say you’re tired, but when Netflix asks if you’re still watching Modern Family at almost 3 a.m., you wish they had. 

You push yourself out of bed to do your skincare, and hear the two girls coming back home as you apply your last pimple patch. After Kazuha all but yells something about a huge pair of shoes by the door, it seems like they settle in the kitchen. 

They’re sharing a bowl of cereal at the table when you get there. Feeling bad, you make instant noodles for them while Yunjin hugs you from behind. Both of you try your best to laugh quietly at Kazuha’s story about some box blond figure skater who completely blanked her when she tried flirting despite staring at her all night.

Once the food is ready, you sit up on the counter, watching them eat straight from the pot. Trying to talk to those two while they’re so invested in dinner is a waste of energy so you busy yourself on your phone instead, scrolling aimlessly until both girls kiss you on the cheek to thank you for looking after them. Kazuha gratefully drinks the glass of water you give her, and Yunjin, as you expect, is stubborn about it; taking three small sips before running away to her room. 

The argument you can hear through the open window keeps you entertained as you wash the dishes, and you check your phone on the way to your room, finding two texts from Jay. 

jay: i know it’s late but can we talk in person if you’re up

jay: it’ s important

They came in four minutes ago and you chew on your lip trying to figure out what he wants to talk about. 

you: are you okay?

jay: can you come outside 

With not even enough time to hit send on the three question marks you’d typed out, the distinct ring of a FaceTime call surprises you. Though what you find more surprising is the sight of your building’s door behind Jay’s face which just about fills the screen. Lit dramatically by an orange street light, he looks beautiful. Looks cute when his lips pout slightly around the words: come quickly and dress warm, as he successfully convinces you to leave the comfort of your bed.

Through the glass in the main door, you see him. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he looks up towards the sky and puffs visible breaths into the air above him. Jay turns around at the sound of the door opening. You feel your stomach lurch because he doesn’t smile when he sees you. 

“Hey,” he says after a while, watching you intently, inspecting almost, as you shut the door softly behind you. His face softens, the smile he hadn’t given earlier coming through now. “Are you wearing my jacket?” His voice is soft too when he speaks, breathy enough for the smell of alcohol and vague peppermint to hit your nose. 

“I thought I should probably give it back,” you nod. “Sorry I kept it so long.”

Jay shakes his head, hair shifting on his forehead from the motion. “No, I love it on you. Please keep it,” he pauses, taking a step towards you. “I want you to keep it.” 

Thank God, you think. You hadn’t really been meaning to give it back, and you weren’t really sorry to have kept it so long, it just felt like the right thing to say. 

The space between you is so small that you wonder if he can hear the way your heart rate starts to pick up. In the time you hadn’t talked, you’d seen him around campus, in the corners of story posts, but seeing him here in front of you is almost overwhelming. A gust of wind ruffles the jacket Jay has on and his scent unfurls right under your nose; warm, lived in, mixed with faint sweat and what you think might be tobacco. It creates a musk that leaves you weak at the knees.

“It was milk and cookies night,” Jay continues when you don’t respond, digging into his pocket and holding a plastic-wrapped cookie out towards you. “You like white chocolate chip, right?” 

Hearing that it was milk and cookies night makes you wonder if you’d been too hasty when you turned down the girls’ invitation. 

Despite the cold, Jay’s hand is warm when your fingers graze his. Letting your touch linger, you thank him sincerely, touched by the little things he seems to remember about you. 

Even though you’re aware of the other students coming home from various nights out, and end up having to move out of the way so some of them can enter your building, it feels like the two of you are in your own world. You notice that his sights are locked on the cookie, on the spot where your fingers touch, allowing you to admire him freely. 

Standing almost directly under the lamppost now, you notice that his cheeks and the tips of his ears are dusted with red. You feel a little bad, he must be freezing, you think. Your gaze falls to his lips that sit parted, chapped like you expect, and now you’re thinking of kissing him. 

Clearing his throat, Jay moves his hand from yours to put it in his pocket. You do the same. 

“I know I said I wanted to talk, but I just wanted to see you,” he says, looking you right in the eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d come if I said that.” 

You frown, wondering if this whole time he’s been avoiding you because he thought you didn’t want to see him. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Jay only shrugs in response. 

From over your shoulder, you hear the door opening. Jay’s eyes flicker in its direction. You turn your head to look too. A boy with pink hair frowns when both of you tell him you don’t have the lighter he’d been looking to borrow. 

“I’m sorry about leaving after we kissed. And for avoiding you. That was stupid,” Jay says as soon as the door closes. “It was childish of me to do that instead of just telling you how I feel. I wasn’t gonna say anything, because I know you only see me as a friend, but I have to let you know that I like you, a lot.” 

You stand around limply for a beat, staring up at Jay and trying to take in every single detail about this moment before you inevitably wake up. But this ‘dream’ doesn’t cut off where you’d been expecting it to. Instead, you feel your heart thudding against your ribs, your stomach flipping. The only thing you can get yourself to do is blink at the boy in front of you. The boy who likes you. 

A lot.

“It’s just that, after Heeseung said that shit in the library and you couldn’t even look at me, I knew I didn’t have a chance with you and I just.. am trying to figure out how to be near you and pretend like I don’t want to drop everything and kiss you.” 

“What’s stopping you?” you ask, surprised that your voice even comes out properly.

Jay’s gaze drops to your lips. Without noticing, the two of you had gotten so close that your chests are barely an inch apart; they’d probably touch if either of you took just one deep inhale. A beat passes. His gaze flicks up to meet yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You want to kiss him. You must. Right when you start to lean up towards him, to put your lips on his, he steps back. 

“Fuck,” Jay mumbles, his brows knitting together as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” 

The ability to hold his liquor is something that Jay sees as both a blessing and a curse. 

On the bright side, he can drink as much as he wants and won’t say or do anything he wouldn’t say or do when sober. His delivery might be a little off when he’s drunk but the point still stands.

On the not-so-bright, catastrophically dim side, however, Jay wakes up the morning after drinking with a vivid memory of everything that happened to him at whatever party he’d been to. Plus a killer migraine. 

And so, since drunkenly showing up at your place with a cookie in his pocket and his heart on his sleeve two weeks ago, Jay’s been quietly pitying himself and gently encouraging Jake to work harder on physics so he can get some sort of time machine up and running. 

Though it seems like you’ve been able to go on as normal. So normal, in fact, that Jay starts to believe the whole thing was just an elaborate dream. So elaborate that when he scrolls through your text thread, he finds the messages that you’d ‘exchanged’ that night. He finds the thought of having developed self-awareness in a two-week-long dream to be a greater comfort than the reality that you don’t like him back. 

You would have said if you did. Right? Or at least brought up what he’d said. Asked if you could talk about it. You’d be so excited to see him again, sober, that you wouldn’t even be able to say anything except: “I like you too!” Right? 

But you haven’t. So unless you’re going through trauma-inflicted amnesia, or someone has finally come up with the technology to invent The Neuralyzer, you really don’t like him back.

Jay had been so sure, certain that you liked him back. It just seemed so obvious; like the way you seemed to find him at every party, and how anytime you saw Jake in the engineering block you’d ask about him. Surely it wasn’t all in his head. The way that Chaewon and Yunjin had been teasing you at the hockey mixer, and how Yunjin made up that excuse to leave the two of you alone at the football party. It was all so.. like-y.  

Even today, when you texted him asking to hang out. He was sure that you were finally (finally!) going to tell him you liked him too. So sure, he’d even told the boys that he’d be coming back home as someone’s boyfriend. As your boyfriend. 

But instead, Jay finds himself climbing the stairs of his apartment complex wondering how the fuck he’d been so delusional. In his back pocket, his phone vibrates. Twice. Texts; both from you. 

you: i forgot to say but lmk when u get home lol

you: and if u have time to hang out before ur game tmrw !

His heart twists in his chest as he reads your messages. 

jay: okayyyyyyyyyyyyy, i can chill for a bit

jay: what did you have in mind? 

After fishing his house key from his jacket, he twists it in the lock and crosses the threshold before texting you once more: home now :). You heart the message immediately. The laughter that Jay could hear in the hall quiets as soon as he closes the door, and heavy footsteps thud towards the living room’s open doorway. Sunghoon. 

“It’s Mr YN YL—” he stops short. “Oh.” It’s not until Sunghoon looks over his shoulder and shakes his head that Jay even notices the stupid shutter shades he’s wearing. And when Jay joins his friends in the living room, he smiles despite himself seeing the way they’d decorated the space. Streamers dangle from the ceiling, hand-drawn A4 posters with both of your names written in lopsided hearts are stuck to the wall, and Jay ignores the thought of losing the security deposit to appreciate his friends; they’re good to him. 

On the way to his usual seat, an armchair in the corner of the room, Jay stops to wrestle a bottle of Desperados from the open six back sitting atop the coffee table and kicks a balloon that was in his path before sinking into his chair. 

Knowing there’s no use giving them a play-by-play, Jay recounts the last few hours as briefly as he can. He makes sure to leave out small details; like how he felt weak at the knees when you hugged him and told him you loved him after he won you a Hello Kitty plushie from the claw machine that you swore was rigged. Or how you’d worn his jacket out and his heart started racing when he noticed that your perfume had started to mix with his cologne. Unexpectedly, the guys seem hooked on the story right until its end. “So it’s not like it went badly or anything, I just.. didn’t tell her.”

Somehow, all three of them speak at the same time: “What do you mean you didn’t tell her?” 

Jay stares at a spot on the floor, noticing a hole in the toe of Jake’s sock. He’ll make fun of that later. “I just couldn’t get the words out,” he mumbles, shoulders drooping as he slumps further and further into his seat before taking the first sip of his bitter drink a—“Fuck, why does anybody drink these?” 

“Cheap,” Sunghoon mumbles, scowling after sipping from his own.

Clearly.

“Unless I’m missing something, this doesn’t seem like the end of the world. Just tell her tomorrow, tell her now, text her,” Heeseung sighs, letting his eyes fall shut. 

The other two boys seem to agree, echoing the sentiment and adding their own ad libs to it. Jay watches as Sunghoon leans over to get another drink from the table, admiring his commitment to beer drinking even though he doesn’t like it. He waits for silence before speaking again: “I already know she doesn’t like me that way. And it’s only been two weeks so it doesn’t make sense to confess again so soon when I know the answer.” 

“Again?” Sunghoon asks, raising a brow. 

Ahhh, Jay knew there was something he’d forgotten to do. Though he's struggling to figure out how he’d withheld this information, considering it was the main thing on his mind at all hours. “Yeah, after milk and cookies I went to hers and told her I like her,” he says, attempting to feign nonchalance, shoulders rising and falling in a stiff shrug.

“And you kept that to yourself because..” 

Jay scrunches up his nose, genuinely unsure. “I didn’t go there to confess, I just wanted to see her and give her the cookie I got for her,” he admits. “But then she came outside, and she had my jacket on, and she just looked so pretty. The only thing on my mind was oh, my God, I can’t go any longer without telling you I’m in love with you.” Jay pauses, taking a long sip of beer before telling them what happened outside your building. 

As if he wasn’t feeling bad enough already, Heeseung bursts out laughing. Hard. It’s not long before Jake and Sunghoon join in and Jay wants to vanish into thin air. Feeling slightly left out, he also wants to ask what’s so funny, but the fear of being slated holds him back. 

It’s the eldest who calms down first, sitting up straight in his seat. “So you go to YN’s door, tell her you like her, almost kiss her, then explicitly tell her not to say she likes you back, run away from her, again, and you’re wondering why she didn’t say she likes you back?”

With the story being laid out so simply, Jay starts to see the flaws in his logic. Though too stubborn to admit that he’s wrong in front of Jake, he nods his head. “Exactly.” 

He presses his lips into a straight line when the boys call him chronically stupid. 

“You need to call her, talk to her, figure your shit out before it’s too late,” Heeseung says with a firm tone. 

Jay thinks about it, biting at his bottom lip before replying, asking in a small voice: “But what if she says she doesn’t like me?” 

As much as not having confirmation is killing him, there’s a part of Jay that likes not knowing how you feel about him because it lets him play into his delusions. Lets him feed himself with thoughts of you being excited to see him because you like him and not because he makes great platonic company. The thought of you checking up on him through Jake because you’ve been thinking about him, but feel too shy to ask directly. And Jay knows when you properly reject him, he won’t be comforted by such thoughts anymore. They’ll only hurt him. 

Though after hearing what may be the wisest thing he thinks Sunghoon has ever said, Jay starts to see the situation a little differently. It’s casual. Spoken through a yawn. “You already don’t have a girlfriend. Nothing to lose, right?” 

The walk to your apartment building is longer than he remembers, but the cool air feels good on his neck as he tries to figure out what exactly he should say. Jay only starts to consider that this may not be the best idea when he stands face to face with your apartment building and feels a little too nervous to buzz your flat. What is he doing? 

A grating screech comes from the heavy door when it opens, and Chaewon’s boyfriend steps outside with squinted eyes. “Jay?” he asks as the door thuds shut behind him. “YN didn’t say you were coming over.” 

An awkward chuckle slips from Jay’s lips and (for the first time in his life) he does jazz hands. “Surprise?”

Jay feels better when Jeno’s lips spread into a grin. “Ohhhh,” he says, nodding and extending an almost empty deck of cigarettes in his direction. 

“I’m good,” Jay declines, shaking his head. 

Though if things go poorly up there he might have to take Jeno up on his offer. 

Holding his cigarette between his lips, Jeno uses a fob to open the door for him, and Jay can’t help but feel comforted by the way Jeno pats him on the back and says: “I’m rooting for you.” 

Standing at the door to your apartment only unleashes a new sense of nervousness. His hand rests on it, balled into a fist, waiting to be pulled back. But something stops him. Jay lets his hand slip down the door and takes a step away from it. He’d been standing too close. Now, he stands shifting his weight from foot to foot, and the toes of his shoes are just touching the doormat. 

Reminding himself that knocking isn’t the hard part, Jay takes a deep breath and knocks three times. 

A few minutes pass and it’s now that he remembers he doesn’t even know for sure that you’re home, or awake. He counts ten seconds before knocking again and the second his fist touches the door, he hears the sound of a lock clicking and the door creaks open. 

Like something from a dream, you stand in the doorway, looking so beautiful with his hoodie on that Jay has to put in effort to keep his jaw from falling to the ground. 

“Jay?” you say quietly, brows furrowed. “Is everything alright?” 

“Do you like me?” Jay blurts out, pressing his eyes shut immediately as all plans of a proper conversation go to the wind. From his spot on your doormat, he can hear the sound of the TV quieting and a terrible silence settles over the two of you; lasting eight whole seconds before you speak. 

“Do you wanna come in?”

Jay steps into the apartment, taking off his shoes at the door while mumbling a greeting to Yunjin and Chaewon who (definitely heard him) lay on the couch with wide grins on their faces, and follows you to your room where you close the door behind him. 

“Sorry, I had, like, a speech ready and then I saw you and I just..” he trails off, standing awkwardly near the door and looking at everything in the room except for you; he struggles to tear his eyes away from a polaroid picture of the two of you with huge grins. It’s only when you talk that he manages to look over at you instead. 

“You can sit down,” you say, patting a spot on the bed next to you. Without saying anything, Jay crosses the room to sit beside you — if sitting at arm’s length can be considered as beside you. “Tell me about the speech,” you say, and Jay shakes his head while trying to convince himself that your chuckle isn’t patronising. 

“Do you like me?” he asks again, not wanting to waste any more time. 

“I like you.” 

Your words, simple and quiet, leave Jay winded. 

“You look surprised,” you say, tilting your head. “You really didn’t know?”

Immediately, he relaxes his face. Clears his throat. Jay’s not entirely sure what he did and didn’t know, but he doesn’t think it matters. Nothing could possibly matter more than you do right now. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, letting out a sigh of relief. “I like you too.” The words sound regular when he says them, though he does like the lightness in his chest knowing for sure that the feeling is mutual. “Can you say it again?”

“Jay,” you start, resting your hand on his knee. Jay wonders if this is supposed to comfort him and clasps his hands over his lap as discreetly as he can manage. “I like you,” you tell him again.

Under the weight of your words, Jay feels his heart cinch a little in his chest. Why does everything sound so perfect coming from you? He can’t help but lean in, finally kissing you after what feels like an eternity. Jay didn’t think anything would feel better than your first kiss, but having your lips move softly against his, and knowing that you like him back, might just be the best thing ever. How did he go so long without this? Dazed and lovestruck, he lets his forehead rest against yours to calm down, to catch his breath. “Again?” he whispers, hopeful, one step away from begging.

You let out a chuckle, soft, breathy, fanning his lips. “I like you,” you say after a while, quietly, a whisper, just for him before kissing him again.

Jay’s not sure when it happened, he’s not even sure he notices that you’re sitting in his lap until you grind down on him; the feeling overwhelming despite all of the layers between you. A whine slips from your mouth into his when he rolls his hips up towards yours, and he can’t help but hate himself a bit for not just confessing sooner. 

You pull away from him, a smile on your face as he chases your kiss. “Please touch me,” you whisper, hiding your face in his neck when he chuckles at your request, calling you cute under his breath.

He feels oddly thankful that you’re not grinding on him any longer because he was about two more movements away from cumming in his pants. His hand slips under your shorts, finding your clit and pressing on it through your underwear, liking the way your breath fans his skin when you sigh. The wet patch on the fabric only starts to spread when he starts rubbing you. “You like that?” 

“Yeah,” you tell him on an exhale, letting your hips roll against his hand, whimpering at the friction. 

Your mouth quickly finds his again, and you let your hand clutch at his shirt, balling it up in your first before tugging at it, parting to take it off of him. With wide eyes, you gape at his torso, the word “Shit,” falling from your mouth while you let a hand rest on his stomach. 

When he tries pushing your panties to the side, the soaked material sticks to your slit slightly, and Jay groans despite himself. You’re absolutely drenched in slick, sopping wet to the core as you let out a broken whine from the feeling of his finger slipping into you. Curling his finger towards your belly button, his eyes fall shut, cock throbbing against his thigh when he thinks about how you’d feel around his shaft, how you’d look under him.

“You’re so good,” you whisper, awestruck and trembling in his lap.

The way you watch him makes him feel a little under pressure when he opens his eyes, but, determined to make you feel good, Jay attaches his thumb to your clit and everything is so slick that his finger slips around a bit before he can help it. You squirm in his lap, your head falling forward into the crook of his neck, forcing Jay to hiss when you bite on the skin of his shoulder. Your whimpers turn into cries and you mumble that you’re close, your walls tensing around him a moment later as if to prove your point. 

Jay pulls his fingers out, holding back a moan at the way they glisten in the light, coated in you— “Nooo,” you whine, sounding audibly distraught. 

Though he’s too busy tasting your cunt on his fingers to grace you with a response. In the quiet of the room, you sit up properly to look at him, watching with parted lips as Jay sucks on his fingers, humming at the way you taste. You barely give him a chance to put his hand back down before pressing your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

Getting a tight grip on your waist, he moves around a bit to lay you down on the bed. Resting on his forearm, Jay leans over you, kissing you again. He lets his hand trail down your body, liking the way you spread your legs when he dips his fingers into your waistband. You nod eagerly when he asks if he can take them off, and his cock throbs when you tell him to take your panties off too. 

With no unnecessary fabric in his way, his finger drags up and down the length of your pussy. Already close, it doesn’t take long for you to start whimpering and squirming underneath him, your walls stuttering once again as you cum, hot and hard on his hand. 

Ever the gentleman, Jay stands up to place himself between your legs, groaning at the sight of you, pulsing and wet. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says. Deciding not to waste another second, he uses his thumbs to spread your lips a little before burying his face in your cunt. 

It doesn’t take much for you to writhe under his tongue, and as soon as he kisses your clit it’s a wrap. He feels his cock leaking a little when your clit starts to throb between his lips, and he can’t help but groan when you tug at his hair. 

You stutter through the words: “Too much,” and Jay tears his mouth away from you, letting his forehead rest on your inner thigh while he catches his breath, savouring your taste on his tongue. It doesn’t last long though; your scent drives him crazy. When Jay leans back over your face, he presses kisses to your cheek, mumbling to you about how pretty you are, and how good you taste, all while playing with the drawstrings of your hoodie. 

He likes the way it looks on you, way better than it does on him. Likes it so much, he almost objects when you sit up to pull it over your head. Jay’s glad he doesn’t. He gulps at the sight of your breasts, surprised to see that you weren’t wearing anything under his hoodie, his dick somehow growing harder just from looking at you. 

Jay feels an intense desperation to suck on them, but your hands reach back up to his face, pulling him towards you to kiss him again. He settles (ecstatically) for holding one in his hand, pinching your nipple with his fingers. He’s relaxed, he’s happy; not torn up about it because he has all the time in the world to feel your tits in his mouth. 

He thinks. 

Jay pulls away from you. “Wait,” he says, feeling butterflies when you smile up at him. “Can I be your boyfriend?”

Your giggle sounds like music and he feels warm all over when you say, “Of course,” the words somewhat muffled by his lips on yours again, he could make out with you all day. But he stops for a moment, looking down at you, into your eyes and revelling in this moment. Revelling in you, his girlfriend, and the way you look at him. Like he put the stars in the sky or moved mountains; like you want him just as much as he’s wanted you all this time. And he wonders what he’s done to deserve it. 

Overwhelmed by emotion, Jay kisses you, lets his tongue run along the seam of your lips as he considers just kissing you for the rest of the night. It almost seems like he’s trying to, and you speak once more against his mouth. 

“Are you gonna fuck me?” you ask, moving your head to the side. “It’s okay if you’re not, but I’d like to know.” 

Jay smirks at you — pretty cocky for a guy whose dick is throbbing against his thigh just from hearing you talk. “You want that?”

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding. “Need it.” Your gaze burns into his as he tries to process your words. You look distractingly beautiful with a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, lidded eyes, and kiss-plumped lips that you press up against his once more. “There’s condoms in the second drawer.”

Leaning up off of you, Jay reaches into his back pocket to show off the two condoms he’d brought with him.

“Classy,” you tease, though there’s an excitement in your eyes that drives him mad. 

“Responsible,” he corrects, standing up to pull his pants and underwear down. Slapping against his stomach, his cock throbs when he hears you gasp. Jay lifts his head in your direction, trying not to cum on the spot from the sight of you leaning up on your elbows, staring at his dick with an open mouth. 

Taking a deep breath, Jay reminds himself that he has all the time in the world to find out what your pretty lips will feel like around him, choosing to busy himself with putting the condom on instead. “How do you want it?” 

If the way you stop and stammer through the word “However” is anything to go by, the question seems to catch you off guard. Making his way back over to you, Jay racks his brain trying to figure out how he wants this to go, but seeing you on your back with your legs spread for him makes it clear. He hovers over you, lips drawn to yours like a magnet, using his hand to run the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, all while you whine against his mouth every time he pushes past your clit. 

“Don’t want to wait any longer.”

Your words make his stomach turn. He pulls away, his brows knitted together. “How long have you been waiting?” 

“Months, Jay,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, eyes screwed shut in a tortured expression. “Please.” 

Satisfied with your answer, Jay guides his cock to your slit. Pushes just a little. “I won’t make you wait like that again,” he tells you, and he means it, pushing in as much as he can before you cry out. 

Worried, Jay stops, leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek. “You okay?” 

“I just need a sec,” you tell him breathlessly.

Jay nods. As good as he feels, quitting while he’s ahead seems like the better option at the minute — he needs a sec too, but with the way your walls clench around him, it doesn’t really feel like much has changed. He finds himself having to hold his hips back after a while, as you get used to the feeling of him inside, your pretty little cunt starts trying to suck him in and his breath hitches in his throat when you look him in the eye. 

With a hand on the back of his neck, you pull his face back down to yours. “I’m good,” you mumble into his ear. 

“Yeah?” he asks, grinning when you nod in response. 

You stretch around him so easily that Jay whines as you take him in, deeper and deeper, inch by inch until he bottoms out. “Shit,” he mutters. How did he go so long without this? The sting of your nails digging into his bicep makes him hiss and he all but passes out when you moan. Falling from your mouth on a loop with every move he makes, his name is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard; you cut yourself off with a gasp, breath hitching in your throat.

“There?” Jay asks, even though he knows he’s hitting your spot. 

You look up at him through fluttering eyelids, becoming more and more dazed each time his hips smack yours. “Mhm, I—close,” you mumble. 

Jay takes this as a sign to hike your leg up around his waist, making sure to hit it each time he pumps into you. It seems like it’s working. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispers, using his free hand to push some of your hair out of your face. 

Your whines turn into broken sobs and you hide your face in the pillow next to you, muffling your screams. Although he thinks your consideration for your flatmates is coming a bit late, he leaves you be, finding the sight sexier than he cares to admit. 

Sexier still is the way your body tenses before squirming again, your walls pulsing uncontrollably around him while you cum. Jay’s stomach starts to tighten as he fucks you, spurred on by the look on your face as you orgasm, and the sound of his cock filling you up. With a few more thrusts and a jagged moan, he spills his load into the condom, just about collapsing on top of you. 

Considering how fucked out and sleepy you’d been while Jay cleaned you up, he isn’t surprised to find you fast asleep when he gets back from cleaning himself. He does his best to join you in bed as softly as possible but it’s no use because you wake with a large yawn, making his heartache from a weird mixture of guilt and how cute you look. 

He lays on his back, grinning to himself when you rest your head on his chest, making yourself comfy with an arm and leg slung over him. You talk drowsily about watching The Devil Wears Prada in full after his game tomorrow and nod eagerly when he asks if you want to wear one of his jerseys to come and watch him play. Jay keeps his eyes shut until he hears you snoring faintly, and looks forward to teasing you about it in the morning.

When he stares straight ahead at your ceiling, a fuzzy feeling rises in his chest. “I put my star on the ceiling too,” he whispers, knowing you can’t hear him, but feeling happy nonetheless.

Huddled up under Jay’s jacket, you sit on the half wall outside the football house with Chaewon, watching as Jeno blows smoke from his super king over his shoulder. Though given the way that the wind blows it back in your faces, the two of you may as well have taken him up on his offer to share. 

Letting Chaewon rest her head on your shoulder, you take a sip of your drink and feel thankful to the version of you from five minutes ago who let Jay fill your cup with lemonade instead of vodka. The two of you laugh along with Jeno until you see Yunjin rushing out of the double doors and into the garden. 

“Is there anything wrong with my outfit?” she asks, giving the three of you a twirl so you can check and mumbling a “thank you” to Jeno who reaches his arm out to stop her from falling over in the process. 

Yunjin’s outfit looks fine. At first. Until you notice the massive hole in the left side of her skirt; the sight of which leaves you and Chaewon wiping tears of laughter. Through cackles and a slight stomach ache, you manage to ask what happened. 

“I got caught on something, like, an hour ago, and I wasn’t hurt or anything so I forgot about it, and then I went out front and felt the craziest breeze on my thigh and I looked down and.. half of my skirt is just.. missing,” she explains, pausing only to take a draw from Jeno’s cigarette. “Does it look intentional at least?” 

You almost choke on your drink when Chaewon suggests using her acrylics to make an identical hole on the side, telling her to market the holes as “cutouts” and try selling it on Depop. 

“Vintage, Y2K, I.AM.GIA, Destiny’s Child, Britney Spears,” she says, although she’s had so much to drink that it all comes out as one word. “Don’t laugh at me, write it down! Babe, quick, take pictures!” 

Yunjin poses dramatically while Jeno takes product photos on her phone, and in the space between them, through the double doors, you see your boyfriend standing next to the dining table, his friends laughing around him while he stares over in your direction with a sweet smile on his face. 

And even though you can’t say for sure, you’re just glad that here, tonight, you have a pretty good idea of why Park Jongseong’s smiling at you.

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#jay smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios #jay x reader #jay park smut #jay park #jay park x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #jay oneshots #jay imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.jay

[batsythoughts]

As the next installment, here is Yandere! Bruce Wayne with baby trapping!

Warnings: Possessive tendencies, manipulative behavior and actions, dubious consent, forced pregnancy (obviously)

Smut under the cut. Minors please do not interact with this post.

Your whole relationship with Bruce had started out completely innocent without him even being aware of how possessive he would become

You both met through a mutual associate and had gotten along fairly well so he asked you out for a date

The two of you went on 5 dates before Bruce finally expressed the idea of being official to one another

Bruce truly did enjoy being with you. You never had expectations on how he needed to act or treat you. You just let him be Bruce without complaint

He even felt comfortable enough to admit his identity as Batman after a few months of being with you

He half expected you to freak out, but you didn't. To his surprise, you mostly made a joke of it.

"Oh my god, no way! Super tall and extremely jacked billionaire with an army of adopted children Bruce Wayne is the Batman!? You two don't even look alike!"

He swears he had fallen in love a little more just by the sarcasm alone

A year into the relationship, your apartment building had to ask everyone to temporarily move out due to a mold problem in the basement while they got it cleaned out

Bruce offered to let you stay at the manor while it got worked out

Now, he wasn't worried about how long you might need to stay there. He was just concerned about how the kids would react to you staying there for so long.

Dick was super friendly and Jason didn't have a huge care for who Bruce was dating. And Tim was always busy with some random project that he was working on.

However, Damian might not like the fact that he was bringing someone into the manor who had the knowledge of their second life. He could barely remain civil on the nights you came over for dinner

And Cassandra had only been taken in a couple of weeks ago and hadn't been able to meet you yet. He was worried of how she might react to the new presence in the manor for an unknown amount of time so suddenly.

He sat all the kids down that morning to let them know of the situation before you showed up that night without any of them knowing why

As he expected, Cass was skeptical about the whole situation but Dick and Jason assured her she would like you

Damian flat out admitted to hating the whole thing before storming out of the room to get ready for school

When you finally got done with work, you came over with a small suitcase full of most of your clothes and a bag with the other important things you need

Bruce eagerly welcomed you in while taking the bag from you. Kissing you softly before guiding you towards his room to put your stuff away

He helped you find a place for all your stuff in his private spaces

He smirked as you got to setting your medicine up on the sink counter. His hands holding up the pack that held your morning after pills as he raised a brow

You innocently shrugged while saying neither of you liked to wear condoms all the time. Besides, you had to find a way to thank him for his generosity after all

He set the packet down before kissing you again with a little more intensity

He pulls away went you lightly swat his chest while telling him he can have his fun later, but you wanted to meet Cassandra

He chuckled while nodding his head as he lead you to her room

He gently knocked on the door and called out to Cass as you stood beside him with a calm smile

Cass opened the door while looking between Bruce and you with a curious look in her eyes

You continue smiling while holding a hand out while introducing yourself to her. Calmly asking about her and saying she can feel free to talk to you about anything if she wanted to

Cass cautiously shakes your hand while glancing between you and Bruce before saying she had a few things to do in her room before dinner

Bruce softly reassured you to give her some time after the door closed on you

Bruce guided you away from the door to give you an in depth tour of the manor for you to be comfortable navigating for the next few weeks you would be there

It doesn't take long for it to be time for dinner as everyone gathers around the table to eat

The silence that loomed over the table was almost suffocating each time conversation went around to Damian or Cass

Bruce repeatedly encouraged them to speak to you about anything, but Cass always shrunk into herself while Damian glared at his father for the suggestion

Dinner ended quite awkwardly as the three oldest boys found excuses to leave the table fairly quickly after finishing their plates

Damian simply left the table without a word, leaving you, Bruce, and Cass

You look at Bruce with a small frown as he gives you a small nod for encouragement while tilting his head towards Cass

Looking back over to her, you comment on how you would be going shopping in a few days for a couple of things and asked if she would want to come along to spend some time together

She looked up in surprise before giving a small nod while saying she would like to try if she was feeling it that morning

That night as he was about to get ready for patrol, he watched you get ready for bed with guarded excitement for the promised outing

Bruce smiled while walking over to place a soft kiss to your temple while saying they would all be back before dawn

You smile back while kissing his cheek and saying that you wanted them to come back with all their bones intact, which he assured would happen as he told you to sleep well

The next few days all went very similar to the first night with Damian still acting hostile and Cass still uncertain of your presence

The weekend morning you were going to be shopping, Cass had said she was willing to go out for a couple hours with you that day

Bruce gave you one of his cards as you got ready for the day while asking you to make sure Cass got a few things that she liked while you were looking today

You hesitantly take the card while saying you would before giving him a kiss goodbye and leaving for the shopping center

Everything is quiet in the manor for a few hours as the boys simply lounged around for that morning as they surprisingly didn't have anything that needed to be done that day

Around noon, Bruce got a text saying you both were caught up at the mall and would be home when everything settled down and grabbed a small meal

He felt concerned at first but quickly brushed the fears aside

You would have told him if something bad happened and you needed his help with anything

About two more hours pass before you and Cass finally make it back with a handful of shopping bags each

The boys all watch from a distance as you give her a small kiss on the cheek before she goes up to put her items away with a smile

Bruce, intrigued by the sudden change, got up to greet you while asking how everything went as you begin to hand him back his credit card

You shrug while saying it wasn't anything too important. Just a small misunderstanding with another customer who tried interacting with Cass when she didn't want the attention

Bruce's jaw clenched as he began to stand up, but you assured him that it was handled and the guy wouldn't be trying anything like that again anytime soon

Bruce reluctantly accepts the explanation as you quickly peck his cheek before letting you go put you own purchases up

"And on a completely unrelated note, I had to buy a new thing of pepper spray because I apparently emptied mine recently."

From that day on, Cass had taken a strong liking to you and would open up to you if she ever needed to talk

Bruce felt relieved that you managed to get her to feel comfortable, but he was still worried about Damian

The day he changed his mind came a couple weeks later when he was at school one day

You and Bruce had the day off, so of course you were both trying to spend it in his bedroom

'Trying' being the key word in that statement

Just as Bruce was slipping a hand under your shirt, his phone began to ring

You both groan slightly as he pulled away to see who was bothering him during the day

His attitude immediately changed as he saw Damian's principal calling him

He answered the phone with concern as he was told that Damian had gotten into a fight with a few boys that were a few grades above him

Bruce began to get himself presentable as he asked to speak to Damian as he watched you get ready as well while looking confused

He explained the situation as you furrowed your brows as you told him to put it on speaker to talk with Damian as well

When Damian's voice came from over the phone, Bruce couldn't get a word in before you spoke to the boy

"Speak in a simple yes or no. Did you win and did they swing first?"

The line goes silent for a moment before Damian let out a strained, "Yes."

"Are those kids somewhat racist towards you regularly?"

"...somewhat."

You give a look to Bruce as you begin to put yourself together as he tells Damian you will both be there shortly

The drive is quick as you and Bruce are taken to the waiting area where the other parents are already talking to one another

You and Bruce both go unnoticed at first as they comment about Damian being 'unstable' around the other children due to the environment he was brought up in

Bruce cleared his throat to get the attention of the other parents before they could say anything else

The principal ushered the parents into the office where all the boys sat in front of the desk as their parents stood behind them

Each of them had a bruise of some kind on their face or body, even Damian had a black eye and a busted lip

The principal walks in while telling everyone to calm down before explaining how the older boys had snuck up on Damian when he went to his locker at some point

Everyone listens as the principal begins to explain the 'no tolerance' policy the school has and that all the boys will need to be temporarily suspended while an investigation occurs. Including Damian

"I beg your pardon?" "The fuck he will!"

Bruce and you both go off on the principal at the suggestion that Damian would be punished for the fact he defended himself

You even put a hand on Damian's head while saying that 'your little boy' would never hurt anyone without a reason

Bruce maintained his surprise by the statement you said, focusing on making sure his son didn't get punished

Damian could see the angle you were playing as he looked up to you with big eyes as he leaned towards you

"I just trying to get a book out of my locker when they attacked me. I was just protecting myself, ummi, I swear."

Bruce bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling and giving away the two of you in your act. How you both could understand the act without any form of prepared plan was astounding to him

You stare down the principal with a frown as you raise an eyebrow

"You have cameras in the hallway. Check them and see that he simply defended himself from those boys. Damian will be back to school tomorrow to keep getting his education. Habibi, we're going home."

The three of you quickly leave the office and head to the car

Once inside and driving back to the manor, Bruce looked over at you with a quirked brow. You just looked at him with a smile

"You dating someone who was once a theater kid. We're all crazy on some degree."

Since that day, Damian had seen you in a different light and began to get along with you to a degree

Which Bruce found to be relieving as you had gotten a call saying that your apartment building was being condemned because the mold had apparently been in the walls of all the floors

He had made sure to help you get all the remaining belongings you had there out so you wouldn't have to worry about losing anything when they destroyed the building

He was a little happy about it because you would be around more with him and spending time with all the kids more often

Bruce thought everything was going great and that you were happy staying with them so you wouldn't have to move back out to just live with them again later on

He had thought you had felt the same way about the living situation

That was until he came back from patrol one night to see you passed out with your phone screen left open on a site with different apartment listings

He was confused when he saw that you had multiple tabs on your phone with similar information on each of them

Bruce quickly turns your phone off on the page you had been on as he lays down in bed with you as his mind raced

Why would you be looking at apartments? The kids all enjoyed having you around now and you got to see them everyday. Why would you want to leave them all?

The time passed quickly as the sun finally began to rise and your alarm went off

You turned it off before rolling over to smile at Bruce with a soft groan. Moving to his side to give him a loving kiss

Bruce returned with as he held you closer with his own smile

He carefully asked if you knew that you were welcome to stay with them all for however long that you needed

You smiled while saying that you knew before giving him another kiss while getting up to prepare yourself for work

He smiled as he watched you get ready before his mind began to wander again

Doubts crept into his thoughts as he got to work himself while trying to figure out some paperwork his attorneys were worried for some reason or another, he couldn't seem to recall what about

When the day was almost over, he was barely focused when his assistant came in with some personal business to talk about

Bruce forced himself to pay attention as he was told about how their family would be expecting a baby soon and they all would want some time off for every member to get to bond together with the new addition

Bruce couldn't help but smile at the news along with them while saying that he would be happy to give them the time as long as a temporary placeholder was found for their job

He still smiled as his assistant left as the fears and doubts quickly disappeared as he began to think

A baby? Babies normally do bring families together. And it takes a lot of work to take care of one alone. But with enough people to support and help out, it might not be as bad. And it would be redundant to live separately with the both of you having a baby together.

When he got home that night, he felt slightly relieved when he saw a new box of your personal hygiene products in his bathroom

Now he had a time frame that he could try to work on his idea to keep you around

About a week later after everyone finished up with dinner, Bruce gently guided you upstairs to his room

He locked the door behind you before guiding you towards the bed

You smile while pulling him in by the collar of his shirt

Bruce smiles while he begins to kiss you, one hand holding the back of your neck as the other moves underneath your shirt

You both begin undressing one another slowly as hands gently explore the skin that becomes exposed

Bruce trailed his lips down to press along your throat before going across your collarbone

He smiled at every small noise that sounded next to his ear with every touch he made on your skin

He pulled away to guide you to lay down on the bed as he ran a hand down your body while getting on top of you

He settled most of his upper body weight into his arms as he began to kiss you again

Just as he was about to get situated above you, Bruce felt you lightly push against his shoulder as you lift off the bed

Bruce smiled as he let you move him to his back so you could straddle his hips with a bashful grin

Oh, how Bruce loved it when you wanted to ride him

He intertwined one hand with yours as you leaned down to lovingly kiss him while grinding into him

He stared as you straightened back up so you could position him at your entrance

He squeezed your hand as you slowly sank down on him with a sigh

You placed your free hand on his abdomen while slowly rolling your hips against his

Bruce's head rolled back into the pillow when you raised up a few inches to sink back down

His hand slide down to grasp at the spot on your thigh just below your ass before squeezing the muscles under his palm

He smiled up at you while watching you gently fuck yourself onto his cock

Occasionally, Bruce would move his hand to make you roll into his hips again when you sunk back down

The two of you stared into each other's eyes before you slowly moved to lay down on his chest

Bruce wrapped his arm around your waist to help you push back onto him as the two of you began kissing once again

His ego swelled at the small whimpers you let out against his mouth as the both of you got closer to the edge

He felt you tightly grasp his hand as you began to shake on top of him as you came with a small cry

It took Bruce a few more moments before he finally stilled his own movement, continuously placing soft kisses to your lips and face as you calm down

It normally didn't last that long when you rode him, but Bruce couldn't help how intimate it always got between you both

He waited as you finally relaxed before lifting you off his lap with a groan

Helping you to your feet, Bruce lead you to the bathroom before turning on the shower for the both of you

He held you close as the water flowed over the both of you, helping scrub the body wash over your skin while massaging the muscles that were still tense

He even let you return the favor when you offered to wash his hair

He couldn't help the urge he got when he watched you worry about tending to his needs than the thought of you doing that for your future children

Bruce leaned in to passionately kiss you while pressing you into the shower wall

He used his hand to hold your head in place as he positions himself at your entrance again

He gently pushed in with a small groan as he begins rolling his hips against yours

Bruce remain soft with each movement as you lightly claw at the skin of his back

He stopped kissing you for a moment as he rested his forehead against yours as you both got a moment to catch your breath

"I love you. Love having you here with me. Like you were meant to be with me in all this."

Bruce groaned as he felt you clench around him as he spoke to you, the sensation sending a shiver down his spice

He trailed a hand down to lightly circle his fingers over your clit as he felt himself get closer to release once again

He gave a small grunt as he still his hips against yours as he helped you to your second orgasm

He continued holding you up while running his hands along your body to help you come down once again

Bruce grinned while beginning to wash the new mess he made before finally turning off the water for the shower

He helped get you into one of the shirts you wear to sleep before guiding you back to the bed

You lean into the cover while telling him to be careful out there

Bruce grinned while leaning down to kiss your forehead before he had to get ready for patrol

"Don't worry. I'll do everything in my power to see you waiting for me every morning."

When he got back from patrol, he was extra cautious not to wake you when he entered the room

After getting changed, Bruce went to your phone before unlocking it to turn off your alarms for that day

He carefully climbed into bed and pulling you to him before drifting into a light sleep

He made sure to not move around too much when he heard the rest of the family beginning to move about for their day

Bruce only began to stir when he felt like it was long enough past the time your alarm would go off for you to worry about getting ready for work

He gently shook you while saying you had slept through the alarm and needed to get up and soon

You groan while reaching for your phone to see the time before jumping up from the bed

He sat up as you quickly changed clothes before trying to head to the bathroom

Bruce quickly said that Alfred would make you eat something before leaving, so you should do that before brushing your teeth

You quickly agree before rushing out of the bedroom door to go and eat something

Bruce got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom to grab your vitamins and medicines that you would need to take

He waited until you rushed back in with a cup of water

You took it all from his hand to take before brushing your teeth

He waited as you gave him a small kiss goodbye before leaving for work before you would be late

Bruce waited until he heard the front door closed before picking up the pack with your morning after pill

Taking one out of the packet, Bruce let out a small sigh before tossing the pill in the toilet before flushing it down the drain

Throughout the day, Bruce felt slightly guilty about not being honest when giving your medicine when you slept in that morning

He was thinking about saying that he forgot about it when you came back that night, but stopped when you came walking through the door and immediately greeted the kids first before going to talk to Bruce

Oh, how he knew you were going to make a great mom with how amazing you treated the rest of the family

All doubts disappeared from his mind as he welcomed you home from work

The next few weeks, Bruce made sure to keep an eye out on behavior or physical changes that could be signs you did get pregnant

He noticed how you would occasionally get sick in the morning after he got back to the manor

You assured him it was probably a stomach bug that some of your coworkers had that was spreading around

He definitely had his suspicions though when you would get random little cravings at night or in early hours of the day

You said french toast was a perfectly reasonable food to eat at 7:30 in the evening

The week you didn't get your period on time, he began to get hopeful

One day, watched you come in with a grocery bag and a nervous look on your face

He immediately suggested that you both go to his room to talk before you nodded along

After locking the door, Bruce asked what was on your mind

You avoid eye contact while pulling a digital pregnancy test out of the bag for him to see

He looked at it for a moment before saying that it was alright and he would wait for the results to come through

You quickly went to the bathroom before going to sit on the bed with Bruce holding you to his chest as the results processed

Nothing was said when the time was finally up and you brought the test closer to read the results on the small window

'Pregnant'

Bruce holds you closer while asking what you wanted to do with the whole thing

You go quiet for a moment before saying that you didn't have the heart to just get rid of it

Bruce smiled while moving a hand to rest under your shirt before he said he understood and began a discussion on the options you would need to think about

While you only agreed to a few of the things Bruce specifically wanted you to do, he knew he still had some time to get you to see his ways and agree

You both did agree to do a small announcement for the whole family in the next few days to not hide the news and get discovered by one of the many vigilantes in the house

Bruce did push to have Alfred get you new vitamins and a few books to look over before then so then you could have a head start on the whole journey

As he laid you down to sleep that night, Bruce couldn't help the smirk on his face as he thought of what your future would entail

There was no way you would think of moving out now. He knew you wouldn't break the family up like that with the new child for everyone to fawn over that they would want around at all times

Oh, how perfect you truly were for this family with Bruce by your side

#batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere batman

[leidensygdom]

I gotta say, one of the wildest radical transphobes' talking "points" is probably bathroom discourse. I can't even put to words how utterly detached from reality it is. It's terminally online stuff.

So, bathrooms. I don't know if somehow other people's realities are somehow vastly different from mine, but I feel like the extreme clear divide between "men's" and "women's" bathrooms is just not real. Where I live, stalls are often gendered, but how much they get used in that way is far less consistent.

For example: If the place had only the space to make one bathroom accessible, it's gonna be the women's bathroom. Always. It doesn't mean only disabled women have access to bathrooms- It means that the women's bathroom is also going to be used by disabled people. And this is common. Really common. Maybe it's because the women's bathroom tends to need more space- For pad dispensers and trash cans, for baby-changing stations (yes, I hate that these are only on the women's bathroom usually), and so on. Now- You see a guy enter the women's bathroom. Are you gonna micro-analize if the guy looks disabled enough to use it, or are you going to wash your hands and go on with your life?

Again, baby-changing stations are almost always located on the women's bathroom. It sucks- It should be in all bathrooms. But it's how it is. You see a cis guy enter with a kid. Or maybe not even with a kid- Just enters, wanders around, finds the baby-changing station, gets a diaper from the dispenser and leaves. Are you gonna throw a fit or just let this guy handle his kid?

Bathrooms get cleaned on the regular. A lot of times, you may wanna go there, and get told it's being cleaned, and just get asked to use the other gender's bathroom. Cleaning can take hours. If the men's bathroom is being cleaned and everyone is now using the women's, are you going to deem the bathroom to be the world's unsafest place or are you just go take a pee and leave?

Fucking hell, sometimes the stall you want to go to is incredibly dirty. It happens. No need to get on details. Just the kind of stuff that makes you want to not use it. Or maybe it's clogged, or maybe it's not working. Maybe there's a note saying "Broken, do not enter". Do you cry about it or just go find another stall- Which may be on the other fucking gender's bathroom?

Most times I'll use whatever bathroom is available. One is busy? Ok, let me get to the other one. I'm AFAB and while I don't present femininely, I still look like a woman to most people. Have I ever been in danger because I cleaned my hands besides someone with a dick? No. Grow the fuck up. This isn't even rare. People will switch bathrooms for speed. People will switch bathrooms because one of them is out of paper. Because one of them is out of soap.

The mall in my current city recently installed "Family" bathrooms. They're not being marketed as unisex, or inclusive, or anything. Just "family" bathrooms. For everyone. They're great. It's the bathroom everyone will use- Men, women, anything in between and outside of that, kids, disabled people, etc. There's a bunch of stalls adapted to different needs. There's accessible stalls. There's pad and diaper dispensers. There's stalls that have a big toilet and a little toilet so parents can go with their kids. There's tall sinks and short sinks- So disabled people and kids can reach.

And, to nobody's surprise, there's no reports whatsoever of any sort of assault in them.

I'm just. I don't know. I'm sorry you can't detach the existence of a dick near you from immediate assault. I don't know why that changes in the context of a bathroom- I've never (in my long life of using whatever bathroom) been in danger for that. And I'm talking as someone who has had some unsavory experiences in other situations. Grow the fuck up and maybe stop basing your views on imaginary scenarios y'all need to come up with to justify your hatred of a minority. Maybe if y'all got off your keyboards and went outside for once, you'd realize bathrooms work much differently from whatever weird ideal you have formed about them.

#trans issues #transgender #lgbtq #lgbtia #queer #long post

[unearthly-doting]

yandere portrait

a/n: new blog, first post!! it's longer than i intended but in my defense, i wrote this to cope w the aftermath of bugbear's route in saint spell's, so. sorry if it's messy </3

warnings: yandere content, gn reader, male yandere, delusional yandere, i think this technically classifies as stalking, the feeling of being watched, slightly graphic murder, kidnapping, they/them pronouns do get used to describe the reader at the end, no nsfw but still minors do not interact!!

— there's this portrait inside the attic of the house you had just moved into. you had found it while cleaning the place out, getting rid of the belongings of the former owner of the place.

— you had tried throwing it out along with all the other stuff, but there was just something about it that... well... you aren't sure how to describe it, but looking at the man in the portrait, you felt bad for wanting to throw him away. he looked so sad in the painting, staring down at a wilted rose in his hand while being surrounded by a field of yellow chrysanthemums.

— it was silly, to be honest. it was a painting, you aren't sure why you felt bad for it, but you did. so you kept it. in the attic.

— and it was all fine and dandy. you honestly forgot about the portrait after a few weeks since you rarely ever went up to the attic, and you were so busy unpacking and decorating your new home that you just didn't have the energy to think about it.

— but then one night, you heard a very loud thump coming from upstairs. you weren't sleeping, catching up on some work you had put back, but the noise startled you nonetheless. had somebody broken in? the thought made you feel sick as you looked up at the ceiling of your room, waiting to see if you could hear footsteps or anything like that.

— you heard nothing.

— okay... then maybe something fell? you hadn't exactly cared too much about where you put stuff up there, so you wouldn't be surprised if something did. you... should probably go check, to make sure nothing was broken up there.

— when you got to the attic, it didn't take you long to find the source of the loud noise you had heard. the portrait of the man had fallen from where you had placed him and was lying face down on the ground.

— you picked it up with a sigh, only for the frame that surrounded it to come undone in the process. the fall must've broken it. it was old, so you weren't surprised. you're just glad the painting looked okay—wait... was the man always looking at the viewer?

— you're... not going to think too hard on that. you're pretty sure you have a frame that would fit, so you carefully roll the portrait up, making sure to not accidentally bend the corners or cause any tears before making your way back downstairs to begin your search for a new frame

— it was definitely a long search, but you eventually found one tucked deep away in the closet you were using for storage. and it was a perfect fit! and after some debating with yourself, you decided you probably shouldn't put it back up in the attic, just in case it fell again.

— there wasn't any place for you to hang it at the moment, so you just decided to put it in your room for now until you could find space for it. you made sure to face it away from the bed, however. you aren't sure why, but it felt as if the man in the painting were watching you.

— that feeling never really went away, even after the days went by. whenever you would walk by the painting, it felt as if eyes were on you. and you couldn't help but notice little details in the portrait were changing.

— the flower he held was no longer wilted. he didn't look sad anymore. the blooming flowers surrounding him went from chrysanthemums to red roses. it was hard to believe, and you couldn't help but wonder if you were going crazy. maybe the painting was just dirty and you were mistaking the details?

— the painting did look a little dirty, so after doing some research, you bought the supplies you needed to clean it and got straight to it when you had the time to spare. you removed it from its frame and laid it out on the dining table since that was the only flat surface you had that was big enough.

— you were deeply focused, playing music to fill the silence and humming along to whatever song played, tending to the painting as if you had painted it yourself. and you were so caught up in cleaning the painting that you didn't notice that you were being watched. you didn't notice the way the man's eyes followed your every move or the way his lips twitched in a barely concealed smile.

— you did, however, notice some writing at the very bottom right corner of the painting. "aurin, by xxx." so that must be the man's name then, huh? taking one glance at him, it felt fitting.

— once you had finished cleaning the dirt and dust off the painting—aurin, as you now know him as—you put him back in his frame and find a nice spot in the living room to hang him up. he was definitely out of place with the rest of your décor, but you didn't really mind. he added a strange feeling of... life.

— the feeling of being watched never went away, however. even at night, when you were tucked comfortably in bed, you would wake up in the middle of the night feeling as if someone else were in the room with you. it was beginning to make you feel paranoid. maybe the house was haunted?

— not only that, little things would be different whenever you came home from work or an outing. the place would be cleaner, the fridge would be neatly sorted, your clothes would be neatly tucked away in your closet... this was a very clean and friendly ghost if you're house really was haunted. and you really hope it was. you don't want to think of the alternative.

— but it was still weird, and you were starting to lose sleep because of it, hoping to see if you could catch whoever or whatever was doing this. at some point, you called a friend to come over to spend a few nights with you. you felt like you were going crazy, and you needed someone there to keep you grounded.

And your friend did! They came over, promising to stay for the week to help you keep your mind off the weird shit happening in your house. The weird feeling of being watched was still there, but nothing was ever moved out of place anymore.

Tonight was the last night that they'd be staying over, and the two of you decided to make a little party out of it. You both went out and got some drinks and a bunch of snacks and you guys just sat down and watched some shitty movies.

You guys weren't drinking alcohol, but the jokey mood the two of you had going on certainly made it feel as if you were tipsy, collapsing into a fit of giggles at one of their lame jokes as you leaned against them.

The time spent with them this week was fun, tonight being the best of all, but eventually, the two of you had to go to bed. The two of you shared a hug before you left them to go to your bedroom. You went to bed that night with a smile on your face, feeling relaxed for the first time in a while.

...

You startled awake. It was dark outside, and the clock read 4am. A loud noise had woken you up, a thud that sounded like someone, or something, falling. You weren't immediately concerned, thinking that your friend might've fallen off the couch while sleeping.

You should probably check on them to make sure they aren't hurt. With a tired sigh, you climb out of bed and make your way to the living room, stumbling a bit in the dark as you rub some sleep from your eyes.

Your hand roams against the wall for a moment before finding the light switch and flicking it, opening your mouth to speak but your words get stuck in your throat.

As soon as the light fills the room, your stomach drops.

You had been expecting to see your friend on the floor, probably still sleeping, but...

You weren't expecting to see someone on top of them, some sort of blade in hand, stabbing into their neck multiple times. You just stood there, frozen as you watched the mystery man stab your friend. They were already dead, not moving, eyes staring up into nothingness. You had only spoken to them just mere hours ago, and now they're on your living room floor, covered in their own blood as the man continues to stab them.

He seemed so caught up in the act that he hadn't even noticed the lights were on, or that you were watching. You should run. You should get as far away from here as possible, but it's like you were frozen in place. Your legs felt weak, and they gave out on you before you could even try running.

You fall to the ground, hands shaking, tears running down your face, bile stuck in your throat as you force yourself to not vomit.

The squelching sound of stabbing stops, and the man turns his attention to you. It was Aurin. Aurin, the man from that damn painting. Your gaze snapped over to said painting, thinking that you must be going insane, but no.

The painting was vacant. The man inside of it was gone. What the fuck.

His expression was vacant, and you stared at him like a deer in headlights, wondering if you were going to be killed next. Ha... killed by a weird supernatural entity that shouldn't even exist... maybe you are going crazy. Maybe this is all just one really bad nightmare.

You'll wake up any second now and see your friend's smiling face as they drag you out of bed so you can help them pack their stuff. You'll wake up, and he'll be back in his painting again. Everything will be normal. This isn't real.

It's not real. It can't be. This is just some fucked up—

Cold hands cup your face, and the feeling of blood smearing on your cheeks is enough to snap you out of your thoughts. You hadn't even noticed when he approached you, or when he crouched down to your level.

The vacant expression was gone, replaced with a quiet, guilty one.

"I apologize, my love," He speaks, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "You weren't supposed to see such a..." He trails off, a brief look of annoyance crossing his features as if remembering something he disliked, "Mess."

You were too stunned, too scared, to sick to speak. You just stared.

Aurin sighed, looking genuinely ashamed of himself, "I hope this doesn't make you think any less of me, my darling rose. I just couldn't... I couldn't stand the way they were looking at you. The way they were touching you. The advances they were making on you made me feel so angry," His nails dug into your cheeks as he spoke, and you wince slightly at the feeling. He took notice immediately, easing his grip on you as an apologetic smile appeared on his face, "I suppose I lost myself for a moment when taking care of them."

You struggled to process his words. He... he killed your friend because he thought they were making a move on you? Because of jealousy? That just... what the fuck...

"You..." Your voice cracks a bit as you speak, a wave of nausea hitting you as the taste of the blood in the air coats the inside of your mouth.

"Shhh..." He gently shushes you, running a hand over your hair. You cringe knowing there was blood sticking to the strands now, "Don't say anything, darling. I'm sure this is all a very big shock to you, but it'll be okay. I'll take care of you, the way you took care of me."

Your confusion only grew when he gently helped you off the ground, his grip on your arm was tight enough to keep you from running away but gentle enough that it didn't hurt, "But I haven't..." You trail off, going to deny his claims of you taking care of him, only to remember that you technically have.

He merely smiles, "But you have. I was so alone, up in that dusty attic. And then you came along, and you showed me a love that I hadn't experienced in decades. You took care of me. It's only natural that I take care of you in return, isn't it? That's what lovers do, after all."

"Lovers?!"

Aurin paid no mind to your shock, seemingly not even registering how odd and deranged this situation was, acting as if he hadn't just murdered your best friend in a fit of supposed jealous rage.

"I wasn't going to take you home so soon, trust me. I was content with helping you out around the house and making everything easier for you but..." He trails off, gaze wandering away from you to stare at the corpse on the ground, "Things happen. I don't think I can leave you to your devices here anymore. Someone may try to steal you away from me again, and I would hate for you to see another mess like this."

What the hell is he talking about?

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but you couldn't get a single syllable out before he was speaking again.

"Don't worry, it'll be a harmless trip. You'll just feel tired, but you can lean on me for support! Trust me, my love, you'll adore your new home." He says, excitement lacing his words.

It was a little scary, how you instantly began to feel tired after he finished talking. You're not sure if it was his doing, somehow, or if your body just couldn't handle the situation anymore and wanted you to sleep in hopes that everything would be better once you woke up.

Your eyes closed against your will, and you could faintly make out Aurin's soft humming as he held you close against him. You were too tired to fight against him, almost as if some sort of pressure were weighing you down.

Maybe everything will be better when you wake up...

A few months later, a couple had moved into a new home. The price had been on the cheaper side due to a fairly gruesome unsolved murder and kidnapping that took place there. They were determined to make a home out of it, even with its dark history.

"Honey, doesn't this painting feel a little off to you?" One of them asks, staring up at a painting that was hanging on a wall in the living room.

The other shrugs, moving boxes around and momentarily pausing to glance at the painting, "Just looks like a painting to me. Take it down if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Hm..."

They stare up at it, arms crossed as they take in the details. Two people were dancing together in a field of red roses. There was nothing wrong with that, it was rather romantic, to be honest. The man in the painting was normal as well, eyes closed with a serene smile on his face as he held his partner close. He looked as if he were in love, in all honesty. The part that unsettled them was the distraught look on the face of the man's dance partner, as well as the chains that tied their wrists to his, roses weaved into the chains as if to try and hide them.

It was a breathtaking painting, sure, but...

"Let's just put it up in the attic, that way we won't have to see it."

#oc: the portrait — aurin. #yandere portrait x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x gn reader #yandere #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere imagines

[certainlynotasimp]

Cat Got Your Tongue?

(Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader)

A/N: Hello~✨This is the one-shot version of this head cannon some one requested of Miguel O’Hara with a Black Cat!Reader. I still have no idea if this Anon , who I think I know who you are, wanted it to be the personality trope or the actual Spiderman character…oh well, I’m planning on writing one with y’all’s Spiderman x Black Cat lovers. Also this is my first attempt at some spicy content so feedback is appreciated.

Warnings: 18+ themes (Minors DNI), Not smut, Female Reader/Pronouns, Embarrassed Miguel, Jealousy, Dirty talk, and Google Translated Spanish (( again I’m sorry but hearing him talk in Spanish is literally just 🤤🤭🥵))

~~~~~~~~~

The sound of aggressive typing fills the empty space as six spider men enter the meeting place within the lobby of the Spider Society.

Miguel barely sparred any of them a glance as they mumbled their small formalities while dragging themselves to their seats. All except the one the blue spider absolutely loathed to see in this room.

“Good morning, Guapito~” A sultry voice purrs into his ear causing the hairs on his neck to stand up. The SpiderWoman’s minty breath caused Miguel to bite on his salivating tongue as he chewed out. “Good morning, (L/N). Please take your seat.”

Throwing on a mask of annoyance, he glares at the snickering temperest as she sits beside him.

The new addition to the society joined about three weeks ago and Miguel never regretted anything more in his life than letting her bat her eyelashes into his team. Her faux innocence deceived him into believing she wouldn’t be too much trouble until the devil perked her head out of her.

Soon accidental brushes in the corridor turned into lingering caresses. Polite compliments turned into flirty promises as she continued to twist him around her finger. He should hate it. Hate every single bat of those long eyelashes. Hate every cat like curl to her lip. Hate how she acentuates her muscles and curves when she’s close to him. But he doesn’t.

The only thing he can possibly think that he hates about her was the ravage thoughts she puts into his head.

And he hates how he loves it.

“Alright, since we are all here.” He states as he opens the holographic map through out the room. “We are dealing with a dangerous anomaly in dimension 1746.”

As he finishes that sentence, a brush of something against his calf makes his muscles jump. He controls his face to remain calm and collected despite the urge to glare at the snickering spider beside him.

The others look at her confused for a moment before she fakes a sneeze into her elbow.

“Oh, excuse me.” She plays innocent as she grabs a tissue and dabs her nose. “The change in season in my world is causing a really bad allergy season…”

Her pitiful excuse causes the others to turn back towards their leader with a soft chorus of ‘bless yous’ plays out. Her eyes turn to meet his ruby gaze as a sinister smile curls on her pretty mouth.

‘Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.’ Miguel mentally groans as he throws himself back into the meeting.

“Lyla.” Miguel calls as he watches the heart eyed AI materialize infront of him.

“Yea, boss?” She says as she picks at her nails. He fights the urge to roll his eyes as he calmly asks, “Please show us all the information you gathered about the anomaly and what should we expect.”

“Isn’t that your job as the leader to do that?” The computer teases as Miguel glares at her.

“It does sound a lot more interesting when you explain it, sir.” A voice purrs beside him, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand. His talons crack out of his skin as he grinned his teeth. Luckily, the red glow from the map allowed his heated cheeks to blend in.

“Well, (L/N), Maybe you should learn how to listen more to others.” Miguel grits out.

“Yea, hot stuff.” One of the spidermen whistles. “I’ll let you listen to me all night long.” He flirts as he uses the lense of his mask to wink at her.

The table almost cracks beneath the grip he on it as he tries to focus back on Lyla. “Parker-7853, you better watch your mouth before I send you home to your wife…” He warns he avoids eye contact.

The room goes back to the normal silence it was before as they all paid attention to Lyla explain the rules of the mission and the best ways to take out the anomaly without causing too much destruction to the fabric of space. Miguel focuses intently in front of him, but nothing the AI says processes through his brain.

The only thing he can think about was the burning gaze of the woman beside him. How she scoots a little closer and lightly traces her nail along his thigh.

‘Shit…’

As the agonizing minutes past by, the torture only got worse. Slight brushes along his leg and side, silent muttering of sweet nothings, disguised questions to hide the flirty remarks, and hyper attention on all of her perfume drove him mad.

His stomach was all in knots as he tried to remain composed as the meeting drew closer to the end. His fingers itched from the talons digging so deep into the chair as his fangs ached for a relief from the hunger she started in him. It’s hard to believe that she isn’t a Silk variant with how much she affected him….

The tension building in the room went unacknowledged but not unnoticed by the other spider men as Miguel’s signature frown was now a hardened scowl. The others didn’t dare point it out. They knew better than to call out their leader for being obviously distracted from the mission. They were all there when Miles Morales was at their base.

As the meeting ended, every spider man rushed out of the room before Miguel could properly dismiss them, leaving only him and his problem. The she-devil smiles sweetly as him as she stands up and innocently says,

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Right, Papi?” Her eyes shining with a look of mischief until she realized she broke the last bit of his resolve.

“Leaving so soon?” Miguel uncharacteristically smirks as he stands up and follows behind the woman. “I was hoping…” He pushes a button to cause the door to slam shut before the spider could escape his web. “We can have a quick chat about your behavior today.”

She turns and looks up at him in shock for a brief moment before slipping on her usual mask of flirtation. Her lovely eyes jumping from his looming figure towards any other way she could possibly escape. This wasn’t the usual reaction she would get from Miguel. He would normally scold her or roll his eyes at her advances, but today was different.

She’s fucked this time.

“Oh? I get some alone time with you today, Guapito?” She stuttered out as the growing dread and excitement bubbles up from her stomach into her rapid beating heart.

“Did you enjoy that?” Miguel asks sweetly, ignoring her comment as he stands just inches in front of her. His hand comes up beside her head and is placed against the door. His body leans forward as his open hand supports his weight. The tangible effect of watching his arm and shoulder flex from the strain almost causes her to pull her lip in between her teeth.

“En-enjoy what?” She acts coy as she tries to keep her eyes on his chest. She watches it vibrate with the deep cruel chuckle he releases and her own heart starts trembling as the smell of his cologne suffocates the air around them.

“Aw, is Gatita struggling to speak now?” A coo of false concern is laced with his amusement as she feels his other hand coming up beside her head. “What’s wrong, Gatita? Cat got your tongue?”

He chuckles at her struggling to respond as he threads his talons through her hair. He yanks her head back against the door softly as his hunger filled eyes burn into her wide ones. Jealousy and a long denied desire were now pouring out into his smirk as he leans down whispering,

“Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?” His smirk widens revealing his fangs as he trails down slightly. Her body starts to shake from the anticipation as his nose traces fire from her cheek bone and along her jawline.

“I-I don’t-“ Miguel hushes her softly as his other hand comes to rest on her hip. “Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…” He tuts at her as the talons lightly dig into her neck and hip.

“Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…” The Spider Woman had to bite her lip to hold back the noise building in the back of her throat as his fangs lightly scrape against her throat as he uttered sweetly bad things to her.

He smirks at this before saying, “Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?”

She vigorously nods as the mask of false bravado finally falls off before Miguel tightens his grip in her hair, causing a soft moan to escape her pretty glossed lips.

“Words, Gatita. I want to hear you…” He scolds as he looks at how pathetic the once flirty spider had become in his touch.

“Yes!” She admits as her hands shot up and clung to his chest as the stinging from her scalp causes her to yelp.

“Good…” His face comes back up to her own as he starts to lean toward. Her own eyes flutter shut as she waits for the feeling of his lips against her own.

But nothing came. Instead she felt his hands completely remove themselves off of her as her eyes shot open. Miguel chuckles at the stop whine as he smirks devilishly at her.

“This will have to continue another time, Gatita…” He says as he unlocks the door. His face quickly trains back to the normal stern expression he always wears before saying, “But, don’t you dare try to embarrass me in front of the others again or else I will do as I promised…”

The spider scurries out of there with a tight “Yes, sir.” As Miguel chuckles in satisfaction.

Before he could leave, the yellow AI materializes again with a wicked smile on her face as she teases, “So you do like her?…if you’re gonna sleep with her, please don’t do it when I’m around. It was hard enough watching your two eye fuck the whole-“

“Lyla, shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.- She's gonna be the death of me.

Gatita-little kitten?? ((It also said it meant cooked 😭))

You think it's fun to play with me like this, okay? In front of all your colleagues?- Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?

Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…-Poor little kitten...can't even defend herself...even when another man threatens to take her home...

Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…—I almost thought about taking you right then and there...let them all hear how much of a good girl you can be for me…

Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?-Maybe even paralyze you with my venom so you can helplessly beg...but you would like that wouldn't you, pretty girl?

#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel ohara #fanfic #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara

[toiletwipes]

because we're friends | simpbur

~2.4k words / i tried my best to make it gender neutral reader but if there's any mistakes, feel free to let me know. [after hanging out with a friend and getting caught in the rain, simpbur takes his friend to his apartment to stay for the night. and he can't be normal and his friend knows.] 18+, minors do not interact.

You were just staying the night, for the night only. It’s pouring and you both walked here and both of you are broke idiots, he chants inside of his head, whatever could happen won’t happen. To take advantage of you while you’re helpless and with a dead phone? The temptation is there, his fingers twitch in his lap, the two of you sitting across from each other on his discounted couch.

You were just a friend who was just staying the night. Just that.

And yet, his mind runs from him. Because watching you watch some random movie, the flashing lights on your face only highlights what he likes seeing. Likes the dips and curves of your face, the way your eyelashes bat at him when you beg him to buy you something at the store. The way you pout at him. Fuck. He can’t stop looking at your mouth now. His mind runs from him and he can’t stop imagining you with spit-slick lips, bruised lips, lips wrapped around-

“-rything alright there, Wilby?” And the fucking nickname, his face burns. He lets out a low hum, focusing back on reality, looking you in the eyes. You’re not that concerned, only noticed his staring just now, most likely not aware how long he has been. (The answer being the entire time you’ve been watching your show.)

“Good. Just thinking.” Mhm, thinking he is, alright. But you smile, nodding and looking back to the screen, wiggling in your seat as you get comfortable. You send him a look as you stuff your feet underneath his legs. They’re cold, he notices and he can’t handle the effect you have on him. Fuck’s sake, your feet are only underneath his legs, but you’re touching him. Willingly, and willingly leaving yourself vulnerable. In no less than a second could he pin you down and work his fingers inside you, bruise your lips anyway he’d like. Because you trust him.

Both his fingers and his dick twitches.

And because you trust him, you end up scooting closer to him and his chest heaves with impure thoughts and desires. You don’t notice though. Switching the way you’re seated leaves you leaning against his side, with his arm tucked awkwardly behind you. But even then, you hum to yourself before reaching behind and pulling on his hand, wrapping it around your waist. His fingers graze uncovered skin by your stomach. He nearly jerks back before he forces himself to relax.

And his mind races. This position you’ve put yourself in. Tucking yourself into his side and wrapping yourself in him, letting him touch your bare skin. His heart pounds inside of his chest and he almost hopes you can feel him sporting a boner. He wants to shove his hand down your pants, up your shirt, in your mouth, fuck, the options were endless. More than anything, he wanted to push your face into the couch cushion and fuck you till you begged him to stop. And so again, his fingers twitch and you jerk away, giggling. “Sorry,” he mumbles, already pulling his hand away.

You shake your head, pulling on his hand again and even pushing it onto more uncovered skin, pushing your shirt up a little more. “I’m just ticklish.” And you twist your face a little just to smile at him.

He had so many questions, they’re just threatening to spill out of his mouth and fumble the wording and fuck everything up. But most of them are lewd and unbecoming of the friendship you’ve allowed him. Still, his fingers twitch and this time you relax as he flexes them, flattening them against your skin.

His own skin feels aflame, sensitive to every movement you make and he can’t even tell what the show was about. What they’re saying, who they are, they’re all lost to him.

And he misses a question. “Sorry, I spaced out- what did you say?” He tries to be casual but your next words send a shock through his veins.

“I’m not even surprised, I said, Wilbur- are you gonna keep staring at me or are you going to do something about it?” And his bones turn into stone, everything about him freezes and he can’t move. As if he had ice in his system and not blood.

“What can- what can I do?” His breathing starts again but it’s heavy, his head light from the lack of breathing and blood flow. Unknowingly, his hand presses harder against your skin.

“You mean besides killing me?” You laugh but his mind moves ahead of him, even thinking of that too. His dick jumps at the thought of you, bleeding, staring at him. And he pushes it away, no, no he wouldn’t. Not when you’ve just given him explicit permission to- to-

Fucking hell.

Shifting in his seat, he keeps his hand on your skin, relishes it more now. But his other hand moves to wrap around your middle too, pulling you into his chest. “So I can- you’ll let me-” he cuts himself off as he presses into your back, feeling the full force of your soap hit him. The lotion you’ve told him about. He presses his nose and mouth hard against the skin between your shoulder and neck, breathing and moaning as he breathes out. Months of pining, months of looking at you, months of jerking off to you, months of wet dreams and months of pushing all of that away-

He can stop pushing the thoughts away, indulge in them a little. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” He asks, one hand pressing on your stomach and the other slipping up to your chest, the fabric of your shirt hardly holds him back.

“This being?” Your voice hitches as his fingers graze your nipple, pinching, pulling, flicking.

“Touching you.” And his hand comes up to wrap around your throat, not so much squeezing as much as it’s just touching. Your skin is just so fucking soft. And it smells good. He can’t ever imagine being anywhere else anymore. And just as fast as he wrapped his hand around your throat, it slithers back down, both hands coming up to grope your chest, mouth moving as he licks the light sweat on your skin. Why you would wear a sweater to his apartment when there’s no air conditioning, is behind him, but it only serves him. He moans at the taste of salt, of sweat. Licks your skin in small circles, loving the taste of you.

Nudging your head to the side, he loves the way your chest heaves, the way soft whines and pants come out of you, loves to tweak the buds in between his knuckles and sucking at your neck, biting and kissing and moaning at the sounds that come out because of him.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you?” He asks, and he doesn't mean to, almost regrets it because wouldn’t that be a thought, to surprise you when he pulls your shorts down and shoves his cock inside of you. Oh, it’s so good, his dick jumps and he presses his body more into your back, nearly toppling the two of you over, and this way you can feel his dick against your back.

“Can you last that long?” Probably not but the way you tease him, it has him groaning against your wet skin, smelling so much like his spit.

“Don’t need to,” he mumbles, licking his way back up your neck and pressing closer, leans further to lick the skin of your jaw. Your head tilts back into his shoulder so nicely, he just has to suck a bruise into the skin there. And when he shoves his hand into your sweats, your mouth drops open and your eyes blink several times but they stay dilated.

“Wilb- fuck, Wilbur,” you whine as your hand reaches behind you, knocking his beanie off of his head and tugging on his hair. His mouth comes off of your skin as he moans, his hips jerking and rocking into your back. “If you keep touching me like that, I won’t- fuck, fuck, fuck.” He didn't care what the end of that sentence was going to be, he needed to hear what you sound like when you come. When he makes you come.

“Just like that, baby,” he mumbles, unable to close his eyes, pushing past the burning in his wrist as you whine right into his ear, your hips twitching and jerking on their own too as you make a mess over his fingers, his hand. You would’ve fallen face first into the cushion if he wasn’t holding you so close to him. “Just like that.”

The hand with you all over it goes right up to his mouth, licking every groove of his skin that’s covered in come, licking it all away and moaning at the taste. (The sight of which makes your insides burn, however boneless you are.)

In the next minute, he’s wiping the spit off of his hand on his own sweats, tugging at your sweater, which you take off gladly, and he shoves his hand between your body and your sweats, shoving them down. He feels your body shiver, bumps rising on your skin but all he feels is the intense burning of want, of need. He needs to be inside you right now, it drives him crazy.

“I’m so- so fucking close right now, I need you to tell me where I can come.” It’s like pulling teeth, speaking those words. You said anything, and fuck, maybe he might ignore whatever answer you have and come inside. His dick is so hard, he needs to be inside of you. He’s losing his fucking mind.

It’s as if you can hear his thoughts, or maybe he’s just saying them as they come, it doesn’t fucking matter. What matters is the grip tightening around his hair and you breathing out the word inside. The fucking butterflies he just felt. Fuck.

Shoving his pants down enough to pull his dick out, he smears pre-cum between your legs, your thighs, thrusting between them and the both of you moaning, it’s fucking bliss.

The moment he slips inside of you- he curses, you’re squeezing so tight around his cock, his mind blanks and he can only squeeze an arm around your stomach, the other one is squeezing the meat of your thigh, trying anything to hold back from blowing his load so fast when he just got his dick inside. “Fuck, f- I need a second,” and you’re breathlessly agreeing, squeezing his forearm, tugging his hair, whimpering in his ear. It’s almost too much entirely.

The pleasure doesn’t die down, but he manages to breathe through it, focusing on kissing your sweaty skin. And after a brief moment, you let go of his arm to pat it, asking if he’d be able to move now, leaning all of your weight onto him.

The first thrust out blinds him, pushing back in punches the breath out of his lungs. The way you’re breathing, sounds like you’re just as affected as him. He hopes, in a distant thought, that this wouldn’t be a one-time thing. Hopes that by the end of this, when the two of you are spent and exhausted and filthy, you’ll let him touch you again.

Minutes go by after slow jerks of his hips and then you whine, asking if he could go faster and fuck if his hips didn’t snap and the sound of skin smacking against skin, it’s enough to make the both of you groan. Fucking you, on his couch by the way, is the main wet dream. And the fact it’s happening right now? He’d come right then and there if he hadn’t worked so hard to come down from just that. Setting a much faster, a bit brutal pace, he’s hurtling towards his orgasm quickly, he can feel it.

“Let go of my hair,” he gasps, and as soon as you do, accidentally letting go of his forearm, he pushes on your shoulder and back, adjusting as needed as he works up to what he wanted to do earlier. Pressing your face into the cushion and fucking you like he’d die if he stopped. Your moans shift into sobs when he reaches around your front, burning at both ends.

And in a moment, in a flash, he squeezes your hip and leans over you, groaning as he spills come inside of you. He gives a few shallow thrusts, moaning over and over. And he stays there for a second, softening as he pulls out but groans anyways, the sight of his come spilling out of your hole? He acts without thinking, pushing two fingers to keep them in and your cries pull him out of his fuzzy head.

“Are you feeling okay?” He hums your name, pulling out his fingers and rubbing over your skin. Covering it in filth. His heart only pounds harder, he gets up from behind you, letting you lay on the couch. Fuck, seeing your hazy eyes, seeing you in a space he put you in from fucking you alone? He tries his best, grabs the blanket he’d tossed on the back of the couch and wipes you down, stomping the bubbling feeling of something good in his chest as you whine from the touch. “Here, let me take you to bed,” dropping the blanket, he tries his best to help you up before biting his lip and picking you up, hurrying to his room as quickly as possible. He wasn’t the strongest guy out there, and if he dropped you in his attempt to help? When he fucked you- and didn’t that give him butterflies to think about, fucking you hard enough your legs are jelly.

It doesn’t take long for you to come down, wherever you went, and by then, you’re ready to sleep. He thought about tucking you in, because what sight that would be, but the thought of waking up to you in the morning? Maybe fucking you in your sleep if he woke up, hell, you fucking him awake, riding him and using him like he used you? It makes him bite down on his lip to hold back a moan as he slips into bed behind you. And it melts his insides whenever you shift to turn in your sleep, tucking yourself into his chest. Sighing deeply.

He’s so far gone on you.

#simpbur #c: simpbur #eggplicit #c: simpbur smut #simpbur smut #simpbur x reader #simpbur x you #simpbur x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #minors do not interact #minors dni #k: free use #<- sorta #a: neutral

[redr0sewrites]

Kafka (HSR) Headcanons

REQS R STILL OPEN<3 KAFKA IS SO PRETTY OMFG I LOVE WOMEN AUUUGH

🥀CW: Smut in the nsfw part, bondage, marking, overall kinky stuff, non-sexual nudity mentioned in the sfw part

🥀 minors dni with the nsfw portion

SFW:

god i love women

kafka is often very busy, so i see her love language as words of affirmation

she loves flirting with you and whispering sweet things in your ear just to watch you get flustered

she can often be very touchy and flirty, however if it makes you uncomfortable she is shockingly good with boundaries and will simply give you space why would u say no tho

she loves having your head in her lap while she plays with your hair

she enjoys taking baths with you, esp after long or difficult missions

she will go all out, she will light candles, put rose petals and bubbles in the water, epson salt cuz its soothing, anything you like. there WILL be romantic music playing softly in the background, i said what i said

she likes to give you back massages and will give you small kisses on the back of your neck

she is VERY protective of you, i wouldnt say to a super controlling level but enough where she gets jealous pretty easily

she is actually so bad at dropping hints like she will flirt with anyone and anything but the second she caught feelings for u she had no idea what to do

she legit just teased u and made fun of u, you would probably think she hated you for awhile until you figured out that she was obsessed with u

have u seen her fit? yall def share a closet

her clothes are your clothes and vice versa

seeing you in her clothes sets something off in her i swear

this often leads to steamy makeout sessions and yk what else

SHE LOVES DOING YOUR MAKEUP AND HAIR SHE WOULD HELP YOU GET READY EVERY DAY IF SHE COULD

she will also let you do hers, but not super often since shes kinda busy sometimes and doesnt want to take forever getting ready

the type of person who can walk for hours and hours forEVER in super tall heels/platforms or "walk it off" after literally being beaten to near death in battle but will complain for days if she gets even the tiniest paper cut

likes giving back hugs

this is random but i feel like she eoukd enjoy puzzles and word games

YALL R THE TYPE TO GO ON FANCY DATES YALL R THE BIGGEST POWER COUPLE EVER

she always, ALWAYS pays for u, holds the door for u, she will hold ur shoes if they're bothering u/she will carry u if she can, LITERALLY A MIX BETWEEN GENTLEMAN AND MILF BEHAVIOR

she will prob introduce u to the other stellaron hunters if u dont already work w them

her friends r ur friends now

yall have self care dates where u get ur nails, hair, and skin care done and go to fancy spas or get massages im too broke to do this idk what people actually do at a spa

overall amazing and wonderful we ignore the fact that shes insane bc its hot

NSFW:

here we gooo

switch energy SWITCH ENERGY

when shes more subby shes still in control, i feel like she would def be a power bottom at least

really enjoys commanding you and ordering you around, gets off on your obedience and your disobedience

HAIR PULLER

she WILL wear a strap and use toys on you, putting a vibrator to your clit/cock while your tied down and watching you squirm and whimper, using leg spreaders to hold ur legs apart while she eats u out/sucks u off, paddles, rods/dildos, thrusting vibrators, she has it ALL

if u dont have stereotypically "female" genitals/or even if u do, she will peg u. there is no escaping it. she will overstimulate you and she will fuck u until ur begging for her to stop, thighs shaking, chest heaving, sobbing and pleading for a break

IDK IF I SAID THIS ALREADY BUT SHE WILL TIE U DOWN AND SHE WILL USE INTRICATE AND PRETTY DESIGNS AND ROPES TO DO SO

she very much enjoys riding ur face, seeing your face covered in her slick below her... godd ur gonna be up the whole night

exhibitionist (i am prob spelling this wrong💀) SHE LIKES PRESSING U UP AGAINST WINDOWS WHILE THERES PEOPLE OUTSIDE AND FUCKING U FROM BEHIND WITH HER STRAP

"oh? your upset about them seeing us? so what? dont worry your pretty little head about trivial things like that dolly, i'll take care of everything for you~" *proceeds to fuck u until ur babbling and no more worried are forming in ur head*

into sensory play as well

ur tied down and blindfolded and she will blot hot air against ur cunt/cock, run an ice cube up and down ur thighs, leave hickeys or kisses on ur thighs, trace a feather around ur chest and trail it down ur abdomen, just above where u want her, so close but so, so far...

perhaps she has a mommy kink, but it would take a little while to discover it 👀

wears lingerie on a regular basis and will strip in front of u at the end of the day leaving u in flustered in shock she loves seeing u all flushed and embarrassed omg

tease teas tease sOO UNFAIR

WILL TEASE U FOR DAYS ON END JUST TO GET U TO SUBMIT

OVERALL THE PERFECTEST AND HOTTEST LOVER U CAN EVER IMAGINE

hi guys cant believe i just wrote this anyways can u tell i have a preference LMFAOO shes just so cool <3 i might have a type *side eyes kindael, kafka, rosaria, and all the other pink/red associated women who r also fucking insane that i simp for* sorry i havent been super active lately, i prob wont be for a little while im going on vacation. however, reqs are still open i am BEGGING for reqs lmao😭 hope u enjoyed! lmk of any errors/gendering issues, hope u enjoyed

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr smut #wlw #kafka honkai star rail #kafka hsr #kafka x reader #kafka smut #kafka x gender neutral reader #kafka x you #kafka x y/n #kafka headcanons #i love women sm #she better come home #kafka i have blade too pspspsps #ive already started saving even tho i legit pulled bladie yesterday (technically today since it was 1am) #god shes just so cool #😎 #the tism is tisming #honkai stair rail

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Five

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, size difference/kink, praise kink, breeding kink, alcohol consumption, tattooing, blood, sexual tension, masturbation, fingering, p in v, mating/bonding, mentions of knotting, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: 11.3k (i know i said it wouldn't be long, i'm so sorry i literally do not have an excuse)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Cheers to the final chapter of this series, guys. Thanks for coming along for the journey! 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closed when the first rays of sunshine beamed through the marui pod, shining on your face – waking you up.

----

The heavy, quick thump of your heart pounds in your ears, drowning out the waves that crash onto the shore outside your marui. Whilst the first rays of sunlight shine on your face, heating it up and making your eyelids flutter. Smacking your dry tongue against the roof of your mouth, the need for water becomes exigent.

You try to swallow whatever saliva you could pool in your cheeks, but it’s not nearly enough to clear the dryness of your throat. Looking to your left, you see Ralak sleeping soundly, head propped up on his makeshift bedhead with a hand resting on your inner thigh. He fell asleep mid-checking on you, wooziness of the fermented fruit getting the best of him.

As you sit up slowly, the soreness of your pelvis becomes undeniable. You take your time scooting back, leaning into the headboard as you catch your breath. Everything feels delayed, like pandora is spinning at an even slower pace. And that’s when the headache hits. Like you had just gotten in the middle of herd of stampeding 'angtsìk (hammerhead titanotheres).

You groan, ball of your palm rubbing a tight circle into your pulsing temple. A gust of wind blows the flap of your marui open, prickling your skin from the coolness of it. You feel your nipples harden into peaks on your chest, a hand quickly moving to cover them.

Oh.

Ralak had taken your iknimaya top off sometime during your sleep and hung it by the entrance of your marui to dry. It’s blood red leaves make a rustling noise as the draught of wind breezes through them, little rays of sunlight shining through the slivers of space.

Gently removing his hand from your thigh, you get out of the bed and make your way over to the swaying top. There’s a wobble in your step, dizziness swirling in your head making it hard to walk straight. When you finally get your hands on the top, you contemplate whether you should even put it on or not.

“As much as I love seeing you with nothing on...” A raspy voice startles you as two large hands slide down the sides of your waist, “...I love the way you look in that.” Ralak nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, rubbing his nose into the suppleness of your skin. “So, take care of it.” He mumbles, pressing his warm body against you. “And if you are cold... come back to bed.”

Is this my Ralak? You think, turning around to confirm if this talkative man is indeed your mate.

And that’s when you see that inebriated stare – the same gaze he had during his flashback a little over a week ago. Except, this time there’s a smug look to his face, corner of his lip curling upwards into a smirk. When you inspect a little further, you see the darkness under his eyes and the dampness of his hair.

“Lak. How long did you sleep? Are you–” You lean in to get a whiff of him, only to regret it a second later. “Eywa.” You mumble, looking at the shelf behind him to see the empty bottle of pxir. “Did you finish that last night? By yourself?”

“Mmm. Perhaps.” He hums, curving his back to snuzzle into your neck once more, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in close.

“I see. So, it takes a bottle of pxir to get you to talk, hm? What else does a bottle of pxir do to you?” You tease, hand smoothing over his morning bulge, hard as rock and sheathed.

“Ah, tanhì. I am not that drunk.” He reaches behind you to retrieve the top. “...I would not do that before you are healed.” He pulls away from you, “I hurt you last night.” His voice falters as he slips the top over your head, securing the back with a quick knot.

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, purse your lips and shake your head. “Is that why you couldn’t sleep? Kept drinking? Ralak. I’m fine. Really.” You cup his cheek, trying to show him the sincerity in your eyes.

“I gave your father my word.” He utters, breaking eye contact.

Brows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try look him in the eye. “Your word?”

He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours. “To never let anything happen to you.”

For a moment, you feel those butterflies in your stomach, fluttering away like they did the first day you laid eyes on this man. It’s sweet. Seeing such a big, strong man feel this way over a little blood. Because that’s what it was – just a little blood. Surely, other na’vi experience something similar during their first time, too. You move your hand to cover your mouth, feeling a scoff making its way up your throat.

“Pfft. So that’s what you two were talking about?” You ask with raised brows, and when they pinch together you let out a chuckle. “You were trying to fuck me, not kill me Lak.” You jester, but he didn’t find it as funny as you did, glaring down at you with a deadpan expression.

“Look, I wanted it. I still want it.” You grip his jawbone, pulling him in to look at you in the eye. “And I feel fine now.” You tell a white lie, hoping to make this gentle giant feel better.

He shakes his head, letting out a long sigh. “No. You do not. You still smell... wounded.” He utters the last word with a wince. “And I have been checking.”

Nothing gets past this man. Not when he has mastered the ability to tune into his body and all his senses. You gnaw on your bottom lip, little pointed canines nicking the thin flesh. The metallic taste of blood floods your tongue, setting off a spark in your brain. You scan his bare, sinewy torso and catch sight of his shoulder. Taking a quick breath in, you understand what he means by a ‘wounded’ scent.

“Well, I hurt you too. So, we’re even. Okay?” You insist, hand grazing over the scabbed-up bite mark on his shoulder.

He cocks his brow and scoffs, quickly glancing at the dark red indentations before looking back down at you like you just told the joke of the century. “That little scratch?”

Your drop your hand from his jaw and straighten your smile, mirroring his blank expression from earlier. Ralak and his word infamous word ‘scratch’. And most importantly, why didn’t he find your actual joke funny? Maybe you should make the best of this situation, then. Your eyes become beady, peering at him with limited vision.

“Fine. You hurt me.” You state, shrugging your shoulders a bit. His brows exchange a peck, ears twitching and jaw clenching. Hearing the confirmatory words made his heart sink. “But there is one thing you can do to make it up to me.”

You walk behind him towards the shelf of different sized and coloured bottles – some dusty, some not – and grab the fullest one. When you spin around, he has the guiltiest expression on his face, prepared to do anything to remedy the situation. It almost makes you want to stop with your little scheme and cradle him close into your bosom until he knows it’s okay. But not after his little scoff.

“My tattoo.” You sing, voiced feigned with innocence. 

He exhales a sigh, smile slowly creeping up on his face once he’s figured you out. “Alright, little one.” He chuckles, stretching over you to grab the drinking bowl from the top shelf – far out your reach. He plunks it into your hand and takes the bottle from your grasp, popping it open with his back-teeth. With a few glugs your cup is full, prompting him to nudge it to your lips.

“You drink. I get everything ready.” He says before turning his heel to walk out of the marui pod. As he’s lifting the flap to the door, he projects his voice, “It will help with your head.”

It feels like an eternity since Ralak left, leaving you with nothing but you and this drink. You rotate the cup, whirling the iridescent colours of the pxir. It smells much better than the bottle you shared last night, and tastes better too.

It’s sweeter, with a slight bitter aftertaste. You knock it back as if it were a medicinal concoction that your grandmother gave to you, wincing as the burn trails down your throat. You let out an ah and lay back into the cot, waiting for Ralak’s return. It’s been almost an hour now, and yet –

Still no Ralak.

You get up with a huff, pacing around the marui as you fidget with your thumbs. The nerves are setting in knowing that you’re about to get your first tattoo. But what makes it worse is where you’re getting this damn tattoo. Anxious – and thirsty – you pour yourself another cup, downing it in one go. Then another. And another.

At this point, it’s got no aftertaste at all. Just pure sweetness.

Once you swallow and go to put the cup down for good, you see Ralak standing by the marui door, hands above his head holding onto the stilt. It’s as if he were there watching you, waiting patiently for you to become aware his presence.

Unclothed and exposed right in front of your eyes.

The same drunken eyes peer back at you, ocean blue with a glint of gold, slightly lidded and glazed with something deeper than just lust. He stares at you longingly, wet hair plastered to his chest, right between his erect nipples. The more your gaze trails down his body, the more you realise how strong this man really is.

Each dip and ridge of his muscular physique is on full display, crossed ribs protruding from the stretched position he’s assuming. It’s like he’s posing like this just to... tease you. Because when you wonder down a little further, counting the stripes of that tattoo, he clears his throat. Loud. As if to say, ‘eyes up here’. 

No sort of grating noise could avert your gaze from this. His cock.

Its thick. Veiny. So heavy that it hangs down, resting against his thigh. His balls stay firm underneath it, sides of them barely peeking out around his girth. His head is barely sheathed, just the tip poking out – glistening with a tiny bead of precum. You swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, reminding yourself to breathe.

“See something you like?” His voice is deep and gruff, hands falling from the stilt to his sides.

“Mmm. Perhaps.” You repeat his words from earlier in a similar tone of voice.

“Ah.” He says with a slight smirk, bending down to reach for the small woven basket. “Is that so?”

“Mhm.” You hum, smile growing wider as he approaches you.

At this point, you’re all woozy in the head – bubbly yet heavy. Your shoulders bow, weight of your body increasing as the minutes pass. And soon your eyes are so lidded that you can barely see the man in front of you. Letting out a slow breath, you blink lethargically, leaning in to see what’s in the basket.

“Been a good girl for me, I see.” Ralak husks, observing your less than sober state.

“Only because you took so long.” You retort, hand darting to grab onto his bicep for support.

Hand missing his arm entirely, you lose your balance and start stumbling towards the basket. He catches you, body slumping into his as he steadies you. He takes a quick glance over to the half empty bottle on the shelf, before looking back down at you with wide eyes and a growing smirk.

“Well, my little rou tanhi [drunk freckle/star]. I had to hunt for squid, didn’t I?” He says, dipping his hand into the basket to retrieve the squids’ ink sac. 

“That’s – that’s what you’re putting inside my skin?” You hiccup, examining the black, blubbery sac. It looks like a vein, with a more bulbous end.

Ralak nods as he moves quickly, setting up the area as best and clean as he can. He pulls out two low stools from the corner of his marui. Laying a thin cloth over one stool, he carefully places the delicate ink sac on it, reaching back into the basket to retrieve the other items.

Sitting on the other stool, he pulls out a bowl, blackened by the ink from his own tattoo, and a wooden tool. It’s lengthy, with the bone-white tooth of a skimwing lodged into it. Their teeth are needle-like, piercing the skin with ease and precision. Using the tooth, he pierces the ink sac and pours all the contents into the stained bowl.

“Where?” Ralak asks nonchalantly, taking out a similar tool, without the pointed end.

You close the distance between you two, resting a hand on his shoulder and pushing your crotch into his face. His head snaps up, eyes directly in front of... you. Your exposed skin. Your soft folds, touching one another to hide your clit. His eyes widen a bit, gaze coming to a standstill to take it all in.

“See something you like?” You giggle, breaking him out of his trance.

He swallows thickly, eyelids fluttering as he tries to peel his eyes away from such a... delectable sight. They trail up your body, lingering at your crimson-coloured top, before landing on your downward gaze. He cocks a brow inquisitively, quickly glancing back down to your bare pelvis before locking eyes with you once more.

Ralak places a gentle hand on your lower abdomen, “Here?”

You smile, nodding your head slowly. “Just like yours.” You say quietly, hand momentarily lifting from his shoulder to tie his hair into a loose, messy bun. “Exactly... like yours.”

It’s the way you said the words that sent a shiver down his spine. He tries to fight the curl of his lips, denying himself the pleasure from you wanting a tattoo just like his. There’s something about you with a matching tattoo that makes him feel loved, special – horny.

“Are you sure, tanhì?” He asks through a low, steady voice, peering up at you achingly.

“Yes. It is special to me.” You gulp, nodding slightly. “To us. To mark the beginning of our life together.”

He gives you a firm nod, dropping his head to smile his growing, beaming smile. Hand falling from your abdomen, he fetches a small cloth and a jelly-like substance from the basket. Your stomach tenses when he smears the cold substance on your skin, rubbing it in until it evaporates.

 After cleaning the area, he readies himself with the pointed tool, dipping the needle-like tooth into the bowl of ink. Barely grazing the skin, he traces out the design of the tattoo on your skin, providing himself with a pattern to tattoo with precision. That alone hurt.

“Wait. I-I need more.” You say quickly, voice laced with anxiety.

Ralak takes a glimpse at the nearly empty bottle on the shelf and continues with his task. “Give it more time.” He mutters, dipping the pointed-tip of the tooth into the ink, positioning it carefully over the pattern.

Tip of the needle hovering a millimetre away from your deep blue skin, he waits patiently for your body to tell him to start. After a few moments, he senses you relaxing, taking it at his cue to start the process. With the end of the blunt tool, he taps the end of the pointed tool, penetrating your top of skin with the tooth.

Ralak’s gazes snaps up to yours as soon as he removes the needle, “hurts?”

The sting is barely noticeable, feeling more like heat than pain. You shake your head with a wobbly smile and tighten your grip on his shoulder. He continues with the tattoo, piercing your skin continuously until your little nails sink so deep into his skin it draws a little blood.

“Sorry.” You utter out a strained apology, realizing you’ve practically mutilated both shoulders now.

He lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head a bit as he pricks you once more, gently blowing on your reddened skin. The cool air helps a bit, but at this point, it’s welted and raised – stained with a sheer layer of blood. He’s only just finished one of the 6 stripes on the left side of your navel, and the first eclipse is already starting. Resting your free hand on your hip, you take a few deliberate breaths, doing your best to slow your galloping heart.

It’s such an intimate, overwhelming experience.

“A break? With some more pxir, yes?” He suggests, already putting down the tattooing tool.

“Yes... please.” You groan with trembling lungs, legs going all wobbly from how long you’ve been standing.

You go to lay down on the cot, spreading your legs just enough for him to see. He tries his best not to look, immediately dropping his head and fixating his gaze onto his darkened fingertips. But with a little, filthy moan of ‘pain’, his gaze flies up, landing right where you want it to.

Legs spreading a little more, he becomes mesmerized by the little show you’re putting on for him. He stares through lidded eyes that become glossy with greed and desire. Like he wants to pin them down and devour you on the spot. He huffs out a sigh, reluctantly slamming his eyes shut, denying himself the pleasure.

“Tanhì. Do not tempt me. You now have two wounds to heal from.” Ralak utters the words in a low voice.

Oh, right. Choosing to have your tattoo in this particular spot would definitely make things... a bit more painful. You close your legs, accepting your failed attempt to seduce your mate and lie back into the soft pillow. The ceiling is spinning, but not nearly as fast as it should be for this tortuous process to be over with.

Rolling your head to the side, you look at Ralak, whose eyes are still closed. “Lak.” You whisper, prompting him to look at you. “I could use more pxir now.”

Ralak stands up and walks over to the shelf and retrieves the bottle. He pours the rest of it into two cups, one for him and one for you. Handing you your drink, he sits next to you on the bed, resting his hand on your inner thigh. You sit up and take the cup, chugging it before he can even put his to his lips.

“Another.” You mumble, handing him back the empty cup.

“Easy, my paysyul.” He chuckles, pouring you another drink.

----

It’s been a week since you got your first tattoo, which took two days to complete, leaving you dumbfounded at how Ralak was able to tattoo himself. Since, you’ve not only added three beads to your songchord, but also a piece of the cork from the bottle you shared after your... eventful first time together.

You had pretty much healed three days after your iknimaya night, but your tattoo remains irritated. Nothing you couldn’t handle, just a little inflammation with an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. Not when Ralak’s watching, at least. He’d be quick to shoot you a scowl, instilling some level of obedience in your little, defiant body.

Despite his continuous repudiation of your attempts to become intimate, he would do his nightly... examinations. Insisting that you still smelled ‘wounded’, he’d spread your legs during your slumber and ‘check on you’. Or maybe it was more so to check you out. To see your plump folds and the way your little nub peeks out between them.

Sometimes he’d let his gaze linger a little too long to be considered an act of benevolence. But rather, an act of greed and lust. But he just couldn’t help it, you look so... perfect. So untouched. Soft and supple. Like silk under his calloused touch. It’s maddening, taking everything in him to look away and close your legs.

Truth be told, he was unsure of what he was really looking for, all he was going from was your scent. He knew it was radiating from this specific area, and truly didn’t want to take any chances and accept your advances if you weren’t fully healed and ready. At that point, you had just accepted the way things were and let him get along with whatever he needed to do to feel better.

And you’d pretend to be asleep, enjoying whatever little touch you could get from him.  

Other than that, Ralak has been nothing but sweet and patient with you, as he usually is. Bringing you breakfast in bed was one of his favourite things to do, other than cooking the meal itself. Meticulously diced fruits and freshly caught fish, plated perfectly, and presented by the chef himself – in all his naked glory.

That was another thing.

After mating, Ralak seemed to have lost his tewng [loincloth] altogether. Always walking around with nothing but maybe his cumberband or chest piece. At first, it was fun and tempting, putting a shy smirk on your face whenever you’d see his heavy cock laying freely between his thighs. But now, it’s just downright torment – teasing at its finest.

No matter how many times you ‘accidentally’ flashed him, bent over a little too much, or just straight up went naked too, he would continue with the task at hand, completely unbothered. You could look, but you couldn’t touch. Until you grew so fed up when you saw him in the most torturous pose of them all.

Until tonight.

----

Ralak sits comfortably on his knees in the soft, wet sand, sharpening the point of his spear. He’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t even realize your stare, nor the little strand of curly hair in the centre of his forehead. Even kneeling, this giant remains... a giant. Thick and burly, muscular physique defined from the way the last rays of sunshine on his skin.

His freckles twinkle, darker blue swirled and striped patterns moving with how his muscles tighten and untighten as he presses the waterstone against the blade. Every now and then he would dip the stone into the water to rewet it.

You watch him intently, counting the number of times he rewets the waterstone. How many times he swipes the blade. How many abs pop out as he leans further back to get a better look at the entire length of the spear. How many stripes in that tattoo that started it all. All of which, turn out the be the same number.

Six.

And once you got to the sixth stripe, your eyes trail down its length, catching sight of the singular dot right at the base of his cock. Swallowing the excessive saliva pooling in your mouth, your lidded gaze pierces into him, taking in every small detail of his cock. Barely sheathed. Thick. Slightly veiny and darker towards the glossy tip.

Then, he chucks the spears over his shoulder as if they were little twigs back from hometree, making a clunking noise so loud you couldn’t help but avert your piercing gaze upwards. You bite your lip from the motion, so touch deprived you begin to fantasize about being his little vultsyìp [stick; branch] again, draped over on his shoulder as he carries you back up to the marui.

Yet he remains focused on anything but you, trying his upmost best to maintain what sliver of composure you allow him to have left. The restraint is visibly plastered on his face – gathered brows and a tensed jaw. You slide a hand behind your back, untying the knot of your loincloth, allowing it to drop to your feet.

“Mind having a look? It’s a little itchy.” You ask, voice feigned with innocence.

His concerned gaze snaps up to your tattoo, eyes darting in all directions to scan the inking properly. After seeing that it’s just fine, his features soften upon realizing what you were actually doing. “Looks fine.” He mutters, eyelids fluttering a few times, landing his gaze upon yours.

And when you meet his ocean blue eyes, you swear they lustre over with something of wanton – of greed. Silently telling you how badly he wants to pin you down into the sand and slide himself inside you. To fill up your little body with every single inch of himself, until you’re moaning nothing but his name. You can feel the flutter of your stomach – excitement from thinking your attempt at seducing this overly-patient giant was finally a success.

Then he looks away.

As if he didn’t just fuck you with his eyes. As if he didn’t just worsen the sexual tension that’s been brewing between you two for over the past week, and honestly – few months. Eywa, that makes you frustrated. Fuck – no, it makes you angry. So upset to the point you huff out a ‘hmmph’ and walk away to prepare yourself for an early bed.

“Tanhì!” Ralak shouts after you, shuffling to his feet with the spears still on his shoulder. “Y/n!”

You ignore his calls, storming up to the marui pod. You sit on the end of the bed, face buried in your hands as you try to calm down. But the more you sit here, the bigger the flame grows in your chest. It’s obvious that you’re ready to try again, yet he’s blatantly ignoring your advances. At this point, you may have to try and pleasure yourself.

Keyword being ‘try’.

You’d never been able to make yourself feel all that great, let alone cum. But at this rate it seems like you have no other choice. That’s it. You’ll make yourself cum. No need for him, right? Right. You knew Ralak wouldn’t follow you when you’re this upset. He’d let you come to him when ‘you’re ready’, rather than invading your personal space.

You hype yourself up, lying flat on your back and closing your eyes. You allow for your wandering hands to barely graze your body, hardening your nipples into peaks almost instantly. Parting the red leaves of your top, you expose your breasts, thumbs giving them both a flick.

Listen to your body. Ralak’s voice echoes in your mind – an intrusive memory resurfacing all on its own.

Rather than scaring you, his voice arouses you, back bowing against the bed in response. A hand slips down your stomach, finding comfort between your thighs. You squeeze your hand with your thighs, fingers pressing into the softness of your folds. You let out a breathy, soft moan, tips of your digits now parting your pussy lips.

The cool air hits your exposed bundle of nerves, having you clench around nothingness. Pressing the pads of four fingers onto your sensitive nub, you rub slow, loose circles into it. Little shocks travel through you in jolts, spasming your thigh muscles. It feels like too much, but not enough all together.

You grunt, level of frustration doubling by the second. Dipping into your core, you slicken your fingertips, gliding them back up to your clit. You try tighter, faster circles, and apply a little less pressure this time. And fuck, did that make a difference. The wetness of your fingers had them gliding effortlessly over that little nub, making it stiffen beneath your fingertips.

Head sinking into the softness of his makeshift pillows, your mouth hangs agape, breathy moans losing their softness and turning into little mewls and whines. Your hips lift off the bed, chasing your building orgasm. You try to zero in on the feeling, but it feels so weird, but oh-so fucking good at the same time. It’s almost like the flame in your chest spread throughout your body – heat pooling in your core.

“What are you doing?” A thick, accented voice pierces the air, gruff and monotonous.

You’re too into the moment to stop – to even bat an eye. You can hear your mate’s voice, but what you’re doing feels so good that you can’t even tell if it’s just another intrusive thought or if its real. You feel your toes curl, hand working even faster as your stomach muscles tense up. You’re so, so close.

And Ralak could tell.

He stands there, beads of water from the ocean rolling off his body, dripping through the cracks of the woven marui floor. Hair plastered to his chest; he stares at the sight unfolding in front of him through lidded eyes. He grits his teeth to hold his tongue, but he couldn’t deny the way seeing you do this to yourself makes him feel.

Aroused. Frustrated. Jealous. Possessive.

“I said. What are you doing?” Ralak growls low in his chest, thick fingers gripping your wrist to put a stop to your frantic movements.

“No. Don’t.” You huff out, fighting his grasp to pick up the pace of your fingers. “Trying to – fuck. Trying to c-cum!”

“I can see that. But why?” He asks through another growl, letting go of your wrist.

“’c-cause – ‘cause you’ve given me no other choice! You won’t even – haah ah – you won’t even touch me, Lak!” You whine loudly, desperately trying to re-establish the perfect movements and pace you had before.

Ralak does nothing but stand stock-still for a few moments, watching his numeyu [student] work hard to make herself cum for the first time. Pride swells his chest, seeing you so close – yet so far away. And for a second, a pang of pity clenches his heart, brows creasing as he watches you squirm about. Has he really been that distant? Distant enough to make you resort to self-pleasure when you have a perfectly capable mate right here?

“Touch you, hm?” He hums lowly, resting his hand on your sweaty thigh, “like this?”

“N-No. Y-You know what I want.” You barely sputter out, shaking your head side to side.

“Say it. Say the words.” He growls, fingertips sinking into your skin.

“Oh. Please, Lak. Please touch me. It’s been too long!” A frustrated, desperate groan falls from your lips, legs snapping wide open.

His eyes widen at the sight of you so vulnerable and exposed; puffy, glistening clit on full display. Gaze flying up to yours, he sees the utter state of desperation plastered all over your face. You already look so fucked out, brows pinched, and lips parted – eyes so lidded he can barely see the glint of gold in them.

“Here?” He breathes, sliding his hand up your thigh and barely brushing his three fingers against your sticky clit.

“Mmm – please.” You pant, grabbing his wrist to position his hand properly. “Right h-here.”

“Ah.” Ralak finally takes a seat on the edge of the cot, eyes fixed on your carnal expression. He presses right into the bundle of nerves, sending a jolt through your legs. “And what next, my numeyu?”

Grip tightening around his wrist, you move his hand erratically, hips moving along with it. You hear the click of his tongue and look up to see the slight shake of his head and curl of his lips. That same smug face he makes when you’re not quite getting something right.

“Karyu. [teacher]” You moan softly, doe eyes peering up into his, lashes fluttering as you blink repeatedly.

His brows jump at the word. It’s been a while since he’s heard it fall from your lips. Your flushed, swollen lips. He looks back up to your little fucked out eyes, glossy with tears and want. He hates to see you cry but for some reason the tears you’re fighting back are only making him hornier. Is that how bad you want his cock? Bad enough to cry about it? His hung cock springs from his thigh, jumping up to slap his stomach.

“Must your karyu teach you how to cum again?” Ralak growls, sliding a finger down to your slickened entrance. “Hm? Were our lessons not enough?” All you can do is mewl and claw at his wrist, lolling your head from side to side. “Answer me.” He says roughly, prodding at your hole with very tip of his digit.

“Yes! Fuck – yes. Please, t-teach me.” You beg breathily, rolling your hips down onto his single digit. Having one last, quick glance between your legs, he clenches his jaw as he slides his finger inside you. And when it comes to a hilt, a moan of relief evades your agape mouth, head sinking back into the soft pillow.

For a fleeting moment, he remains completely still, ensuring that you’re alright. Ralak stares at you, eyes darting in all directions to detect even a hint of pain etched into your features. A brow jumps when he realises that all you’re feeling is pure ecstasy. Taking this as his cue to continue, he pulls his finger back a bit, lining it up with the gummy part of your heat.

“If you want to cum...” He roughly curls his finger, applying a blissful pressure to your sweet spot, earning him a sudden whine from your lips, “...you touch right here. Understood?”

“Mhm. Mhm.” You frantically nod as you hum the words, feeling an itchy feeling brew in your core. You need to scratch it. So. Fucking. Bad. And his finger just isn’t enough. “Mh – more!”

“More?” He smirks, swiping his thumb over your clit. “Like that?” His voice is gruff, and anything but innocent. Like he takes joy in seeing you in such a desperate, needy state. “Or is it her –”

“For the love of Eywa, Ralak. Just fuck me, please!” You cry out, tears now rolling down your cheeks. If he didn’t take care of you now, you’d just lose it. He lets loose a loud chuckle, predatory gaze boring into your innocence. As if your little pleas and begs were entertaining him – getting him off.

“Take all three, then I think about it.” He teases with a cocked brow, pulling out of you tenderly to realign two digits at your opening.

“Y-Yes – Just, hurry Lak.” You whine, tugging at his wrist to sink his fingers inside you. “Oh, shit.” You exhale a sigh of relief. The stretch is divine, filling you up and just barely scratching that itch. To have his two thick fingers buried inside you is like ice on a burn, soothing all your pent-up frustration.

Ralak groans at the way you’re squeezing his digits, pussy so soaked they slip in and out with ease. As badly as he wants to let you know you’re being such a good girl for him, he decides to hold his praise for the bigger stretch. His last finger. Waiting patiently for your body to tell him you’re ready, he uses his free hand to massage your clit.

He fingers you roughly, pussy walls clenching and unclenching around him, telling him to go even deeper inside. Your whole-body squirms around, hips stuttering from your unadulterated desperation. The little, sweet cries and mewls escaping your lips are like music to his ears, sinking him deeper into his state of arousal.

Ralak situates himself between your legs, preparing you for the next stetch. Last time, you took it well, and perhaps if you hadn’t used your mate’s word against him, you would have had more time to adjust to all his fingers. The desperation you feel now is nearly as intense as your iknimaya tonight, but you find the strength to bite your tongue and allow Ralak to take over completely.

With your body now in a state of pure submission, Ralak leans in to kiss you, slowly sliding his last finger inside you. Your moan of pleasure is muffled by his soft lips, last knuckles meeting the softness of your plump pussy lips. He pulls away from you, moving his wet kisses up to your ear.

“That’s my good girl.” He whispers in a gruff voice, bottom lip brushing against the lobe of your ear. Angling his wrist to prod right into your sweet spot, he pumps all three fingers in and out of you.

“Feels... s-so – so good.” You pant quietly, rolling your hips into him. He can feel your body opening even more for him, sweet nectar dripping down to his wrists. After two more pumps of his fingers, you push him away from you, causing him to settle into the dips of his feet.

Both of you pant for air, chests heaving wildly, fully exposed and on edge. You can see the way his cock twitches to be sunk inside something – anything. It’s throbbing and so hard it must be painful, bead after bead of precum just oozing from his slit. It’s almost as if he enjoyed depriving himself of the pleasure of your tight cunt around his cock.

But tonight, there’s a glint in his eye.

A predatory, rapacious one. And when you exchange glares, there’s a silent understanding between the two of you. The understanding that you both want it just as bad as the other. The understanding that his patience has been stretched thin – so thin that all he needs is a little push.

“My body is ready, Ralak. I want you inside me, please.” You beg pathetically, looking him deep in his eyes.

Your sensitive pussy walls ache to know what it feels like to tighten around him, all gummy and slimy from the slick your body won’t stop producing. It’s like it’s in overdrive, sensing how big your mate is, and doing what it needs to accommodate his sheer size. Your legs spread wider, glistening pussy on full display – acting as bait to lure him in.

Ralak repositions himself closer between your legs, staring intently at the soft flesh, flushed red with arousal. Gaze darting up to yours, he sees your eyes gloss over with want, more tears of desperation threatening to roll down your heated cheeks.

He can tell you were ready, body completely submitting itself to him and his touches. He’s never seen you this needy, not even in heat. This past week has been tortuous for the two of you, waiting patiently for you to heal fully before touching you in the way you want.

“You must tell me if it hurts. Please tanhì.” He says low in his chest, rubbing his crown of his cock between your slickened folds.

“I will. Please.” A breathy whine parts your lips, hips shimmying down towards his. Left leg loosely resting on his thigh, you hold your right leg back, knee brushing against your shoulder.

He looks as if he were in pain, grimacing from the anticipation of possibly hurting you again. He ensures to take his time, aware of how well-endowed he is beneath his loincloth. He begins rubbing soft, loose circles in your swollen, sticky clit. It’s all red and puffy, making wet, sloppy noises with each stroke with his tip. He lingers there for as long as he can, playing in your wetness in hopes it’ll make it less painful for you.

Now with your verbal consent, he leans in, supporting his body weight with his hands nestled by your sides. His hips snap, throbbing, veiny cock sliding over your tender clit. You feel his warm, swollen tip poke into your lower stomach, pearls of precum leaking into the dip of your navel. He pulls back, trying to line his cock up with your entrance once more, hips stammering to sink himself inside you.

Fat tip bucking against your tight hole, it slides between your pussy lips and over the bundle of shot nerves again. You can’t help but moan, the sensation of his warm cock rubbing against you only makes the need to be fucked grow stronger. His breaths turn raggedy, huffing and puffing hot air as he snaps his hips back a final time. You reach down with a trembling hand and grip his girth, positioning him at your entrance.

“Relax for me, tanhì.” He grunts, shuffling his left knee closer towards you. “Let me in.” He feels you loosen up, releasing the breath you weren’t aware that you were holding. “A little more. There you go.” He hums, point of his tip now slowly breaking the resistance.

He pushes gently. Carefully. Slowly. Your chins meet your chests, both watching as his tip pops inside you. You take a sharp, shaky breath, feeling the immense pressure of something so thick bury itself into your tight opening. Eyes flicking up to yours, he searches your face for any kind of discomfort.

“Oh Lak. ‘ts s-so big.” You whimper under your breath, hand flying up to grip his forearm. “D-deeper.”

Inebriated eyes struggle to widen at your words, just like he struggles to fight against his urges to slam the rest of his cock inside you. He takes a deep breath, mesmerized by the way your cunt sucks him in another two inches. You’re so tight that he can’t help but grimace, brows tightening from the way you’re pinching him.

He stops, wanting to let you adjust to what’s inside you so far, only for you to wrap your slender, soft tail around his thigh. You know that it drives him crazy, it’s one of his favourite parts of you. A gruff grunt vibrates in his throat, hips bucking on their own to sink another couple inches inside your wet, tight cunt.

“Deeper. Deeper.” You blubber, grip on his forearm tightening as he obliges. You want all of him, every, single, fucking inch of him to stuff you until you feel queasy. Until he couldn’t push anymore. Until he can’t do anything but grind himself inside you. “Deeper!” You cry out a pathetic whine, just as his mushroomy head presses intp your cervix.

Ralak continues to push against the resistance, biting down on his bottom lip from the way you squeeze him so tightly. He bottoms out in your slippery pussy, his tattoo finally kissing yours. They align so perfectly, each line pressed against one another with precision.

He’s so deep inside you, that it feels like he’s in your tummy, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your mouth hangs open, tongue relaxed against your bottom lip as saliva dribbles down your chin. Brows kissing in fervour, you stare into his eyes while you relish in the sensation of your mate all the way inside you for the first time. He watches as the colour in your face turns almost purple, nails sinking so deep into his skin that they draw a little blood.

“Breathe for me, tanhì.” He huffs, easing up on his pushes. With his reminder, you gasp for air, salty tears flowing onto your tongue. “You are doing so well. You know that?”

“Oh – Ralak.” You let out a sweet, little cry, nipples hardening into stiff peaks from his extra hoarse voice. You couldn’t stop the tears; they always came when you feel too much of anything. And right now, you were feeling so full, so good. Even the stretch feels good, the sting and hint of pain from his cock burrowing all the way inside you.

He could feel the blood slowly trickle down his forearm, but the way your tight walls are nipping at him is much worse. The scent of his blood mixes in the air with the scent of your arousal, sending his nostrils fluttering in fear that he’s hurt you again.

“Feeling pain?” He asks, breaking eye contact briefly to check if you’re bleeding again. An expression of relief washes over him when he realizes that you’re not – it’s all just him. All he can see is the supple skin pulled taut around his cock, doing its best to stretch wide enough for him.

“No.” You lie, afraid it’ll be a repeat of last time. The pain is more like a burn, but the way the ridge of his cockhead pushes up into your gummy walls masks it just right.

“Tanhì.” He rasps, glancing at your disconnected kurus laying on your stomach, silently asking to make tsaheylu – for the truth.

“I – I mean, a little.” You confess, holding both your kurus in next to each other. “Just... stings. Feel me.” You breathe, urge to bond so consuming that your tendrils dance wildly as you move them closer together. Tsaheylu is made hastily, kurus tugging together with a quick, sharp movement. You stare into each other’s lidless eyes, pupils blown to full capacity.

Ralak’s ears tuck next to his skull, brows pinching and lips parting. In an instant, he can feel everything you’re feeling, and for a few moments its just overwhelming. He feels the slight burn between your legs and pants a few times, breath syncing with yours.

“See? You feel…good. Really good.” You moan lowly, finally relaxing your stomach muscles.

“Good.” He gulps, corners of his lips curling upwards. He stays as still as he can, waiting for your body’s command to move. “You feel… tight.”

There’s a moment of silence where you both take in how one another feels. How you can feel each vein of his cock. The way his mushroomy head throbs against your cervix. How warm and soft you feel around his length, sucking him in with greed.

It almost feels like it did when you mated – blown pupils and heightened senses. It’s just another way of connecting with each other. Ralak drops his head, gaze landing on your tattoo, distorted from the way your belly bulges from his cock.

“Oh shit.” He curses under his breath, voice laced with panic. He begins pulling out, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. “That must hurt.” He says, putting all his weight on one hand to caress the bump protruding from your abdomen with the other.

You look down to see his fingers graze over the bulge, shock raising your brows. “I- It doesn’t. I’m fine.”

His hand continues to stroke the bump, fantasizing about how one day this bump would be by something else entirely – his baby growing in your womb. He tries his hardest to fight the arousal brewing in his core, the type that makes his hips snap forward all on their own. All so he can see that bulge protrude even more.

Ralaks’ breathing is so heavy and hard that it’s audible – a low, continuous growl rumbling deep in his chest. Hand slowly sliding down your tattoo, he presses the ball of his palm into your pelvis as his thumb caresses your puffy clit. It makes you squirm a little, walls relaxing and contracting around his cock. He can tell that your body is ready for him, pussy producing so much slick it’s dripping onto his swollen balls.

“Please….” You moan softly, trying to grind into him. “Need you so bad, Lak.”

“Tell me what you need, my little paysyul.” He groans, inching closer to your face, hand moving from your clit to cup your breast. 

“Need you… need you to fuck m-me.” Your breath hitches at the last word, body shuddering from the way his slickened, calloused thumb grazes over your nipple.

“Fuck you, hm?” His accented voice is thick with want – with rapacity. He thrusts into you suddenly, knocking the air out your lungs. “Like that?”

“Mmnfuck! Ye-s.” You inhale shakily, nodding reassuringly as you claw at his face to pull him closer to you. He quickly props himself up on both his elbows, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

Ralak clenches and unclenches his jaw, ears twitching in synchrony, as he tries to resist scratching the itch to pound into you like his own little personal fucktoy. No matter how badly he wants to. To pump you full of his seed. To breed you. To knot you.

He sighs, momentarily closing his eyes to regain his composure. It’s already here, the animalistic instinct to turn you into a vessel to carry his offspring. It’s so close. Creeping up on him like a menace.

His rut.

Though it’s not due for another week, the way you’re staring up at him, eyes glazed over with need, begging him to fill you up didn’t help. Yet, he bites his lip through it, determined to make your real first time a special one. An enjoyable experience. So much so, that he forgets it’s his first time too.

Gently, Ralak. He reminds himself, rocking into you languidly, back muscles rippling with every thrust. Glancing down, he witnesses the bulge move as he rolls his hips into you. Sticky pelvises connected by strings of slick as he pulls out, he grunts quietly, feeling ashamed by how aroused watching you stretch to these lengths makes him feel.

He leans into you, peppering wet kisses down your jaw line, working his way up to the lobe of your ear. “Being such a good girl for me, hm? For your mate.”

You can feel the way his cock moves inside you, so deep and thick that every part of you is being stimulated all at once. You can’t even think straight, not with the way he’s grunting and whispering sweet praises into your ear. You hold on tightly to your mate, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moves at a steady pace.

That hint of pain quickly subsides, morphing into waves of pleasure so intense that it’s etched into your features. Your little mewls and whines turn into soft moans, breathy and shaky from the way he fucks right into your gummy sweet spot. You tighten your hold around his waist with your legs, encouraging him to fasten his pace and deepen his strokes.

“Please. More! Need more of you!” You cry out, nails scraping down his back to pull him in closer. 

“Patience, tanhì.” He huffs, moving his kisses down to your neck, suckling on your supple skin – leaving little bruise like marks behind. “So tiny” A kiss right on the column of your throat, “So tight.” A gentle roll of his hips as he pulls back to look you in the eyes. “My sevin [pretty].”

“Ralak.” You moan softly as you lift your hips up into him, feeling absolutely nothing but absolute and utter bliss at this point. “Please.”

He rolls his hips into you once more, slowly, and tenderly, ridge of his cockhead gliding past your swelling sweet spot. “My mate.” He groans, pulling back just to push himself inside you at a torturously slow pace. “All mine, yes?”

“Yes. Yes. All yours, ma’ lak.” You breathe, snaking your arms around his neck to tug him into you. “F-Faster.” You ask coyly, trying to keep your legs as wide open as you possibly can.

Ralak moves a little faster, but not nearly as fast as you need. He’s so big – so thick that it doesn’t matter the angle, some part of his cock is stimulating every part of you. Looking down, you see himself only halfway buried inside you, refusing to let your tattoos touch anymore.

Beady, displeased eyes snap back up to meet his, “I want to feel all of you.”

Ralak almost laughs, but instead cocks his brow and smirks. He leans down to play in the dip of your collarbone with his tongue, moving quickly to pepper a few kisses on the curve of your shoulder. “You like pain that much?”

For second, you really think about it. His cock is so deep that you feel like you can barely take a full breath. Not to mention the bulge from him being inside you alone. Yet you want all of it. Perhaps you do like pain. But with the way he’s touching you it’s hard to think clearly whatsoever. All that’s running through your head is Ralak pinning you into a mating press and pounding you the way you want.

“I like Ralak. And if Ralak means pain...” You wrap your arms and legs tightly around him, using all your weight and strength to roll him on to his back and situate yourself comfortably on top of him. “...then yes, I like pain.”  

“Is that right?” He huffs as his back slams into the ground, hands instinctively flying to grip the softness of your hips.

“Yes.” You let out a shaky confirmation, bringing your knees to your chest so you’re squatting over him. Sinking all the way down onto his cock, he watches as you suck in every single inch of him with ease. You’re tight – really tight – but you were practically made for him. He exhales a chuckle, finding it interesting how such a little thing could take his cock so well.

“What?” You snap, hands pressing into his firm chest as you reposition yourself on top of him.

“Who knew someone as small as you...” He slides his hands from your hips to your waist, “... would be made for someone like me.”

You gasp as he completely bottoms out inside you, lungs filling with the scent of his arousal, “Someone s-so big?”

He chuckles, calloused thumbs grazing over your raised tattoo, entranced how you can make such an inking like his look so good. There’s just something about the way it trails down to the most sensitive, vulnerable area of your body that drives him crazy.

“I can see why you couldn’t stop staring at mine.” He husks, hand sliding over the stripes to feel their raised texture.

The sensation makes your hips snap back, tattoo still a little sore and itchy. But the way his cock tilts right into your walls washes away the sting with a wave of pleasure. And soon your hips are stuttering all on their own, chasing that budding heat in your core. Every time you move back it feels like a jolt of white-hot pleasure, and when you move forward it’s like –

Satiation.

A feeling of fullness and satisfaction, so intense you feel like you’re about to explode. The sensation is a new one altogether, something you’ve never felt before. It’s so much – so overwhelming you could just scream. It’s like a pressure in your chest, like a heated pot with an airtight lid, about to pop and release.

Your body chases it, grinding back and forth into him at an unrelenting tempo. And the sounds that are coming from your mouth are just straight up vulgar. At this rate, you’re using him for your own pleasure, frenzied movements only increasing in speed and force. He’s so deep the bump protruding from your abdomen has completely deformed your tattoo, pushing against his thumbs.

He presses into it, feeling the crown of his cock through your soft skin. You’re arching your back, angling the tip of his cock to pummel into you even more, fingernails digging deep into his chest for some sort of leverage. You lift your hips up and slam into him repeatedly until the sound of smacking flesh overpowers your filthy noises.

“E-Easy tanhì.” His gruff voice breaks from your erratic movements. “Slow down. You are going to hurt yourself.” He grunts as he grabs your hips to slow you down, feeling his own climax quickly approaching.

“Quiet.” You shush him, weakly smacking away one of his hands to prevent him from ruining this for you. “Fuck. This feels too good. So fucking good. I-I feel like I’m –” You cut yourself off with a quick gasp for air.

Ralak looks up at you with lust in his eyes, pride bubbling in his chest from how you’re working for your climax all on your own. And from the way you’re clamping down around him, he can sense that you’re close. Maybe he could just give into you. Just this once.

“There you go. Just like that.” He encourages you, sliding his thumb between your folds to play with your sticky clit.

“Ugh! Lak.” You moan his name as you release the breath you’ve been holding. Eyes slamming shut, you shift your focus on the unfurling coil in your core. It feels like your nerves are shot, body teeming with pleasure.

Ralak stays still, allowing his little tanhì to do all the work. He can’t peel his eyes away from such a sight. The sight of his mate using him for her own pleasure. It almost sends him over the edge, urge to fuck up into you becoming an itch he must scratch.

“Y-You like how I feel around you. Don’t you?” You breathe, corner of your lips pulling up into a smug little smirk. The question snaps his gaze up to yours, blue eyes locking onto your flushed face. How was it possible? For your face to be more arousing to him than the sight of him inside you. For you, it’s the way he’s staring at you, as if you were the topping on the finest matkayinan dessert.

“Yeah? Haah, ah – say it. Tell your numeyu.” You pant shakily.

Ralak’s jaw twitches, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. He looks like he’s biting on his tongue – literally and figuratively. To hold back even just an ounce of self-control. So not to admit how good it feels when you squeeze him with your innocence.

It’s so pure. Untouched. Unfucked.

“I love it.” He growls through a clenched jaw.

“Oh, fuck.” You let loose a sudden scream, your hand flying to cover your agape mouth. Then there’s –

Silence. You hold your breath, feeling your eyes burn as they gloss over. All you can hear is the sound of your slick smearing all over his pelvic bone as you grind into him, and his intense breathing. Until you feel like you’re about to burst. Your hand falls from your mouth, leaving it wide open.

“Ralak.” You moan his name, although it sounds more like a desperate cry for help.

Rather than answering, he picks up the speed of his thumb, swiping over your swollen clit at a merciless pace.

“Ralak.” Another little cry falls from your flushed lips to let him know you’re close even though he can feel everything through tsaheylu. “Ra –” You cut yourself off with a quick snap of your hips, jamming his head right against your swollen g-spot. “–lak!”

“Ralak!” You cry out for the last time, frenzied movements turning into quick, rough grinding. You gush all over your mate, force of your orgasm so strong that you push him out of you, painting his stomach in your pussy juices as if he were a blank canvas. Your legs shake uncontrollably, all strength of your body washing away to leave you weak and wobbly. Pushing down onto his chest, you do your best to hold your shuddering body up.

“Fuck. Good girl. Good girl.” He curses a well-deserved praise, accent extra thick over such a novel word to him.

“I-I just made mys-self cum, Lak.” You groan breathlessly, feeling the walls of your cunt pulsate around him as confirmation.  

“I can see that tanhì” He chuckles breathily, chin meeting his chest to look at the little puddle of cum you’ve made on him. You look down to see what he’s talking about, blurred vision making it so that you can only see the intense glisten of his skin. You slide one hand down from his chest onto his stomach, feeling a warm, watery liquid glazed over his cyan skin.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorr – ”

“Shh. Again. Do that for your karyu again.” He hums, rolling his hips to grind his cock between your slippery pussy lips.

“Oh – Lak, I – I really don’t know if I can.” You say with trembling lungs, feeling so spent that you’re light in the head.

Ralak clicks his tongue, swiftly moving his hands under your thighs to lift you up. “You can. Hips up.” With one quick movement, he positions the tip of his cock at your tight opening and lets go of your thighs. Due to the heaviness of your body, you slam down onto lap, taking every inch of his cock all at once.

“Oh, great mother!” You cry out her name as a curse, crown of his cock threatening to pierce through your cervix. It hurt so good that you can’t help but grind further into it his relentless pushes. Fuck, maybe you do like pain. White hot pleasure surges through you, but morphs into something totally different when you feel his fingers wrap around and sink into your hips.

He repositions himself, heels of his feet sinking so deep into the cot that there will be dents for weeks. You bob and sway as he wiggles into place, all-consuming eyes boring into yours of delirium. They had a glint of... intent.

Intent to make you cum again.

And again. And – honestly, as many orgasms as he could squeeze out of your little body. And before you can even process all of what’s going on, Ralak begins pounding into you. Wet, squelching noises and sounds of skin smacking against skin become louder than the filthy moans he’s expertly working out of you.

“This is what you want, yes?” He grunts, pulling out just to slam himself back into you a little deeper. “All of me?”

“Lak!” You barely get out, a hand against his tattoo to push him back. “W-Wait, it’s too much –”

“Answer me.” He growls, angling his pelvis to fuck right into your most sensitive spot.

“Oh – fuck! Y-Yes!” You let loose a sudden, hoarse cry of defeat, taking his hammering with no where to run.

He can’t stop the buck of his hips. It’s just the way your heat sucks his in his twitching cock, milking his sticky precum into your empty womb. And that belly bulge – that damn bulge makes it twice as hard to fight to urge to fill you up until it’s even more swollen. He watches as it moves, ramming so hard into you it protrudes a little more with each thrust.

“Then cum for me.”  He demands of you, eyes locked on the way your breasts bounce under your crimson top from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Please! Please –” You beg, unsure what even for. You could already feel yet another orgasm approaching, and it’s not yours. It’s like a heat is transferring through his queue to yours, and down your spine in shocks. You try to close your legs in anticipation of it pooling in your core, setting off your own orgasm.

“Tell me what you need.” He growls, thrusts becoming shorter and deeper, bulge at the base of his cock growing by the second.

He’s on the brink of cumming, and you could feel it.

“I-Inside.” You blubber, head dipping back from the overstimulation as he gets himself off with your tight cunt. He tsks, thrusting up into you hard. “Ugh! I need your cum inside me!”

“Shit.” He growls deeply, manhandling your hips to keep your squirming body down on his cock. You feel it throb inside you, filling up your empty womb right before your pussy walls flutter around him. Your brain short circuits, body convulsing violently before slumping down into his. He holds you tight, giving your sopping cunt a few more deep thrusts, knot prodding at your entrance.

“W-What’s t-that?” You blubber breathlessly into his ear, feeling your eyelids grow heavier.

“Knot.” He barely grunts an answer, thick, sticky seed dripping down the growing, throbbing bulge as it has no where else to go. His fingers dig into your skin, deeper and deeper as he squeezes his eyes shut – resisting the urge to sink his knot inside you too. That would hurt. Too much.

He hums out his orgasm, rocking into you a few times to ensure you’re as full as can be. Well, you feel that way. You’re so full of not only his cock but also his huge load, you can practically feel it slushing around inside you. You groan when the sensation makes you a little queasy.

Ralak feels your discomfort, tenderly pulling out of you. That alone took a while, each inch coming out of you slowly and gently. “You okay?” He huffs, just as his cockhead pops out of you, allowing his warm cum to seep out of you and down your thighs. You nod into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and letting your body rest on top of him.

“You took me so well.” He coos at you, supporting the back of your head with one hand and the swell of your ass with the other. “You know that?”

“Mhm. L-ak.” His name comes out broken as he shuffles to his feet with you in his firm hold. “I see you, ma’ ‘lak.” You mumble, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“I see you, my little tanhì.” He utters the words in a hoarse voice, making his way to the cave to take care of you.

----

Now that you’re all healed and settled in to your new forever home, Ralak urges you to pay your family a visit. It took quite a bit of convincing, and honestly a little bit of bribing, but it worked and here you are – standing in your own family marui. Kiri, Tuk, and Neytiri were out with Ronal and Tsireya, leaving the boys behind.

Just your luck.

“C’mon, let’s see it.” Jake crosses his arms and takes a step back.

“Yeah, y/n. It’s been over a week since we’ve seen you. I haven’t even seen your tattoo yet.” Lo’ak chimes in, leaning against the stilt of his family marui. Neteyam stands tall, keeping to himself as he listens intently to the conversation.

“Guys.” You chuckle nervously, fidgeting with the cork on your songchord.

“Why so nervous, baby girl? Somewhere where we can’t see or somethin’?” Jake jesters, uncrossing his arms to walk behind you, inspecting your back.

“Uh – uhm.” You stumble with your words, looking at Neteyam for some sort of rescue. Rather, he cocks a brow in agreeance with his family. He wants to know too. You look at Lo’ak, who’s now making his way towards you too. It feels like they’re all closing in on you, teaming up on you to give you no other choice.

“Fine. If you guys want to see it that bad.” You shrug, hooking your thumbs under the band of your tewng and tug it down until the six lines begin to show.

The men’s eyes snap down and widen once they all realise what you’re doing. They begin retreating to the back of the marui, hands splayed in front of their faces to shield them from the unfolding sight.

“Alright. Alright!” Jake shouts, waving his hands for you to stop.

“Yep. Nevermind. Message received.” Lo’ak mutters, making his way through the back door of the marui. Before you can even look Neteyam’s way, he’s right behind his baby brother, shaking his head and escaping this whole ordeal.

----------

THE END :)

I hope you guys enjoyed this (slow burn) Ralak series. I just want to give a special thank you to @zestys-stuff for allowing me to bring this man to life in a fic. This collaboration has been unreal and so much fun and honestly, I look forward to doing more collabs with you in the future (cus I know you got more delicious OC’s hidden up your sleeve). You’re so fucking talented and I literally cannot get over it.  

Now, now. Ralak is not gone forever. I’ll be doing special episodes of him (and reader) going forward, and you can expect the first special episode very soon – “Ralak’s First Rut”. It’s a bit of a mind fuck (literally) so bear with me! Anyways.

‘nuff love,

Issy <3

#ralak #ralak smut #avatar smut #awow smut #metkayina #metkayina smut #metkayina oc #oc smut #avatar oc smut #awow oc smut #sully reader #sully reader x oc #oc x sully reader #oc x sully reader smut #na'vi smut #na'vi x reader #na'vi x sully reader #na'vi avatar #Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan #smut #metkayina x omaticaya #metkayina x omaticaya smut #metkayina x fem reader

[withlovetengen]

What to expect in a relationship with Rindou (Nsfw) with a smidge of sfw

Minors go away!!

There isn’t much information about him as much as we wish there was more, so I’m going based off what we know and experiences with individuals who are similar to him in a sense.

This is really just a shit post lol…enjoy~

Rindou is extremely charming, carrying himself with an aloof yet high and mighty presence that will make anyone feel the tension at a close proximity.

Donning a constant smirk or shit eating grin, this man can have you swooning with just a few simple charming gestures

He is extremely sweet and loving to his partner, but that doesn’t stop him from enjoying rough yet sensual play

He doesn’t even need to touch you for you to be turned on, he loves some good mental foreplay, if you’re able to hold a conversation with him throughout sex you’d have him wrapped around your fingers.

He loves mind games, teasing etc. when you’re not with each other, sending him nudes or playful messages would send him over the edge awaiting your arrival home.

I feel like Rindou can be quite the talker once he’s comfortable with you. He will talk about almost ANYTHING under the Sun. If you two share similar interests it would make him fall even harder for you, even if you both liked totally different things it would make him find you all the more interesting.

He plays fair and wants equal give and takes between his partner and himself. What he gives he expects back and so forth.

^ 69 would probably be one of his favourite positions (everyone wins)

He loves music (as we already know) and a partner who shares similar tastes in music, or even shows him different bands or songs etc even going as far as making a playlist for him, would steal his heart in seconds.

Going back to the “equal” talk, he is big on giving you pleasure, but he does expect the same amount back so be aware!

They say libra men tend to be good in bed, idk much about Libra men but I do know enough about Rindou to say he’d be the best fuck of your life no doubt.

He is extremely good at giving head, but again he expects the same treatment.

Rindou is and can be VERY romantic. He isn’t the second best boyfriend for nothing 😭

This reflects in all aspects of life between the two of you, whether you just started dating OR making it to your 25th anniversary.

Honestly, I think he loves cheesy sex (when I say cheesy I mean this lightheartedly) he’s a sucker for candles and rose petals, dim the lights and set the mood.

He can do quickies, but the comfort of your own space with just the two of you alone works best for him.

He is very responsible and respectful. He knows when to keep sex separate from professional settings, prying eyes, and won’t put you in an uncomfortable spot in public.

Dirty talking is very important, but he doesn’t appreciate OVERLY nasty and aggressive comments.

A simple “yes daddy!!” Would make that man soft in an instant 😭

Telling him how he’s making you feel, what you wanna do to him etc is enough to drive him up a wall.

He is a dominate partner, whether it’s in the bedroom or not, he likes to take the lead and guide you. Not that he is controlling, (he is not) but more that he cares enough to look out for you and be the one you can rely on.

He likes his back rubbed and scratched, massaged you name it! If you playfully smacked or pinched his ass he wouldn’t even be mad lol, he’d return that energy right back playfully.

Enjoys all things butts. Doggy, anal, (If you’re feeling confident, you could probably get away with convincing him to try some stuff on him)

Rindou loves things that captivate his eyes, he loves beautiful and shiny things. Wearing jewelry, even body jewelry! And lingerie make his heart swell. He loves when you accentuate your body that he adores so much.

Rindou doesn’t strike me as a man to TRULY have a type. He loves everyone of all shapes, sizes and colours. So long as you both can click mentally and emotionally, a romance so lovingly sickening will grow.

Although, he would definitely try to style you to match him. He’s most definitely a streetwear enjoyer so be aware to add some pieces into your wardrobe.

LOOOOVES doing it infront of a mirror. Remember when I said he love’s beautiful things? He wants to watch you from every angle. Doing it, in the mirror, would probably film it too.

Even though he is dominant, he does enjoy for you to take the reigns every once and a while (which is why I mentioned that MAYBE you could convince him to try butt stuff)

He loves someone who can be strong, and hold them selves together. Someone with a daring personality, who doesn’t conform to the norms of society.

And even when you’re not strong, he will help put you back together and love every single part of you wholeheartedly.

Very emotionally involved with you, though the sex is great, Rindou doesn’t just date to date, or fuck to fuck. He does everything with INTENTION even if he could be hard to read at times.

Rindou has come off as head fast and cruel, while also a big troll next to his brother (which I will definitely do an updated head canon for!) but that doesn’t mean he isn’t emotionally invested in what he does.

I truly truly truly believe that Rindou is a big softie. He just needs someone who is able to look past the ego and walls he tends to build up.

I also feel that, in order for a romance to brew there has to be some sort of friendship already built between the both of you. (Friends to lovers arc when)

He also really appreciates affection, especially compliments on the way he looks etc.

He’s the type to go out of his way to do things for you. Whether you’re sick and need him,

OH

I know y’all have been waiting for this so..

THE QUESTION

THAT HAS PROBABLY BEEN ASKED OR THOUGHT OF WAYYY TOO MANY TIMES TO COUNT

how big is that duck??

Duck

Duck

Dick*

:’)

I couldn’t keep it serious no matter how hard I try.

Rindou has one of the best dicks in Tr by far, not that he’s got the #1 spot, but he’s definitely in the top 10.

It’s beautiful, like him. Very good length + girth. Truly knows how to satisfy you even if he’s a virgin. Most of his skills come from actually getting to know you and what you love, this being his need and craving for balance and equality in your relationship.

He’s uncut, I’m sorry but tbh uncut dicks reign supreme.

I wanna say he’s around 6.5-7 inches, definitely still see a print when he’s not hard.

Very clean too, he really likes to take care of himself.

There’s probably still so much more I haven’t written, but Rindou is 10/10 the best boyfriend, husband, you name it. He’s so full of love, and I think that with the stigma of him having roppongi at his feet, it makes him look a lot scarier and more intimidating than he truly is.

He’s just a big nerdy baby, who deep down just loves to drink, have a good time, listen to music and dj, probably plays video games too, work out etc. He’s definitely a hopeless romantic too, he’s waiting for the right one, the right one just so happens to be you. <3

#tokyo revengers #anime #tokyo revengers x reader #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers smut #rindou haitani smut #anime smut #tokyo revengers edit #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyorev x you #tokyo revengers one shot #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers art #tokyo rev #Rindou #rindou x you #rindou smut

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for removing “minor” from my bio?

there’s been a lot of posts about this, wondering about my situation. so i turned 16 fairly recently. this does make me still a minor, but the age of consent in my country is 16, so i don’t feel like i’m being sneaky/misbehaving/a freak (lol) when i’m lurking in nsfw stuff anymore.

i still don’t interact with it (i’m lurking, no liking, reblogging etc) so there’s no connection at all to my blog. i probably wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that anyway, since most ones (justifiably) require an age in your bio which i just have not put. i understand why blogs require this, but i don’t think i’m putting anyone in danger because

a) not interacting, so again there’s no link to my blog

b) according to the posts this is relatively common? there would be cases about it all the time otherwise

anyway, a lot of blogs that had “minors dni” in their bio followed me when i still had minor in my bio (technically it was actually in my pinned, but again not hard to find). i don’t think they were being malicious, just the nature of the circles i’m in on tumblr means there’ll be a lot of kinky people (think d&d) and they just didn’t check.

i don’t think it’s my responsibility to block them, they’re breaking their own DNI, not me, and not everyone goes through their new followers blogs.

however now with the minor part gone, they won’t know if i break their dni or not.

i’m not planning to and haven’t interacted with any primarily nsfw blogs anyway (some of my friends do “hornypost” and i just ignore it) because to be completely honest doing anything nsfw on my main is kinda a turn off lol.

lurking feels safer and more comfortable so i think i’ll stick with that.

but yeah, i’m worried people won’t be able to uphold their boundaries when interacting with me directly anymore, but i also feel like i’m maybe not obligated to disclose that? i get id be in the wrong if i was Lying about my age to get into nsfw spaces, but i’m not doing that.

i don’t feel comfortable disclosing my age on my blog anyway, minor was a blanket term i was comfortable with to get nsfw blogs to stay away but i feel like i’m in a weird in between space atm (i know. i know im still a minor. but i’m in an adjusting period and i’m trying to get comfortable with the idea of being an adult in two years.)

a lot of this info is probably irrelevant, but maybe i am an asshole for other reasons, so. mod if this gets deleted for being too long/weird/rambley i understand 👍

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[slippinninque]

✨🦋You (Learned To) Like Pretty Things, Too🦋✨

a/n: thank you for all the love and encouragement that you all give! I'm grateful for every pair of eyes that land on my scribbling! I love me some soft!Fontaine and I hope to do more of these! tell me what you think!

warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+, cursing, long-fic, sensual/erotic moments, clothing kink, weed/smoking,

Fontaine pulled up outside of your work, leaning up against his car and looking like an absolute dream after such a tedious week. You met him with a sweet kiss, smiling against his lips when he hummed.

"Now why you tryin' to get me in trouble with Ms. Glenda?" Fontaine pinched your chin when you pulled away. He took your hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

Your face felt hot. You sorta forgot that you were still in the middle of your work's parking lot, but who would really care anyway?

The entire week you worked your ass off and cleaned up the messes of other overworked employees. You deserved a public smooch at least.

You took a peek over your shoulder.

Sure enough, there was Ms. Glenda slow-moseying to her car as she looked over her shoulder at the both of you.

That old woman was the gossip. Anything that she hears, everyone will have heard by the next business day.

" 'Night, ma'am!" you called, giving a wave and not waiting to see Ms. Glenda's response. Fontaine snickered at your wide-eyed expression of embarrassment, opening the passenger door for your escape.

"Good night, ma'am." Fontaine called as he rounded to the driver's side. You couldn't hear what Ms. Glenda said, but it made him shake his head with a little grin.

'Messy ol' granny...'

Once inside the Pontiac, you felt the greys of the day melt onto the road.

Fontaine's fingers tapped a rhythm on your thigh and he cruised right onto the highway.

At your questioning look, he just shrugged a bit, "Missed you, wanna ride around for a bit witchu."

You smiled and snuggled into the passenger seat, "Well, that's fine then! "

He patted your thigh and asked you to put on some music. While slipping through stations, you told him about your day. The emails you send and the calls you had to suffer. Off went your wedges and you took the tie from you hair, scratching your fingers into your thick roots.

Eventually your conversation lulled with the both of you enjoying the ride. Fontaine's ass would mess around and drive out of state if you didn't have to clock in the next morning.

The thought left you feeling dreamy. You and Fontaine trade in your cars for a little RV and you both roam the states. You yearned to see Fontaine beneath the the open sky, you wanted to kiss him and taste salt water on his lips. There was something about him that gave you the impression that he'd love camping.

'Soon,' you promised yourself, feeling around for a moment before Fontaine's hand found yours.

"Fontaine!"

-----

"Why you sayin' my name like that? I ain't even touchin'you like I wanna..."

Fontaine's tone was teasing and his golds flashed with a smile that ignited the butterflies in your stomach.

Your mouth dropped open when Fontaine made one final right. Then you were parked in a tucked away space, facing familiar frosted windows.

A bougie boutique that you were brave enough to peruse only online. They had the best quality stuff when it comes to luxury and it wasn't that far away from where you worked. How Fontaine found out, you'd never know.

"How'd you know about this place, 'Taine?"

"What, shit's exclusive or something?"

"No. At least...um, can they do that?"

"It ain't--I checked for memberships an' all that shit."

Of course Fontaine checked, because he's Fontaine. If the boutique did have a membership, not only would you be enrolled but he'd probably be extra about any available perks as well.

You couldn't explain the sudden feeling of shyness that came over you.

As if could see them fluttering into your chest, Fontaine reached out and tipped your chin towards him.

"Now, lemme say that you be wearin' them slacks lately, sexy as hell."

"You think my slacks are sexy?"

"Sexy as hell," Fontaine patiently assured, "I wanna see somethin' else though. You've been working hard and what you be sayin' to me? You deserve nice things."

His imitation of you made you grin but you couldn't stop the sass.

"Hm, a lot of people say that y'know."

Fontaine hummed and brought his face closer, now squishing your cheeks to kiss your pursed lips. He moved back just enough to ask,

"Remember our deal?"

"Ye', I r'member ouhr deah."

"Good. Imma give you a stack an' your going spend it on what you want. You gonna bring me change?"

"...No..."

That got you another kiss before he released you to smile-pout to yourself.

"That's what I wanna hear. Now let's get go fo' I take your pretty lil' self to the back seat."

"Yes, Big Daddy 'Taine."

.....

You opened the front door when you heard Fontaine pull up, staying behind the wood for a few final moments as he swept in like a rain cloud.

"So, you gonna tell me why you've been duckin' me all day--

His grumbling snapped off into a grunt at the sight of you. Grinning while you locked up, you couldn't help but to think 'success!' as his silence stretched on.

Fontaine could only stare, expression both stunned and delighted. Eyes running from your hair to your heels, taking a half step back to take in more of you.

He ran his hand down his face and the motion made your mutinous brain blurt a thought about him not being into it. Was it too much? Too dramatic?

"Jesus Christ of Nazareth."

Covering your face as you lost battle with your composure, you went a little pass him to strike the pose you've been practicing for hours.

"Just call me 'pretty', that'll do just fine."

He whistled lowly, swiftly getting back in your space. He pulled you into his arms, twisting you both and looking down at your swishing hem. You couldn't help but to ask if he liked it.

"Don't ask me questions like that when your lil' ass was holding out. How the hell did you hide this from me anyway?"

"If you must know, a lady can get a lot of mischief done in 20 minutes when left on her own," You batted your eyes at him coyly, "That move you had to shoot while we were at the boutique gave me more than enough time."

For all appearances, you appeared to be a professional burlesque dancer. Your hair bounced as a result of a bomb perm rod set and you wore his favorite perfume.

The panty set you wore were only gleaming, clear quartz beads strung daintily together, acting more like decorations. The matching bra gave you the perfect push n' plump. That wasn't all, though.

You found a radiant corset, the butterscotch color adoring your brown skin when you had it on. Handsewn with champagne and clear crystals, some close into the fabric while others trickled down on silk strings. It bracketed your cinched form prettily and it reminded you of twinkling stars.

Honestly, the corset was for Fontaine and the robe was for you. The color was the same of the corset and the completed look cast you into a glow. Soft, extremely sheer material that was lined with plush faux fur at the sleeves and hem. Whenever you walked, it felt as if you were being followed by clouds.

You decided to wear it beneath the corset to an attendant's suggestion. It sealed the deal and even you couldn't help but flaunt to yourself in the mirror as you finished getting ready

He groaned appreciatively as he ran a few knuckles along the curves of the corset, going down onto a knee to peer closer at the beading and crystals. He lifted he hem of your robe, making an appreciative noise at the of the texture. The sight was enough to take your breath away.

"I have go back and tip those ladies again." you made a note to yourself.

"This is some good shit, pretty girl." he rubbed at your cinched waist and chewed his lip at the sight asking,

"Ain't think you'd do me like this. You good, though? Are you comfortable--these shits can get tight."

Already expecting the question, you nodded as sincerely as you could, "Those women there are the experts. Took really good care of me. One of them said this is something like training wheels to what she normally wears--it's more comfortable than I thought."

"Good. This a bad mu'fucka, goddamn." Fontaine stared up at you with hungry eyes, "Matter of fact, c'mere sweet thing..."

He stood and herded you to the couch and sat you down, then sitting flush at your side to press a kiss to your lips. Every other kiss would come with a grunt or a mutter to himself about how pleased he was that you were all for him.

The last of your anxiety slipped away. Fontaine's hands-on rumination lulled you into that buzzy space where you wanted nothing but pull him on top of you.

Then he had to be disruptive, suddenly standing as if he got popped with hot-comb.

""Hold on, lemme wash my hands--better yet, lemme go shower real quick."

You turned away from him, dramatically rearranging your furred hem, "Oh, so you're just going to leave me here like this?"

Honestly, you were expecting some bodice ripping. Maybe him bending you over and knocking a few beads off of you. You pouted up at him, hard.

Fontaine's leaned down enough to press a kiss to your nose, pulling back enough so you can see his eyes drink in your form up close.

"I ain't touching my sweetie with dirty hands and when I come back, I'm takin' my time." he pinned you with a fervent look when your eyes finally met.

"So, have all that you want done by the time I'm back on this couch. Understood?"

Your answer was fluttering your robe around yourself, curling a leg up onto the couch and draping your arms along the back of it.

Fontaine's grin was smooth as he clasping his hands before him, you saw him considering to stay for a moment before he turned away. A moment later, there was the sound of something clattering into the tub and the shower turning on.

You laughed up at the ceiling and couldn't help kicking out your legs giddily. All your jitters gone now and replaced with anticipation, you got to your feet to get one more thing.

......

It felt like ages before Fontaine returned, but when he did you sat up straight.

You smiled at the way he stopped to take you in again, unfairly handsome in his black tank and grey sweats.

Feeling foxy, you crooked your finger at him to come closer and his answering laugh held promise at it's center. When he was close enough, you lifted a leg to show him your pointed heel.

Fontaine's gaze kept yours while he took hold of your ankle. He took another half step closer, the heel of your pointed-toe pump pressing into his sternum.

"You found 'em " he breathed, running his fingers along where the soft, crème suede meet your skin. He felt the point of the shoe, down the arch, and along the heel before placing it back onto his chest.

"Mhm! The pointy-shits! I had to make my own pompom, but I think it's cute. What do you think?"

Fontaine didn't say anything at first. He pulled your leg across his lap when he sat down next to you. Fontaine ran his free hand down from your ankle to where jewel met softness, making your breath stutter.

"I ain't doin' much thinking. Just wanna to feel you."

You shivered in anticipation. You kept your leg straight as it was lifted to meet Fontaine's face. One of his hands was busy kneading your thigh as he closely inspected the mesh before rubbing his cheek against it.

"Fontaine..." You couldn't help the girlish giggle. He gave a roguish grin before hiking your leg higher, making you squeak. The robe spilled around your semi-split and Fontaine gave a lewd whistle as he stared between your legs.

"Do you like the color? I know how you feel about purple and all, but gold has been growing on me lately."

"Gold is all you ever are, baby."

"Oh my--stop it, you!" You shook him off and primly scooted to lounge on the opposite end of the couch.

Fontaine was set to prowl after you when you held up a finger to him. You pulled out a blunt and lighter from your cleavage and presented them to him, wriggling your brows.

Fontaine's head reeled back before he chuckled. He came close enough to take it, and you plucked another one out as you stretched your legs back over his lap.

He shook his head and flicked the lighter, both of you sharing a flame. You leaned back into the arm of the couch and sent your smoke into the air.

You both sat there, smoking and enjoying the sight of each other. Despite you being the one wearing all the fluff and fancy, Fontaine had those arms out and the scent of his soap wafted enticingly every time he ashed his blunt.

His expression was soft, those jewel-dark eyes roaming all over you when he finally spoke,

"Thank you...for doin' this."

"Thank you? Why would you thank me?"

"I know I can be a bit...assertive at times. I ain't want you to think I wanna control you, y'know wha' I'm sayin?"

You only nodded your head, looking at where the smoke curled away from the tip of his blunt.

"I like being seen by you. You showed me things I didn't--I convinced myself not to want and now...I want them. I only want them from you."

The words drifted in silence as Fontaine's eyes finally still on yours, prompting you to continue.

"I wanna know you want, 'Taine. How can I give it to you?"

"Lookin' like what you are. Valuable. Precious. My perfect lil' Venus. Anythin' I could want--you already gave. Just tryin' to catch up."

"You already did, pretty." Fontaine ran a finger from your knee to the tip of your heel, reverently.

Your eyes misted as you as you lost your words. Speechless, you only wanted one thing in the moment.

Fontaine saw the change in you, putting out his blunt the same time as you in time to welcome you back into his embrace. You pushed a little more until you stretched over him in a sprawl.

Words couldn't express how you felt, the feeling bouncing in your heart. Love didn't seem like it was enough. All you could do was kiss him and hoped that he understood.

He enveloped you at once with restless hands. You chimed beneath his touch as he felt every crystal and bead, leaving them to swing against each other as he moved on.

Fontaine kissed you slowly, savoring every sound you made. Teasing you for more, pulling away enough to make you lean after him. You wanted to feel more of him, running your hands beneath his tank to the warm skin beneath.

When you felt his hands go to the back of your corset, you wriggled in protest until Fontaine pulled back with a pout that had you laughing.

"Don't make that face, I almost forgot--I got something for you, too"

Fontaine released you pretty easily at that, but you didn't have to go far. You reached beneath the couch to pull out a small box. Still sitting on his lap, you flicked off the lid to show him what was inside.

Brow raised, Fontaine reached out to remove the polaroid camera from it's casing. You bit your lip, feeling where he was hard beneath you.

"So, I was thinking, we could start a little...album together." You whispered, resuming your sprawl across his chest after tossing the box aside, "Of all the things I wear for you. Maybe this is more of a gift for the both of us but wouldn't it be fun?"

After all, you hadn't even touched the other things you've brought from the boutique. All of your focus was on pulling a fast one on Fontaine. He shifted, briefly pressing against you as he sat up further against the arm of the couch.

Much to your delight, you can tell Fontaine was flustered. He was fiddling with the camera, his smile surprisingly meek as he finally spoke,

"Can I take one for my wallet?"

"Anything for you, Big Daddy 'Taine."

Fontaine's smile appeared in full force and it felt so good to see that you sighed, melting against him and meeting in the middle for a other kiss.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

end notes: phew, this took a long while and i thank you if you read to the end lmao. i'm still learning how to write and post on this site and i'm building up more courage to experiment but thank you so much to those who check back in!

Let me know if I y'all wanna know 'bout them pictures he took 👀👀

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @mysterychick93 @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @prettypink-princesss @longpause-awkwardsmile @thadelightfulone @motheyesofnight @nickidub718 @eggnox @kindofaintrovert @sageispunk @blowmymbackout @daariesqueen@sevikasblackgf@justabovewater20@mybonafidefeelings @mcondance

#fontaine x black!reader #fontaine fic #they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone fic #Fontaine x FemReader #fontaine x reader #fontaine x black reader #fontaine #john boyega

[arvandus]

barbatos headcanons sfw or nsfw? totally fine if not <3 i love anything you write for barbatos <3

Ohhhh man, so many headcanons considering how much space he takes up in my brain. Most of it centers around relationships and, by proxy, NSFW stuff. It ties into what I recall of canon material, but take it with a grain of salt since I haven't finished the OG game yet (I'm on lesson 42 right now). I'm just going to put SOME of them since I have so many. Also, some of these will probably sound more like character analysis than headcanons.

WARNING: MINORS AND AGELSS BLOGS DNI; THIS POST CONTAINS 18+ CONTENT. DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT FOLLOW ME!

My Humble Barbatos Thoughts:

General stuff (SFW):

He smells like warm bread and spices due to all the baking/cooking he does and the tea he grows and brews.

When Asmo painted his and Diavolo's nails to match the brothers (per Diavolo's request), Barbatos let Diavolo choose his nail color for him.

His biggest worry is the mistakes of his past coming back to haunt him by inadvertently impacting Diavolo's reputation by association. If Barbatos's past sins became public knowledge, he would worry about how the Devildom might view him and how that would impact Diavolo.

Because of how incredibly old he is, and the way he seemed to come into Sol's life when he was a teenager (if I recall correctly?), and came into Diavolo's life when he was also young, I see his relationships with them as almost parental/guardian (at least initially).

Which means he probably doesn't really have any truly balanced/equal relationships with those around him, which can cause him to be somewhat isolated. He's there for others, but he's not very willing to let others reciprocate. He believes he needs to handle all of his troubles/worries on his own.

I can see his dynamic with Diavolo evolving into a more equal/balanced friendship over time, the parental/guardian dynamic falling away as he let's go of his protective role. I think this has already happened with Sol, since they seem more friends/equals than father/son (e.g., he allows Sol to have power over him not just in pact, but also with his grimoire); Diavolo is harder because Barbatos still sees the young prince as his responsibility (plus Dia is always trying to sneak out like a teenager 😂).

Barbatos has a LOT of talents and interests; he may be very proper and well-mannered, but he's been around for a LONG time. Canon things we've learned about him so far: he likes heavy metal music, he likes classical music, he is great at ice skating, fangol, and chess; he kills it at cross-dressing and dancing... he's a very diverse individual which tells me he did and tried probably literally everything when he was younger.

He's 10/10 middle-aged adult energy now. He's done everything, experimented with all the things, and now he just wants stability. He's still got some spunk to him and will engage in fun activities (especially for the sake of others), but if he had his way, I think he'd want to relax with his tea, his gardens, and his walks under the stars.

Relationship/Intimacy (including NSFW):

He had plenty of lovers earlier on in his life, but he didn't exactly have a lot of emotional intimacy. He's always been the oldest demon, and when he was younger, that simple fact made him arrogant and he saw himself as always being above others. It drove an invisible wedge between himself and those around him.

He's a greed demon, so I imagine that in the beginning he was more emotionally charged and selfishly motivated.

He has literally tried every kink under the sun moon. Young Barbatos was kinkier, hornier, meaner (due to his arrogance), and likely was not a very healthy individual to engage in relations with. Probably had lots of red flags. Was very free-spirited (our boy was hopping timelines will-nilly);

Young Barb had fuckboi energy, but in a quiet, intelligent sort of way (if that makes sense). He was hard to resist, yet very much untouchable.

As time passed, he mellowed out but also became more reserved. This made emotional intimacy even harder, and sexual escapades grew boring after a while.

Young Barbatos certainly got around, but he only truly fell in love once. But he had to leave that person behind when he made the decision to go back and fix his mistakes. He still thinks about them to this day.

In the past, when he saw the consequences of his recklessness and how it had impacted those he cared about (Dia, Sol) he had a change of heart and devoted himself to fixing his mistakes and to be in service of others before himself.

It may seem endearing and like excellent character growth; which it is, to a point. But it's also reactionary to the harm he caused. Barbatos sees his passions and desires as something toxic, something negative. As such, he sees them as being something that needs to be bottled up and controlled at all times.

Which makes it so much harder to fall in love, and when he does fall in love, it will scare him, because he feels that pull of selfishness, of wanting purely for the sake of wanting it. He has yet to figure out how to find balance within himself (i.e., trust himself), to allow himself to want without letting it consume him, and to give without self-deprivation.

Monogamous or poly? I could see it going either way, although I see him leaning more towards monogamous. It's the greed and also how he isolates himself; letting in one person would be hard, letting in more than one, especially to the same extent, would be nearly impossible. He's a VERY private person.

But poly can also work as long as its established that the relationship is exclusive between him and his partners (no open relationships/flings with outsiders). Poly might also be nice for him in that he can take comfort in knowing that his partners are there for each other when his work keeps him away from them (i.e., he'd hate for his monogamous partner to be alone all the time).

Either way, mono or poly, Barbatos does not like to share. It's the greed in him. They're his, and no one else's.

Barbatos would be very VERY resistant to entering a relationship in the present time mainly because he's dedicated himself to Diavolo. He knows his partner would not be able to be his top priority no matter how much he loves them, and not many people would be okay with that.

Barbatos used to be very sexually promiscuous in his younger years, but now he's completely closed off simply because has a reputation to protect for Diavolo. He doesn't want any jilted lovers/ex-lovers to try to cause trouble for the Prince of the Devildom simply to get back at Barbatos. Also, the man has no time for shenanigans.

If someone does manage to worm their way into his heart, it would be very slowly, over many years without him noticing until he suddenly realizes one day that he'd be lost without them. It'd be jarring for him, to say the least.

Barbatos is canonically VERY romantic. He's a giver, and his love language is acts of service. That includes not only errands/duties/chores/meals/dates, but also physical acts of service (massages, orgasms, etc.).

Loves LOVES to give oral. He loves making his lover(s) putty in his hands (think service dom).

Lots of kissing. So so much kissing. He's gonna worship every inch with his mouth and tongue.

Definitely does have a kinky side, but it only comes out to play with someone he really REALLY trusts.

He'd be down for nearly everything. Bondage, anal, edging, etc. He can even be a mean dom if you ask him really nicely (he needs to believe you REALLY want it before he lets that old side of himself come out to play); however, the only things I can see him having a hard no on would be anything in a public space where there's a chance of being seen/caught (remember he's worried about reputation) and hard degradation via name-calling (sorry, I just can't picture it - he'd respect his partner too much regardless of whatever nasty kinky stuff they do together).

Will most definitely use his tail on himself and his partner(s).

If his lover is human, he'd be constantly keeping himself (and his strength) in check out of fear of hurting them.

He'd be big on consent. He's a master at reading body language; the slightest hint of distress and he's stopping everything immediately. He's not one to lose himself in the moment.

However, this doesn't mean he doesn't have the capacity to be passionate; it's just that his passion can be a bit strong, so he's always worried about overwhelming his partner. But if his partner can handle it, then it'd open up an entirely different side of him.

Despite his capacity for kinky shenanigans, Barbatos's favorite type of intimacy with his partner will be more vanilla and filled with lots of love and affection. So think lazy oral on the bed or couch in the privacy of his room, missionary so he can see your face and feel your legs wrap around him, and you in his lap so he can let you have control and wrap his arms tight around you.

Barbatos is the KING OF AFTERCARE. Baths, tea, cakes, warm blankets, firelight, soft touches, gentle massages, kisses to your cheeks, your temples... and very heartfelt verbal confessions of his love for you.

Will snuggle you tightly after all is said and done.

Loves watching you sleep while he holds you in his arms.

He'd never say it out loud because he doesn't want to burden you, but getting up early each morning and leaving your warmth is the most painful, torturous thing for him.

#arvandus answers #oh god #oh jesus #this got so big I'm so sorry #a;sldfkajd;s #you opened up a can of worms anon #and ALL OF THE HYPERFIXATION SPILLED OUT #barbatos obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #barbatos x mc #barbatos x you #barbatos x reader #barbatos x y/n #barbatos headcanons #obey me headcanons

[stuckonthefiction]

sweet dreams are made of this

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader AO3 Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors DNI Word Count: 2571 Summary: Eddie comes home late and finds you all alone in bed. Warnings: Smut, unprotected PIV, creampie, oral sex (F!receiving), praise kink, light choking, pre-established relationship, pre-established consensual somnophilia (always talk to your partners beforhand!) Author’s Note: okay i haven't written anything in a good hot minute so i'm a bit rusty. dedicated to my fellow whorefire besties (who know who you are)

Tonight had been a long one. It was a typical Saturday for the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin which involved playing with the band until the bar closed. The crowd per usual wasn’t too heavy. Eddie didn’t mind when you didn’t come see the shows all the time. In fact, he insisted on it.

“My hearing is already going to be shot to shit with this stuff. I’d rather protect your lovely ears, babe”

But he would be lying if he didn’t miss seeing your face in the small, dingy bar crowd. So when he pulled his van into the small space next to the trailer, he couldn’t wait to crawl into bed with you. It was his favorite thing to do ever since you officially moved in a few months ago. Now Eddie had graduated, Wayne had decided to transfer to a different plant on the other side of Indianapolis, stating that he’d “had enough of Hawkins.” The trailer now was just the two of you.

Eddie quietly set his keys on the hook by the door, smiling to himself when his eyes trailed to the set of keys that belonged to you hanging next to his. He knew you would most likely be asleep by now so he made sure to keep his noises in the living room area to a minimum as he took his shoes and jacket off. Tiptoeing his way down the hallway into your shared bedroom, what Eddie found made him grin like a mad man.

There you were, laying in bed with the blankets kicked away, in only a t-shirt and only in a t-shirt. He stood there in the doorway for a moment, just taking in the scene before him. The small lamp on the dresser was the only thing that was giving the room any sort of light and it was just enough for Eddie to notice how every so often your thighs would squeeze together. Brows furrowed in sleep and a soft pout on your lips, you shifted from laying on your side to laying on your back, leaving your legs wide open. 

Ever so slowly, he undoes his belt and slips his jeans right off. He makes his way over to the bed, pulling his sweaty shirt off in the process. You shift a little bit when Eddie puts a knee at the edge of the bed. He pauses but you still slumber.

Lightly, he leans down and kisses you just above the knee. His deep eyes peer up to gauge your reaction. His lips begin a small trail of kisses along your thighs. He hears a small hum come from your own lips but nothing alerts him to you having woken up. Eddie keeps his eyes on your face as he starts to move his mouth closer and closer to your center. His hands come up your legs to lift them slightly up to rest on his shoulders.

He gives you an experimental lick and almost moans when he realizes just how wet you are. You must have had some fun while he was out. Or at least tried to. He gives you another lick, causing your hips to jerk up a little into his mouth. And as much as he loves how peacefully serene and unaware you are of what he’s doing, Eddie loves it even more when you areaware. He loves hearing you, loves it when you grip your hands tightly into his curls.

He knows you’re somewhat of a light sleeper depending on the situation. And so he latches his plush clips onto your clit as he slowly begins to slip his middle finger into you. Your body reacts before your brain does, thighs squeezing just as you contract around the finger that’s moving at a snail’s pace in and out. A good swirl of his tongue to your clit is what causes you to release a low moan, blinking your eyes open.

“E-eddie?” You whimper out the question, “That you?”

“Mhmm.” He moans into you. The vibrations and his movements are all so much. Your hands scramble to find purchase in his hair. Your hips arch forward into his welcoming mouth and it’s almost as if your hands are pushing him into you even further. He takes this moment to slip a second finger into your wet center, moving both digits out at a faster speed.

“Oh my god, Eddie.” You can feel his smile. That smug bastard. He nudges his nose against your clit in the way he knows you like and pulls back a little bit. His deep, dark eyes glinting in the lowly lit room as they move up your body locking onto your own lids that are still heavy from sleep. The way he looks at you in these moments, sometimes they’re enough to make you combust right then and there.

“Miss me, sweetheart?” He gives your inner thigh a small nip here and there before moving to let his tongue move in small circles on your clit once again.

“A-always, baby.” Your eyes squeeze shut as your back arches up when his fingers hit a particular spot in you. “H-hate being here without y-you.”

Eddie can tell you’re getting close from the way you’re squeezing tighter around his fingers and the way you’re stuttering when you speak. You must have been edging yourself the entire night just waiting for him to get home. And though it sounds weird on paper, it touches him to know just how much you missed him even if he was gone for just a moment. The idea of someone missing him that much? He never thought he’d have it. He never thought he’d have someone like you.

“I-I’m,” You start. You feel like you can’t form words. Eddie knows your body like the back of his hand. He just knows exactly what you want, exactly what you need.

There’s so much happening. There’s the pace and the curl of his fingers inside you. The softness of his lips, the circles from his tongue, both over your clit. He’s using his other hand to keep your thighs open, to keep you from closing them tightly around his head which you so desperately want to do.

Your eyes squeeze shut. Your jaw drops open in a silent scream. Your back arches just a bit and your hips are lifted. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire. And at the same time, you feel like you’ve just jumped into a freezing cold lake because if you weren’t fully awake before, you most certainly are now. The only thing you can think of, the only thing that’s able to cross your mind is Eddie.

And you don’t realize how much time has passed since you hit your highest peak. Your eyes open again slowly and look down at the end of the bed. Eddie is still between your legs. He’s pulled back so his head is resting on one of your thighs, softly looking up at you. His messy hair tickles your skin, making you shiver in your post orgasm state.

“Hi.” He says, kissing your thigh before moving so he's crawling up your body. He places his arms on either side of your head.

“Hi.” You managed to breathe out. Though your body is limp, legs feeling like jelly, your hands move to hold his waist. “How was the show?”

“Eh,” Eddie leans down to kiss your lips, “the same as usual. What were you doing while I was gone?”

“I-” You start as he’s moving his lips against your neck. Nipping at the spot just below your ear that drives you crazy. “I-I missed you.”

“Mm.” He hums. “I could tell judging by how wet you were when I only just got home.”

Your hands move up his body and pull at the back of his neck so he brings his lips back to yours again. This time the kiss is heavier. Eddie slides his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for permission which you gladly give as you moan into his mouth. You feel one of his hands move to cup your cheek in a sincere way that is just Eddie in the best way possible. Your hands are threading through his hair again, tugging lightly in a way that communicates you want more. More of him.

He’s grinding his hips down against your thigh and you can feel how hard he is through his boxers. His lips have moved to your neck again, finding the spot just below your ear that drives you crazy.

“Eds,” You manage to get out. Your body is still so sensitive and the way he’s moving against you right now, the way his cock is pressing against your clit through the thin fabric that separates the two of you, is almost enough to get you to your second orgasm if he just keeps going. But you need him. You need him now.

“Please.”

Eddie can hear the neediness in your voice when you say that. So he pulls back from you much to your dismay but it’s so he can quickly shuffle off the last bit of his clothing. You proceed to slip the t-shirt you were still wearing off. You swear you hear your boyfriend groan as soon as he catches sight of your tits. He leans over to the nightstand next to the bed and quickly grabs a condom from the pack that had been scattered across the piece of furniture.

He manages to get it on himself, hissing slightly as he feels his hand slide along his length. Your arms are out in front of you trying to grab at him so he’s close to you again. Back in position above you, your legs wrapped around his waist, Eddie holds his base as he lightly taps your clit with the tip of his cock. You whine impatiently at him. He shoots a grin down at your pouting face before he lines himself up with your entrance.

The both of you let out moans as Eddie enters you slowly. The heels of your feet are pressing into his backside, pushing him in deeper as he goes. When he bottoms out, Eddie pauses for a moment. His head is pointed down so he can look at where the two of you are connected. His wild hair hangs like curtains around his face.

“Baby,” You whine again, your body aching for him to move. “Fuck me.”

“Gimme a second. Because I swear to god, sweetheart, you’re gripping me so tight that I could finish before I even get started.”

And after a few quick breaths, Eddie slowly moves to where only the tip of him stays in you before quickly slamming back in.

“Fuck.” He groans out, his head dropping down so it lays in the crook of your neck. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine. Or maybe it’s the force of his hips slamming against yours that’s making your body convulse as it is.

“You feel so fucking good, Eds.” You moan out, tilting your hips up to meet his thrusts. “So g-good.”

“Christ, sweetheart.” His lips are right next to your ear. “I swear this pussy was made for me. So glad you’re mine. So fucking glad.”

“Ah, always, Eddie.” You moan out just as he hits a particular deep spot inside you. “A-always been yours.”

One of his hands moves to grip your head and turn your face to his so he can pull you into a searing kiss. His pace is picking up now, chasing his own release. But Eddie pulls back again, just resting his forehead against your own. His hand moves from your head to slip between the two of you, finding its home right on your clit. It causes you to cry out in immense pleasure. The tight warmth in your stomach is increasing. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You know Eddie can sense it too because his fingers are moving faster against your clit.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” He pants, moving his other hand from keeping him balanced above you to your neck. He holds your gaze on his own. Somehow his deep eyes look even darker at this moment.  “I want to see you come undone for me. Show me what only I can do for you. Show me what’s mine.”

The movement of his hips, the slide of his length moving in and out of your core, the pressure on your clit, the way he’s holding your throat in such a way that isn’t restricting your breathing but in a way that says you’re mine, the intense eye contact he’s holding with you right now. All of it is too much and you’re teetering on the edge. He knows it too.

“Be a good girl. Cum for me.”

And that undoes you. You think you let out a scream but you’re not sure. You feel like you’ve gone deaf, like you can feel your heart pumping at a rapid speed. Your body goes limp. Your head wants to roll back but you can’t. Eddie’s grip and the fact that he’s so intent on making sure your eyes never leave his. Your chest is heaving. You can feel droplets of sweat sliding down between the valley of your chest.

“God. Eddie.” You murmur. Your voice sounds so unfamiliar. You feel like you’re out of your own body. “God, you fuck me so good.”

“Y-yeah?” His hips haven’t stopped moving. The vice grip you have on him is making it harder and harder for him to keep up his pace. It’s starting to get erratic as he chases his own release. “T-tell me more, baby, please. Please.”

“You’re so, so good, Eds. Fuck me so good. I love it so much.” The corner of your mouth curls up slightly into a smile, hearing how desperate he now sounds. “No one else can do this to me. Just you.”

That’s what pushes him off the edge. He groans so loud as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Eddie thrusts into a few more times as he cums. He practically collapses on top of you. But it’s okay. You’re used to it by now.

You both lay there, letting your heart rates slow back down to a normal pace. After a moment, Eddie pulls his softening cock out of you. You release a small whine when he does it, missing how full he made you feel. He removes the condom and tosses it in the small trash can you insisted on having next to the bed.  

Finally, he turns to where the two of you are laying side by side, facing each other. Your eyes are already closed again. He softly runs his hand down your arm, gently lulling you to slumber once again.

“Falling asleep on me already, babe?” Eddie mumbles softly. “I fuck you that good, huh?”

“Damn right.” You murmur back, moving to snuggle into his chest. His arms move to wrap around you. “Wore me the fuck out, Eds.”

He laughs a little as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. His eyes also start to feel heavy as sleep pulls him in as well.

“Love you.” is whispered quietly into his skin. So quiet he can barely hear your voice.

“Love you more.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things reader insert #my writing

[feelbokkie]

🔮How he would react to you being a witch🔮

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff, witch au, slight crack

pov: 2nd person

description: you're a witch and this is how each skz would react (gifs have nothing to do with the writing)

pairing: bf!skz x gn!witch!reader

warnings: witchcraft(?), let me know if I missed anything

word count: 1,410

©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

방 찬 (Bang Chan)

Will be behind it 100%

Will let you kick him out of his studio so you can cleanse the space

You taught him how to meditate so he does it whenever he has a massive block

If meditation doesn’t work, he’ll ask for your help

His desk is covered in crystals and spell jars that you made for him

Will play you a new song and ask if Apollo approves even if Apollo isn’t your deity

It got to the point where you made him a small alter of Apollo in the studio

You even taught him how to read the flame of a candle

Loves being around you, even if it’s in silence so he keeps some of your supplies in his studio

So you two can work together in relative silence

When he needs a break he’ll offer taking a nature walk

“You can get things like river water or collect some dirt.”

Basically dirty talk

Heard about baby witches trying to hex the moon and how dangerous it could be so he was worried for you

"Just make some more protection charms, yeah?"

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho)

Does not fully understand, but will help in anyway you can.

Will often text you when cooking to ask if you can make use of any of the stuff he’s using.

“Is rice water good for anything?”

If you’re considering getting a familiar, he would 1000% try to convince you to get a cat

“How can you be a witch and NOT have a cat?” “That’s not how it works!”

You know he wants you to get a cat because he misses his three.

He knows all of the spice substitutes for spell ingredients and will often buy them for you if he sees you’re running low

One time Hyunjin pissed him off so he asked you to make a voodoo doll as a joke

Or, at least you think it was a joke

Needless to say, you didn't make the doll

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin)

Would not get it, but will still be supportive

Thought you were joking the first time you mentioned it

Did not believe you until he went over to your place for the first time

Felt bad and worked on being more understanding

Will meditate with you, but not for long

He will get bored and leave so he doesn’t interrupt you

If he happens to see that you’re low on candles, he’ll just buy them unprompted

Will wear any protective charms you make him religiously

Asks you to cleanse the gym before he works out

Will also buy you flowers that he knows can be dried and used in spells later he keeps a list on his phone

"You know what would be funny?"

Most of the time it would be funny

But it would mostly be him trying to get you to hex big boss JYP

Tries to bring cursed objects into your house

You don't even know where he gets them from, he just shows up with them

"Witches love this stuff, right?" "Get that thing out of my house!"

He a little confused, but he got the spirit no pun intended

Down to use a ouija board with you

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin)

This man is dramatic af

He would be convinced that every minor inconvenience was someone putting a hex or a curse on him

He will immediately run to you and beg him to do a cleanse

“Y/N, the vibes are off. Can you come smudge the practice room?”

“Someone plucked a strand of my hair out today. Not sure what for, but we need to do some protective magic to get on top of that.”

100% will have you put a rune or a spell on his shoes before he dances.

He will also take advantage of you two using magic for self care.

You told him that Athena was the deity for art and now has a small statue of her in his studio

Will paint pictures of your deity (or deities) for you to put on your alter and to make up for accidentally eating an offering

Prays that his art doesn't accidentally offend them

Will also bring back stuff from tour to put on your alter

He is really trying not to piss off your deity (or deities)

“Sometimes I feel like you’re dating my deity.” “I just don’t want to end up with a curse.” "Keep it up and see what happens." "You're just teasing me, right?" "..." "Y/N?"

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung)

Would love it

He would pretend like it’s Kiki’s Delivery Service

He will definitely try to get you two dress up as the characters from Kiki’s Delivery Service at least once

Would come to you when he’s starting to feel anxious, asking for a calming draught

Most of the time, the calming draught is just tea, but he doesn’t need to know that

You would teach him a rune he can trace into his hand if he starts feel anxious and you aren’t there

You two meditate together weekly

He will also meditate when he’s on tour

Will ask you if there is any spell or potions to help him rap faster

“Yeah, practice.”

He will pout for 10 whole minutes

If he’s stuck in a bought of writer’s block, he will come to you to get that sorted out

"It's because my chakras are unaligned, huh?"

이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok)

Would be so supportive

Would let you decorate his desk with crystals

Loves when you cleanse the dorm or his room

Just loves the smell of incenses and will burn them when you aren’t there

Would also be more on top of your shit than you are

“I saw that today was a full moon so I put a cup of water outside for you!”

Would be so excited to celebrate witchy holidays

“Is there a deity that can make me game better? I’m getting slaughtered.”

If he bakes, he’ll be sure to set aside some for your alter as an offering

If he makes something new, he’ll go with you to your alter to see if your deity (or deities) approves

To be completely honest, he is more nervous about upsetting your deity (or deities) than he was meeting your parents

Likes hearing you talk about the deities in general

Will cry every time you talk about Hades and Persephone, especially when they have to be apart

“I would hate to be away from you for six months.”

Called you crying the first week of tour

“I understand how Persephone felt when she had to leave Hades.”

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min)

Does not get it and is kind of skeptical

He will question things to try to understand for your sake

Will also makes jokes

But the second he can tell that you’re getting upset, he’ll stop

Will do some research to better understand you and your beliefs

“I found a box of nails for you for Samhain.” “How do you know about that?” “The internet is free, Y/N.”

One time his throat was hurting the night before a big performance and you brewed him a potion. He was completely fine the next morning.

He watched you do it and thought it was just a tea.

So he did it himself before recording a song one day.

His voice was completely gone.

He doesn’t understand what happened, he did the exact same thing you did.

Okay, well maybe not the exact same thing

Will leave the spell brewing to you for now on

양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In)

Would be very confused to be completely honest.

“So… is the broom in your kitchen your car?”

If you’re going out to get supplies, he’ll ask to come with out of curiosity.

Will touch and pick up things he shouldn’t

You scold him and make him hold onto your arm or shirt with both hands for the remainder of the trip

He’ll find out you’re into divination and have so many questions

“Does that mean you can read my mind?”

“Can you look into your crystal ball and see if we win that award next week?”

“What are this week’s winning lotto numbers?”

Will watch you do tarot readings and ask a million questions

It’s like story time to him

Will not touch any of your things out of fear of messing up a spell

It happened once with a spell you were working on for days and with hard to find supplies

Never forgave himself

You forgave him immediately

Would watch you work on your magic in awe

—

Buy me a coffee?

#feelbokkie writes #stray kids #skz #chan #bangchan #bang chan #lee know #minho #lee minho #changbin #seo changbin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #han #jisung #han jisung #felix #yongbok #lee felix #lee yongbok #lee felix yongbok #seungmin #kim seungmin #i.n #jeongin #yang jeongin #x reader #skz headcanon #stray kids headcanon