#brief mention of teddy as well

[lovebugism]

Shy!reader who has never had a valentine and Steve who pulls out alllll the stops to make up for this—flowers, chocolate, jewelry, candles, a nice dinner, even stuff like a teddy bear and those cheesy kid valentines

happy love day <3 — steve helps his shy gf celebrate her very first valentine's day (shy!reader, established relationship, cw for brief mentions of anxiety, 1k)

Valentine’s Day afternoon is grey and gloomy, but your beaming makes up for it. You’re smiling wide and sparkling with it the second you see Steve waiting for you in the parking lot outside your work. He’d promised to pick you up, yes, but you’re always giddy at the sight of him.

“Hey, babe,” the boy greets with his own grin, crooked and perfectly pink. 

He looks all cool, leaning against the driver’s side of his car. Pristine sneakers crossed over one another, sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows, strands of cinnamon hair draping his forehead — how are you supposed to do anything but melt for him?

“Hi,” you respond in a tinier voice, walking closer to him now. You duck your chin to your chest and peer at him through your lashes, always so painfully shy.

“Did you have a good day?”

“It was alright,” you shrug and plant yourself in front of him. The deep scent of cologne staining his shirt combines with the earthy scent of impending rain. The concoction makes you dizzy. “Kept thinking about seeing you the whole time, though.”

Your confession makes the bridge of his chiseled nose scrunch. 

“Well, that makes two of us,” he quips before revealing the bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. A small thing wrapped in pale pink tissue paper — pastel lavenders and pale baby’s breath — as pretty and delicate as you are.

You light up instantly, eyes glittering as they flit from the bushel of flowers to Steve’s proud grin. “You got me flowers?” you wonder, quiet with disbelief. You take them with a soft, trembling hand.

Steve shrugs. “‘Course I did.”

You bury your nose in the perfumed florals and flash a sheepish look over them. “No boy’s ever gotten me flowers before…”

Steve knows this. He knows you’ve never had a valentine before him — that you’ve never been with anyone the way you’ve been with him. It’s why he’s always so soft and perfectly patient with you.

“‘Cause other boys are stupid,” he says, grinning when it makes you giggle. He takes another step closer to you and smooths his warm palms over your arms. His thumbs rub gently along the outsides of your elbow. “Do you like them?”

“I love them,” you insist, smiling so wide it hurts. “They’re gonna look so pretty in my room.”

“Want me to take you home then? So you can get ready for tonight?”

Your brows pinch at his mischievous tone. “What’s tonight?”

“Dinner. I wanna take you to that fancy, new Italian place in the city.”

“Oh.” Your panic is subtle but still written all over your face. You’re not good at going out — you’re worse at trying new things. Steve’s certainly made you braver, but you’re always a little timid at heart. 

Steve knows this and assures with a soft smile, “But we don’t have to if you don’t want. It was just a suggestion.”

“I want to,” you hear yourself say.

His brows raise, visibly shocked. “You do?”

There’s something about the way he looks at you, with a glimmer in his deep brown eyes, that makes you bold. You nod once, firm and foreignly confident. “Yeah.”

Steve tries not to be too obvious about his smiling, but he wears his love for you all over his face without trying. “Then let’s go.”

—————

Rain beats heavy against the window of the candle-lit restaurant, a wild and delicate cadence. The flickering flame paints Steve’s smile golden while his eyes glow a shining amber. He tries to woo you like you’re not wearing the pretty dress he bought you — like you’re not wearing his initial in a pendant dangling between your breasts.

“You’re the Obi-Wan for me,” he jokes before taking a hearty bite of his steak. He chews through the mouthful and gestures with his fork. “You know. Like only one—”

“I get it,” you assure with a sickly sweet smile.

He’s been doing this for a better part of an hour. The Valentine’s Day crowd rushed in, and your waiter got your order wrong, and the whole thing spun you into a tizzy. Steve’s been trying to distract you from your nerves ever since. And it’s worked. Mostly.

“Well, you’re not laughing!” he retorts, playful in his solemnity. “That one was good— you gotta give me some credit.”

“It was,” you assure with a quiet nod. You don’t say it like you mean it, but more like you’re trying to appease him.

“Are you saying you can come up with a better one?” he teases.

You think for a moment, doe eyes flitting across the droplets sliding down the window beside you. Your glossed lips purse all pretty to the side with the weight of your pondering. A smile tugs slow at your lips when you turn back to him. “Obi-Wan Ke-bone-me.”

A laugh sputters from Steve’s mouth. As pure and innocent as sunshine. He nods with a proud, lopsided smile. “You’re right. That was way better.”

“I Obi-Want you tonight,” you follow, giggling still.

“You are on fire tonight, you know that?”

You laugh again, louder this time. Steve beams at the pretty sound and waits until you’ve scooped a too-big bite of pasta in your mouth to compliment you. “You’re so pretty…” he murmurs in a low, honeyed tone. His eyes sparkle with amber, warm and visibly fond.

You stop mid-chew to scowl. You’re too cute to look threatening — especially when you’ve got spare sauce dotted on the corner of your mouth. “Stop…” you scold after you’ve swallowed down the mouthful.

Steve laughs, loud and boyish. “You are!”

“You’re being too nice…” you grouse with your nose scrunched.

“I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to be nice.”

“But not this nice,” you insist, smiling despite yourself. You twirl noodles around your fork to busy your fidgeting hand. Your sheepish gaze flits from the half-empty plate to the beautiful boy in front of you. “I think you’re starting to ruin everyone else for me, Stevie…”

His chest sparkles with a warmer feeling. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs. “That was kinda the plan here, babe.”

“Was it?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods and folds his arms over the white-clothed table. He grins wide and leans in close.  His cinnamon eyes sparkle with a mixture of adoration and mischief. “You fell right into my trap.”

You smile back at him, so happy that you did.

[ssailormoonn]

❛ DOLL ❜

Yandere!PM! Osamu Dazai X Fem!Reader

| YANDERE CONTENT |

WC; 1.5k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: yandere! x fem!reader, implied noncon into dubcon, stalking, kidnapping, discrete kidnapping, bruising, abuse, cuts, blood? manipulation, nsfw, smut, piv, cervix kissing, hickies, creampie?, no protection, mention of kids, mention of pregnancy, breeding, nickname: Bella, Belladonna + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 ::dazai kidnap's you and he makes you into his perfect little doll. he does horrible things to you, marking you up as his whether is hickies, cuts or bruises, during sex or not. maybe he even nulifies your ability away and renders you useless, manipulating you

m.list | bsd m.list

You weren't strong, you wouldn't say that you were strong but your sweet words and gentle personality were enough to catch the eyes of Dazai.

Your room has been meticulously crafted for you, you always sat in the centre of your, your and Dazai's shared bed, knees pulled to your chest as your entire body was littered with bruises.

Your life was once colorful, filled with joy; it became a memory you would never be able to catch up with again. Now, the silence that is only broken by the floorboards is replaced by Dazai's sweet or condescending whispers into your ear.

"You're too weak to be outside, Belladonna"

"That pretty face should be for my eyes only."

You clung to a plush pink teddy Dazai had won for you the one time he ever took you out to a traveling fair. You were useless, your body rendered into nothing but a shell of a human being haphazardly constructed by the orders of Dazai.

He'd never hit you physically, though there were more than enough times he would grip a section of your body too tight that it would leave a purple bruise behind. He held onto arms, wrists, shoulders, and legs and hips with a waist, every single part of your body.

Then he'd appease you that same evening, singing to you just how sorry he'd be even if you knew he wasn't. He would be amused by your state, although he wouldn't show it—you could just tell the way that he looked at you.

It is so loving to see the welling-up of those tears within your lash line and how your bottom lip would tremble, smirking at the sight of you pushing down the want to let out your hot tears. Still, the only reason Dazai loves seeing you cry is because he can soothe you.

He'd want to pull you into his arms and have you sob into his chest, your fingers and hands clenching at his suit. He would be so gentle with you, holding you tight to his chest, where an arm would wrap around your waist and another would go around your upper back so his hand could rub the back of your head.

He would smother your face with kisses then, reminding you that you couldn't leave, that you were weak and didn't belong anywhere else but with him, because the outside world had too many dangers for your weak body. 

He nullifies your ability; now you truly had no chance to escape because he even watched your diet. So that even if you had been able to use your ability once more, your body would collapse under its overwhelming force. 

"You're looking rather fragile today," he says, his voice playful as he stoops down to your level. His fingers delicately outline the bruise on your arm, one he formed when you begged to take a walk. "It's almost as if you need me to protect you from the outside world. You're so easy to hurt."

You flinch out of instinct from his touch, the fingers a stinging rose on your purpling skin. For a brief moment, Dazai's eyes soften, but the smile is cold and rational. "You know, if you were outside, unprotected and vulnerable, you would not live out a day. Just not cut out for what the world throws at you."

His words are twisted to be of a reassuring nature, meant to keep you dependent on him. The freedom you once held so dear is now a memory, torn from you deliberately bit by bit. Dazai has made sure that you can neither fight back nor flee.

"You should be grateful," he continues, his voice a soft, sinister murmur. "I'm the only one who can keep you safe from the dangers outside these walls. Without me, you're nothing. Fragile, delicate, Belladonna."

He rises from his seat, his eyes running over you thinly. Bruises and cuts map your body, evidence of how tight, how unyielding his hold on you really is, even though he would never outright hurt you.

"Stay with me," Dazai murmurs in a low, pleading tone. "You do not need anyone else. You are just prey out there. Here, with me, you are safe. You are treasured."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, his lips brushed against your skin—that was possessive. "Say it with me, no one else will be able to protect you like I can. No one else ever will care about you the way I do."

He straightened up then stepped back, but his eyes didn't leave yours.

Dazai said he never hurts you, but that's all he does, and yet you're starting to lose your correct thoughts. Starting to think maybe what Dazai does is normal. "Oh, darling," he coos as tears are falling down your face, you hadn't even noticed that the tears begin to fall.

"Let me take care of you, make you feel better," he continues, and your body falls flat against the mattress, your hands now falling by your head as he holds them down and your eyes widen.

"W-What?" you manage to barely speak out, your bottom lip trembling. You knew what was coming but you didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Hush, Bella," he sings, spreading layers of hot and heavy kisses across your bare neck and shoulder, dipping back and repeating, "I know you're scared, but I'm here."

You're scared of him, not the outside world.

But your mind and soul are forgetting what it feels like to be true.

"You're mine," he whispered, the breath scorching your skin as his lips made good, solid bites and hickeys down your body, ignoring the yelps and pained mewls that left your plump lips. "Only mine."

A chill ran down your spine as his words emerged, yet a twisted thrill surged through you. His obsession over you was so palpable, almost suffocating, yet it drew you to him like a moth to flame.

And as he came, his lips inches from yours, you knew your resolve was utterly useless. No other vacancy can there be inside the realm of Dazai except for his lusts, and you were utterly ensnared helpless allowed into his kingdom of dark and lust.

Dazai catches your hand right before you make contact with his chest and brings it up to his neck. He closes the remaining space between us, chest to chest, and kisses you, making you forget.

You forget everything he's done to you because he makes love to you so sweetly.

You forget how he gives you bruises.

The cuts.

Forgetting how he marks you all over your body so everyone knows that you're his.

He lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. The new position has his cock nearly lined up perfectly where your spongey, gummy spot was, but he moves before you can lose your mind enough to take advantage. We fell down to the bed, inciting an out-of-breath huff from your throats.

"See, you love this," Dazai hums, his cock resting snugly in your walls and you mewl in response. "You're so pretty like this, Bella."

"S-Stop," you moan out, your words contradicting your body.

"Belladonna," he hums, cupping your face with one hand. "It's alright, you can have anything you want and I'm here for you."

But this isn't what you wanted, right?

He cups your breasts, but he doesn’t linger long before he slides down your body and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below your belly button. Content sighs left your mouth as your hands entangled in his hair.

You come so hard, it feels like every system is shutting down. It’s as if that orgasm took his edge off because he takes his time now, dragging his mouth over your stomach, kissing the curves of your breasts. It wasn't too long before his own cum spills inside your pussy, a white ring forming around the base of his cock, his and your own cum mixed in.

He loves how you clench around his length, you say you don't want him, but the way you milk him dry would say otherwise. You cum just from having his length snug inside your cunt and the feeling of his dangerous kisses covering your body.

"You did so well, love," he praises, cupping my face once more, kissing away more tears. "So good for me."

Pulling out slowly, Dazai spreads your legs, admiring the cum that slips from your cute pussy and he momentarily frowns. "No, this isn't going to do," he hums to himself and your eyes widen in worry of what was going to happen.

You were so unsure of what Dazai was thinking, but your thoughts were answered when he entered his length back snug into your cunt and you let a whimper leave your throat in overstimulation.

"It's okay," he reassures, putting his weight on you before readjusting your position, now you were spooning each other, your frame in front of his while he kept his cock all nice and warm in you.

An occasional shiver radiated from your body and Dazai's grip would tighten on you, more bruises forming on your body. His aim was to have you pregnant, to fill you with his seed and breed your cunt, wanting to see your belly swell with his child and watch you struggle even more when you're with a child.

He knows you'd have to be even more careful

and therefore

more obedient.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | bsd m.list

[justreadingfics]

Sensitive Topic - A "Looking For a Heartbeat" One-Shot

Words: 4k+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Six years have passed since Bucky and you got back together. You are married and you’re pregnant with your second child. Everything’s great. Until a very sensitive topic from your past comes back to haunt you.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Jealousy, Angst, Fluff, Mention of Past Relationships, Part of a Series, Pregnancy kink, Pregnancy sex.

Based on this request: Smutty idea:

Sometime after they got back together, Reader goes through a brief period where she feels insecure about Bucky and Anna's past relationship and intimacy, so Bucky shows her all the ways in which he only ever touched and made love to Reader, not Anna.

A/N: Thank you Anon for the request/idea (sorry for taking so long), and thank you @flordeamatista for being such an amazing beta.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It's been six years.

Six. Fucking. Years.

You keep telling that to yourself, sitting on the couch of your shared apartment, running your hand with a wedding ring over your swelling belly.

You are married and pregnant with your second child with him.

And he loves you.

You.

So why the hell is your mind drifting back to that particular topic… that very sensitive topic, making your nerves burn with that twisted little feeling in your gut?

Jealousy…

Maybe you can blame it on the mess of hormones you’ve been going through. You don’t remember being quite like that when you were pregnant with Summer, your first child. The mood swings weren't constant then.

This second pregnancy, though, has been all about feelings swirling inside you unbidden. One second you could be laughing and dancing with Summer at one of her cartoons, the next you would be bawling your eyes out at the same fucking cartoon.

All of your feelings are mixed up. This one right here being the newest addition to the pack.

And it sucks. It so fucking sucks.

10 minutes before…

A light humming escapes your lips as you set the lemonade jar and glass on the trail. A smile plasters  your face as you grab the set and head towards the new room.

The new baby’s nursery.

Your second daughter. 

Well, he doesn't know it's a daughter. With Summer, your first, he chose to discover the sex, while you preferred to wait. Now he chose otherwise while you knew the sex. 

You can't wait to see his face when he sees a baby girl. He’s such an amazing dad to Summer and already is for this one, whose name you still must figure out. You have yet to talk about the options, but between your work with the Avengers and his own as a stay at home dad (as he so proudly likes to call himself), time is short. Just now, he’s taking the little time Summer is at School to work on the new nursery.

Jesus, that firecracker of a girl is already a handful.With two of them, what are you and Bucky going to do? The thought makes you smile fondly.

Your memory flashes back to six years ago, when you were preparing lemonade for Bucky and Steve, who were working on Summer's bedroom.But that time you weren’t married still. 

God…you had no idea what you two were at that time, practically living together, pining for each other like crazy, but none of you daring to step further, too scared to do so.

The memory makes you smile harder. You almost kissed him while he felt Summer kicking, placing his hands on your belly for the first time… only to be cockblocked by Steve…

Now, looking at the life you two have built together, that time seems like it happened ages ago. Another life. You know now that everything happened as it should be and you’re exactly where you are supposed to be. 

With him and your little family.

And well, no Steve this time, you chuckle to yourself pushing the door to the nursery with your elbow.

The view before you makes you suck in the chuckle down your throat.

Bucky.

Your husband.

Shirtless.

Sweaty back to you as he’s up on a ladder, finishing to stick the teddy bear’s wallpaper. Pants hang low on his slim waist. Back muscles flex with the movement of his arms.

His fucking hair half loose half pulled back in a high bun. Like a damn warrior… an extremely hot one.  

Goddammit.That man knows how to make your throat dry and you breath hitch without even trying. A sweet little coil twists your belly and lower. The tray feels heavy in your hands while your thoughts turn into images of you running your tongue up the muscles of his back to his neck, wrapping your arms around his broad frame and feeling his warmth against yours.

That’s when it hits.

And everything shifts.

Did she ever do that to him?

Did she ever touch him like that?

Did he like it when she touched him?

The mere thought is unbearable, agonizing.Cold lodges in your chest, freezing out all the growing heat you just felt. 

You don’t wait to see if he knew you were there before you leave the tray on the working table and head to the living room with heavy feet to sulk on the couch where you are now.

Fuck. 

You’re sure the trip down to memory lane ended up driving your thoughts to her.

Anna.

You haven’t thought of her in ages. The woman Bucky was in a relationship for the first months of your pregnancy with Summer. As much as it hurts to admit and remember, he wasn’t there with you then.

He was with her.

But in all honesty, you know you have no reason to be thinking of her now or to be feeling like you are. You and Bucky have been through so much to get where you are now and you love each other. 

He loves you and only you, there’s no doubt of that.

Reason, however, is not what’s guiding your feelings now and bile rushes up your throat at the intrusive images of them touching each other. Of him touching her in a way he touches you now.

She got to see him, hold him, touch him. He touched her. You can't get rid of the thoughts.

He had sex with her.

The two of you have talked about his relationship with Anna, but you never actually got to that specific topic. He hasn't spoken out loud, and you haven't pushed it with him.

But you knew, of course, you knew. 

After all, he was trying hard to make things work with her. And she’s a woman, a beautiful one, and he, well… he’s simply the type of man no woman would kick out of their beds, especially if they’re in love with him like she was.  

Your jaw clenches, but you don’t need to turn your head towards the entrance to know he’s there. Don’t need to look at him to know there’s worry etched on his face as he takes you in, sitting there blatantly ignoring him.

“Hey,” he’s smart enough to keep himself halted as he calls you with his soft voice, “Are you ok?”

“Yes.”

“Sweetheart…” He tries and you huff, turning even more away from him.

That’s when he can’t help himself and rushes inside the living room. Kneeling on the carpet right in front of you, he places his hands gently on your knees.

“What’s going on? Did I do something?” He pleads softly.

There’s a hitch on his tone that makes you finally look at him. His beautiful blue eyes are ​​focusedon your face, searching in almost desperation for any sign of what might be happening to you.

The anger you were feeling melts just like that.

“No, my love, no…” You sigh in almost defeat and your hand cups his face instinctively, caressing the light stub shadowing his jaw. You shake your head and then turn away from him, not bearing to look at him when you add, “It´s stupid… You’ll think I’m so stupid.”

“Well… Try me.”

When you glance back at him your eyes catch his bare chest and it’s her hand you picture running over his skin. Your jaw clenches at the offending picture in your mind and that fire, not the good one, starts burning again.

“Was it good?” You shoot.

“What was good?”

“With Anna.” You shift, making his hands drop from your knees.

“What?” He frowns and tilts his head at you.

“Sex with Anna… Was it good?” You keep the sharpness in your voice and cross your arms in front of your chest, staring right at him.

The frown deepens on his forehead and his lips part, as if looking for something to say and finding nothing. Sheer confusion twists his face.  

“Fuck…” You sigh, covering your face with your hands for just a moment before looking back at him, holding back the tears threatening to spill. “Forget it, it’s stupid.” You repeat, shaking your head.

As he stares back at you, the confusion on his features starts settling into something else.  Something you take as.. empathy?

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel bad.” He states matter-of-factly. 

“It's just the hormones.” You try to brush it off with a laugh but it just sounds forced, even to your ears. You look away.

But, apparently, Bucky’s having none of it.  There’s no trace of mock or amusement on him as he swiftly gets up to sit beside you, his front completely turned to you. Ever so gently, he takes your hands in his and places a kiss on the back of them. The sweet gesture makes your heart jump and you slowly shift to face him as well.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He asks, running his thumb over your hands, which he rests on his lap, linked to his.

His words come so naturally to him. Because that’s how it’s been now. You two talk. And it’s been the key to your happiness all these years. So you do just that. You talk to him.

“It’s just…” You look briefly to the floor before gathering the braveness to look back at him. “We never really talked about how far your relationship with Anna went. I know that you two cared for each other and I know. I swear I know that it’s in the past and you love me.” You make sure to make that very clear to him, before shrugging, “But I– Fuck– Something made me think of it, just now, and I kept thinking about you two…”

You take a deep breath. His soft eyes on you the whole time, his willingness to listen prompting you to speak, “You two in bed together… I kept wondering what it really meant for you. How did it happen? How did you feel?.Was it good? I mean–she’s beautiful and–Shit,” You curse under your breath, interrupting your blabbering for a second with a shake of your head, “I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m so-”

“Hey. hey,” He cuts you in, softly squeezing your hands before you could blurt out an apology. “Have I ever told you how I felt when you brought Harry over for that first time? Steve’s birthday, remember?”

You cock your head at him. Almost amused by the absurdity of you and Harry - the man you met at a supporting group - being anything more than friends. Even before you found out he and Natasha had hooked up (and then married), you had never seen Harry like that. You had a suspicion Bucky had been a little jealous back then, but you never really talked about that either.

“Harry? Are you serious?” You ask. A little smile on your lips.

“Dead serious,” he admits, nodding, “I wanted to kill the bastard. I felt like shit. And, honestly, it took me a long while to get over the feeling, even when I found out the guy was head over heels for Nat.” He blows out a puff of air, “Trust me, I understand.”

You let out a breathy smile. He smiles too.

But it's brief.  

“I did have sex with Anna when I was with her.” He estates, his face serious again.

Your jaw clenches, the small amusement from seconds earlier vanishing into the air. You know that. It’s the whole reason for that conversation. But that doesn’t make it easy to hear it from him.

“You ask me if it was good?” He continues when you don’t say anything, “When I had sex with Anna, it was always an attempt at something. Trying, trying… It was always something like… an effort.”

You gulp at the admission, and he shrugs, not once avoiding your gaze, “It never felt…” He sighs, searching for the word. “Natural. It never felt natural. So, no. I don’t think good really applies to what it was. Not really. It may make me a jerk to say it, but that’s the truth.”

You have no idea what to say to him. All of a sudden, you wish you hadn’t started that conversation at all. You feel like he’s just revealed something you should be satisfied with, happy even.

But you don’t really know how it makes you feel.

If you would guess, you would say you feel sorry for himand her, even. How hard it must’ve been. To be in a relationship meant and designed in every aspect to make one of them forget someone else.   

“And that’s because it wasn’t you.”  

As he whispered his words, your breath caught. He reaches his hand, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You lean against his touch. You have no idea why, but right now you feel so glad you’re here with him, like this. That horrible time in the past. 

“It could be her or anyone else. It would never mean or feel like it is with you. And it would definitely never be as good. Not even close.”

He holds your stare and you do it back. So many feelings, so much has gone between you two. Good and bad. All so you could live your love as you can today. He’s looking at you as if he’s feeling all that, too.

And he’s as glad as you are.

“I fucking love you.” His jaw clenches, as if the words come out of him filled with some kind of deep force.

“I love you.” You take in a shuddering breath, letting the mighty power those words carry rush over you.

He shifts on his seat and something in his gaze changes. Just like that, the atmosphere turns into something else.

Oh.

Oh.

The hormones inside of you are quick to notice the change as something you can only describe as a burning flame twists in your lower belly. You bite your lip, looking down at his. So soft. So lust and delicious.

So yours.  

Before you could even think to lean in, he swiftly grabs you and puts you across his lap.

“It’s like my body was made for you.” His voice is low as his hold on your waist tightens. “You drive me fucking crazy… the way you smell…so good.”

He tips his head to run his nose over the dip between your neck and shoulder. Taking in and relishing in your scent.

Your eyes flutter.  Your core cries for attention as you feel him already hardening against your ass.

“That thing you do with your fingers on my neck.” He grabs your hand to place it on the spot he just mentioned. You promptly do that little move you know he’s crazy about.

“Yeah, fuck,” he whispers and places a kiss on your neck, making a shiver run down your spine.

“Bucky…” you plead.

“The way you ride me.” He ignores your plea and keeps running his lips on your neck between words. 

Desirous words that make your mind spin. “You sound so beautiful when my cock is inside you. Your fucking breasts...”

He shows you his meaning by grabbing a handful of one of your breasts through your dress. It prompts a whimper out of you and your fingers dip into his locks, undoing his bun in the process.   

“God you’re fucking sexy, I have to hold myself back sometimes when there’s people around…But there’s no one here… Right, sweetheart?” His voice turns infinitely lower as his metal hand snakes under your dress.

That morning you had decided for a simple short tank top dress with a loose fitting to prepare yourself for the heat you’ve been feeling all the time.  You had no idea how much it would come in handy.

Fuck. 

You want him so damn much. So damn much it’s burning you. But the bastard, the bastard, keeps his touch under the skirt almost chaste, just massaging the skin and flesh of your thighs.

Not being able to hold yourself any longer, you turn his face to yours  and grab his lips in a kiss. The movement is harsh, almost violent. Pouring all your need and desire for him in there.

Responding to the kiss with the same ferocity, bucky fiercely moves your hips with his metal hand and grounds you against the hardness beneath you.

“Do you see what you do to me? Huh?” His voice is hoarse against your lips. His hand moves with you, but he doesn't really have to make any effort as your body moves on its own accord, grinding itself against his.

Longing for a breath, his lips part from your as he leans his forehead against your, “Is it like that for you too? Tell me you want me as much as I want you. All the fucking time.” He grits out.

Words evade you as your hips keep moving against him, chasing a release for the burning sparkles inside your core. So, as a way to show him, you grab his flesh hand under your dress and move higher, moving it under your underwear.

You’re soaked.

He lets out a harsh groan and you bet it’s pure primal instinct when his fingers start to move against your most sensitive spots. 

Moaning at the sensation, you bring your arms around his neck, and work on kissing every little piece of him you can reach. His ears, cheeks, temple, lips, neck, his touch is so right. Just where he knows drives you crazy.

God, you love how much he knows you.

You roll your hips in a frenetic rhythm, practically riding his hand and feeling how impossibly harder he’s getting beneath you.

As if he’s feeling the exact same thing, he lets out a guttural groan, “I love you. I want you so much.” His voice rasps as he leans back to look at you. “You’re gonna come for me.” He states rather than ask, and fuck if don’t almost melt at the mix of dominance and desperation of his tone.

You grind harder against his hand, ragged breaths slipping out of your parted lips while you stare right back at him.

“I need to feel you, I need to see you, fuck– I need you.” He pulls down the straps of your dress, leaving your dress bunched up in the middle and baring your breasts for him. He lets out a satisfied hum before dipping his head to suck at one of them.

You let out a loud moan and you arch against his lips with the intensity of your climax, that comes without warning.  This only prompts Bucky to suck your breasts harder, going from one to the other with ravenous appetite while you come undone around his fingers

In a reflex, you quickly pull his hand away, the sensations too much, and drop your body limp against him.

You stay like that, sucking in some much needed breaths inside your lungs as he lazily kisses your bare shoulders, wrapping his arms around you.

It’s only instinct, primal and hungry instinct, when you start moving your body, grinding against his hardness, even if the angle of you sitting across his body just doesn’t allow you much. 

“Hmm…” His hands travel around over you, “Do you want my cock, babe?” He offers in a sultry whisper.

“You did say something about riding.” You manage to let out between your still panting breathing.

He chuckles and bites his lower lip as, in a swift move, you adjust yourself on his lap, facing forward, while your back is to his chest.  

Both of you don’t want to waste any time, so, as you lift a little to pull your underwear to the side, he makes quick work of pushing down his pants. What a sight it is to watch from behind you his thick and hard cock bobbing against his stomach.

He catches your hungry stare and makes a show of giving it a few bumps, “Come and get it. It’s all yours.”

You don’t need to be told twice before you align your entrance to his tip and, with his help, make your descent to sit on him again.

Your eyes shutter and your lips part at the familiar stretch, “Goddammit you feel good.” You breathe, already bringing your hand to circle your clit as you feel him bottom up.

Bucky huffs through his teeth, “Right back at you, honey.” He circles his metal arm around you, grabbing a handful of your breast, as you start moving.

“Fuck… Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He praises, kneading the soft flesh in his hand as you pick up your rhythm.

You're a mess at this point, your dress is a mess, your body is a mess, but you don't care, all you can feel is his cock inside you and your hand on your clit.

All you can listen to is his loud moans mingling with your ragged pants as you ride him hard and fast, your ass bumping against him while he runs his tongue over your back.

You cry out and your pace falters at the electric sensation of your pleasure. “Bucky,” you let out a vicious sound when your second climax reaches you like a wave, making your legs tremble. Your pussy clenches around him.

“Oh, God,” he reacts at the gripping sensation, and you deliberately do it again, just because he sounds so beautiful, “Oh God, oh Baby… Yeah, fuck, just like that.” Between the blabbering words, he takes control of your hips, moving you wantonly around his cock. 

It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling his release inside you, groaning harshly and dragging sloppy open mouth kisses over your shoulder.

You lazily roll your hips around him to drag out the pleasure for both of you before you cease the movement and rest your back fully against his chest. He keeps himself inside you while wrapping his arms around your middle. Sighing, he draws slow circles over your belly.  

You’re the first to gather the force to speak, “Fuck, that was…”

“I know, fuck… I know.” He agrees, a tad breathless, “You’re the only one who ever made me feel this way,” he adds, still moving his hands around you and kissing your neck from behind you, like he just can’t get enough. A warm sensation settles inside you.

“You’re the only one I ever wanted.” He nuzzles your neck, “Always. No one can compare.” He sounds so honest, a deep and desperate kind of honesty that makes your heart swell with love for him.

You tilt your head so you can look at him. He halts from ravishing your neck to look back at you.

“I know, baby,” You assure, staring deeply into him. You need him to be sure of that, “I love you. You’re the only one I ever wanted, too. Always.”

You lean in and kiss him. Not that desperate and needy kiss from before, but one of love, devotion, peace and assurance. Everything you want you two to have in your relationship.

And you do.

He sighs through the kiss, as if he felt everything you put in there.

That’s when the caressing on your body, your legs, your belly intensifies.

You break the kiss and lift an eyebrow at him when you feel his cock hardening inside you again.

The sheepish look on his face is almost comical. “You look so beautiful when you’re pregnant. And I had to keep my hands to myself last time.” He pouts, before his lips twist into a naughty smile, “Literally”.

A breathy laugh slips out of your lips and, despite yourself, a tight kind of want starts pooling in your lower belly.  

He seems to sense that, as something dangerous laces his chuckle, “That firecracker of our daughter will be at school for a little longer, we’ve gotta make it count, beautiful.”

You don’t even have the chance to yelp before he easily handles you and you find yourself out of the sofa and on your all fours over the carpet. 

And once again he shows you how much he wants you.

Only you.

[sassypossumm]

Finally

Art cred: mao0047 on X (they're really so good...)

FINALLY getting around to cleaning out my inbox, to the lovie that requested Professor!Miguel x Student this one's for you (made reader a TA grad student) MDNI TW: smut,brief mention of child's death, infidelity, P in V,degredation

"Professor? You in here?" Knocking on the heavy door, you frowned when you got no response.

He always did this.

Miguel O'Hara, stodgy genetics prof that he was, had a bad habit of falling down research rabbit holes. And when he did, you might as well have been dealing with the absent minded professor.

Sighing, you shoved open the door and stepped inside, immediately taken aback by the musty smell and horribly dim light. As your eyes adjusted to the light, your heart squeezed at the sight.

When you'd first started this TA program, you'd dreaded your assignment. Genetics?! You'd balked. What on earth did you know about genetics?!

Then you'd met your assigned professor.

Miguel O'Hara, genetics 101 prof. The man was a giant, disheveled, socially awkward, cerebral...teddy bear.

There was no other way to put it. One look at those wide, tired, gorgeous brown eyes and you knew you were sunk. Now, leaning against thr door frame, watching his hulking frame dwarf the dingy hole of an office, you couldn't stop the thundering of your heart.

You cleared your throat, and Miguel's head shot up. You stifled a smile at the way his glasses slid down his nose, and made note of the sheer exhaustion etched into his features. He looked far beyond his 38 years, in fact, he looked ready to be carved into the side of Mount Rushmore alongside the stony faced founding fathers.

"How long you been in here, Professor?" At your concerned tone, Miguel leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Stepping into the space, you struggled to not let your eyes wander to the way his frame practically swallowed his chair as he man spread.

Sitting across from him, you busied yourself with papers as he ran a hand through his hair and groaned. You rubbed your thighs together, trying not to imagine what those gorgeous thighs of his might feel like braced on either side of you as you-

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" The sound of his voice shot through you, bringing you back to the present. Looking up, you met his eyes, and took in his expectant stare. Clearly he'd been trying to get your attention. Your cheeks heated at your foolish thoughts. Blinking hard, you pushed down the unrealistic notions.

There was no way a man like Miguel O'Hara would ever be interested in you. After all, hadn't you been throwing out hints half the semester.... and after that last poetry session you'd both attended...maybe Hobie was right...you were reading more into the lingering stares than was actually there.

"Yes, professor," You cleared your throat. "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening." Miguel gave you a tired smile and pulled off his bifocals.

"It's okay, Y/N. I remember my last week of finals before I received my PHD."

"Did you get your PHD before or after Fred Flinstone received his?" His eyes creased at the corners at your light banter.

"Before, you smart ass, who do you think tutored him?" He said with a conspiratorial grin. Of all the things you'd done and accomplished in thr past year, this was what you'd miss thr most.

The easy familiarity you and Miguel had slipped into. After papers were graded, and everything was organized, you'd occasionally relax and just... talk. Over a cup of coffee, and even at his house once or twice, you'd just talk.

It was crazy to think just how familiar you'd become with his life. Over the past several months, he'd begun opening up more and more. About his first girlfriend, how he'd left her for his brother's girlfriend. You'd been struck at the thought of the Miguel you knew cheating on anybody...it seemed such an alien idea.

Then he'd shown you the pictures of his daughter, Gabi. The daughter who'd been cruelly taken from him in a car accident. Your heart had broke. To have something so tragic happen, and then to top it off, his wife blamed him for the whole thing.

Youd tried to assure him that it clearly hadn't been his fault, but he'd stiffened and shook off your attempts. On thst one, you'd backed down. He'd put up a clear boundary, and you hadn't wanted to push him away.

Miguel, however, had no qualms about dragging his ex wife through the verbal mud, and venomously at that. From the way he spoke, it was obvious he had no remaining good will for the woman who'd blamed him for his daughters death, and insulted him at every turn for his supposed 'giving up' when he'd begun gaining weight.

Your blood still boiled when you thought about it. The woman was hurting, but that hadn't given her thr right to hurt Miguel. Righteous indignation burned in your belly as you looked at the tured, beautiful man across from you.

He deserved the world.

"Professor,"

"Please, Miguel, we're practically colleagues." He said, stretching his arms above his head.

Now that was odd...

Miguel had always been very strict about remaining professional. Come to think of it, he'd been calling you by your first name since you'd entered... maybe...

"Professor, I don't think that's very," he cut you off with a pointed look.

"Next fall you'll be just as much a professor as I am."

"Shakespearean Poetry and the Romantics can hardly be considered of equal value to genetics." You balk, but not for long. Miguel leaned forward and looked at you intently.

"Poetry is just as valuable as genetics, if not more so." You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes quieted you. The eyes were thr same, that visible exhaustion seemed a permanent addition to his features, but there was something...something different.

There was an unfamiliar intensity dancing in those deep pools of brown you'd fallen for. Before, you'd adoring thought of his eyes like those of a big puppy, but now...now the only phrase that came to mind was 'bedroom eyes'. You shivered at both the thought, and the electricity you felt growing between you.

On your end, you'd always known that draw existed,but youd never dreamt this giant teddy bear felt the same.

"Professor," Your tone was breathy. His brow raised slightly.

"Miguel." He instructed simply. Your tongue stuck to the rood of your mouth, and your skin grew warmer.

"Miguel." You murmured. He hummed, and you felt a thrill of pride run of your spine at the idea that you'd pleased him. "What, um, what is, what are we," He silenced you with another seerimg look.

"I'm socially awkward, Y/N," he gave you a warm smile. "But not entirely oblivious." Sliding his hand across the table, he grazed your fingers with his thumb. "I'd have to be entirely ignorant to ignore this...spark, if you will, that exists between us."

You shuddered at the contact, your eyes fluttering shut at his husky tone. A deep rumble went through his chest and he raised your fingers to his lips.

"Why wait so long?" You chanced a look at him, and felt your breathing shallow. He smiled against your fingers, and drew your thumb into his mouth, sucking softly, before withdrawing it, nipping the tip teasingly.

Where on earth did this man come from, and what had he done with your Miguel?

"For one thing, it hardly seemed prudent to risk either of our positions for something that was so clearly more than a one time fuck." He said calmly, turning over your hand to kiss thr inside of your wrist. You shuddered at his calculated tone and bit back a sound.

"You don't want to fuck me?" Your voice wavered, the words no more than a breath. Miguel's eyes darkened, and a predatory grin slowly morphed his features from placid genetics teacher to something...lewder.

"Oh, I want to fuck you, hermosa." He purred, sucking at your fluttering pulse point. "But I also want to make love to you, decadently." His lips dance up your arm. "Voraciously."

He stands, leaning over the table to dwarf you completely, pressing delicate kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. "Over. And over. And over again." His voice rumbles low in your ear, sending tendrils of arousal straight to your core.

Your head falls to the side, invitingly. You're not entirely certain what's come over him, but you're not about to question it. A whimper escapes your mouth as he finally turns your face up towards his with a firm hand on your jaw.

"For another thing," he breathed against your lips. "I wanted to see who'd break first."

"You." His lips quirk momentarily at your quip.

"Si, nena. You prove to be quite stubborn." He growls the final word before capturing your lips with his. You moan softly, and when his tongue brushes against yours, you surrender completely.

Whining desperately, you rake your fingers through his hair and tug wantonly at his shirt as his tongue expertly coaxed a litenty of primal praises from your throat. His hand slid down your jaw to enclose gently around your throat, and he groaned as your moans and whimpers sent vibrations through his fingers.

You trid tugging him across the desk, but Miguel simply grunted, tearing his mouth away from yours to press bruising sucks and kisses down the column of your throat. You whined at began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Ah-ah" Miguel growled, catching your hand in his. Biting down on your collar bone, he pulled back and looked at you. "Greedy little thing... we do this my way."

His way meant bending you over the desk, wrists held behind your back in one of his large hands as he took you mercilessly from behind.

"Th-this the fucking you mentioned?" You panted between thrusts, groaning when the base of his cock grazed your clit. Miguel hissed at the way your walls fluttered in response to the stimulation and slowed his pace, wrapping his free hand around the back of your neck, pushing your further into the desks surface.

"Callarse la boca." He grunted, picking up his speed. Miguel's hips slapped against your ass, accompanied by his occasional moan and your profuse broken sounds of pleasure. The erotic sounds seemed to spur him on, and his grip on your neck tightened as he released your wrists to slap your ass soundly. You cried out, clenching around his deliciously hard cock.

"You like that?" He growled, slapping your ass again. "You like being fucked like a slut?" Your eyes squeezed shut and you moaned. He reased your neck and gripped your hair, turning your face roughly as he continued steadily pounding into you.

"Answer me." He hissed, slapping your ass again. You like being fucked like this? Like my own personal cock sleeve?" Your breathing was labored and you moaned weakly. You could feel the veins of his cock as he brushed passed your g-spot with ever thrust.

"I, Uh-huh, so good, Miggy...." He groaned at your needy tone. "Please, need, need it, so bad..." You whimpered, thrumming and flushed, teetering on the edge of climax.

"Shhh. I got you, bebita. I'll give you what you need." He shushed you, pressing a tender kiss to your temple before grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts. You cried out as his cock bullied your clit and pussy with quick rhythmic thrusts.

"I'm gonna, Migs," You babbled, scrambling for purchase on anything to cling to. Folding himself over you, Miguel laced his hands over yours and murmured nonsensical praises in your ear, not letting up on his punishing pace.

"Let go, I got you."

With those words, you toppled over the edge, twitching and shuddering as you came all over his cock, and went boneless against the desks surface, lost in a haze of white hot pleasure as your walls clamped around his cock like a vice. Miguel groaned and his hips stuttered before his cock twitched, and he came soon after you, filling the condom with his cum.

Sighing heavily, Miguel scooped you into his arms before flopping back in his chair. Cleanup and damage control would be a job for later. Right now, you were sat, warm and sated in his arms.

And that was enough for him.

[lostgirlmuseum]

Pulse 💗

Summary: Bucky can hear your heartbeat through the wall, and he can tell everything isn’t alright.

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader

Words: 600 (exactly 600, holy moly)

Warnings: None really, just mentions of anxiety and adhd. Wrote this within an hour, sorry if its bad

A/N: Self indulgent fic alert! This goes out to all my peeps who struggle with ADHD/anxiety. It sucks, but hang in there!

Divider credit: @saradika

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” you called, not looking up from the papers on your desk.

A brief second passed, and the door creaked open. A cautious Bucky peeked his head in.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked.

You suddenly became aware of your leg bouncing 70 miles an hour, and forced yourself to stop. 

“Yes, why?” You replied, ignoring the urge to get up and walk around.

“Well, I—” he hesitated, and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck, “I was passing by and I heard your heartbeat going really fast—super hearing and all that,” he awkwardly chuckled.

“120,” you stated, glancing at your watch.

“What?”

“My heart rate is 120 right now.”

“That’s pretty high for just sitting,” he responded, having a hard time hiding his concern.

“Well, y’know, anxiety,” you breathily laughed, but it wasn’t that funny.

“What are you anxious about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Nothing.” You sighed, lowering your pen and facing him. At this point he was now in your room, perched in front of your door.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Seriously, I’m kinda freaking out over nothing right now.”

“C’mon, you’re always telling me I’m valid for having concerns, you are too.”

“No, I mean there is literally no singular thing I’m anxious about right now—it’s just physical anxiety, the general feeling that I’m going crazy, or dying, I don’t know, both I guess. That sounds so dramatic. I really am fine. I mean, I’m not fine, but I am, yeah?” You rambled on and on, and cursed yourself when you noticed your leg had started bouncing again.

“I don’t think you’re okay, do you want me to bring you to Dr. Cho?”

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think there’s much she can do. The worst of this should pass in thirty minutes anyway, it’s just my meds.”

“Oh.” 

You could tell Bucky wanted to ask more, but wasn’t sure if it was polite.

“I have ADD. ADHD, whatever you want to call it. So I take medicine so I can focus on certain tasks, like these reports. And it does help me focus, but it’s also a stimulant, so it also gives me a lot of anxiety, which is totally awesome!” You scoffed.

“Why do you keep stopping your leg from bouncing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to annoy you.”

“If bouncing your leg makes you feel better, it doesn’t bother me.”

“I feel like I’m embarrassing myself,” you whined. 

Beep.

You looked at your watch.

“Oh, look at that, 126!”

“Do you—would…would a hug be something that would help you? Calm you down?” He offered, casually putting his arms out for emphasis.

“Sure, Bucky,” you smiled, and stood up to meet him halfway. You knew it wouldn’t fix it, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Bucky wrapped you in a big embrace, and you were shocked by how warm and teddy-like it was. You gave a small sigh, and rested your face in his neck, knowing you weren’t going to be the first to let go.

He held onto you for longer than you expected, just calmly swaying together in your room. 

To your dismay, he eventually let go of you. You were about to thank him and return to your work, but he gently grabbed your wrist and brought your watch to his sight. 

“107. Good, but I think we can do better than that,” he sweetly smiled, and wrapped you back up into his arms. 

“It might take a while.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“As long as it takes.” He cooed.

A/N: Should be either A) studying for a history exam I have tmw, or B) writing my stupid essay that the rough draft is due tmw, but I wrote this instead bc I’m procrastinating  HELP ME

[frenchkisstheabyss]

୨୧ tell me a secret ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: roommate!hyunjin x chubby!fem!reader x roommate!yeji

୨୧ Genre: fluff/smut

୨୧ Summary: Stuck in the house with nothing to do on a Friday night, you and your roommates decide to play a game called Tell Me A Secret. Similar to Truth or Dare, the rules are simple. Do the dare or spill your secrets. It's just an innocent, fun way to pass the time. Well, maybe not so innocent.

୨୧ Word Count: 2.3kish

୨୧ Warnings: ✨ first and foremost, if you don't wanna be with a girl I humbly thank you for stopping by but the exit is to your left ✨ fingering, oral sex (f receiving & you're the one giving), a lil nipple play, a lil roughness, finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mention of masturbation (m & f), hyunjin has listened to you masturbate btw, yeji's a lil jealous, threesome (obviously, babes), the hwangs share you but don't hook up w/ each other, spanking, pet names (pretty girl, baby), low key soft dom vibes, heavy make out sesh.

୨୧ A/N: I received this as a request from a darling anon so here we are. I think it's super sweet that I got this request because I never get them for girl groups so yas kween. Anyway, I hope you love it my sweet anon and everyone else too!

“Aaaah! No way! Ew! I can’t watch this!” Yeji shrieks, covering her eyes with the blanket.

Standing at the side of your bed, Hyunjin swishes a raw egg around in a glass. The three of you had every intention of going to a party tonight but an unexpected storm had other plans. So here you all are, lounging around in your pajamas daring each other to drink raw eggs. 

“You won’t do it!” you taunt, fiddling with the ears of the teddy bear in your lap, “Just tell us a secret.” Yeji stretches out across the bed, resting her head on your thigh. “Yeah, tell us. Did you actually hook up with that girl who works at the cafe?” she asks, scrunching her nose up, “The girl who smells like ketchup.” 

You seize the opportunity to double down on poor Hyunjin. It’s one of the many unspoken rules of the apartment. “She does smell like ketchup. They don’t even have ketchup there.” “Shut up!” Hyunjin huffs, placing a hand on his hip. He stares down at the raw egg, his stomach turning the longer he drags out the inevitable.

Tilting his head back, he brings the cup to his lips and—

“Shit, I can’t do it.” 

“I knew it” Yeji gloats, slyly moving her head further onto your lap. She turns to give you the cutest pouty face. The one that you just know means she wants you to play in her hair. You give in without thinking, that’s what you always do with Yeji. How could you ever say no to a girl like her?

Twirling her silken strands around your fingertips, you try to remind yourself that this is your best friend. Your roommate. Yes she’s been cozying up to you a lot more lately but it’s nothing. Just like the thumping in your chest whenever she takes your hand or kisses your cheek. It’s nothing. 

“Okay, so, uh, I didn’t hook up with the ketchup girl but…” Hyunjin sets the glass down on the dresser and pauses for dramatic effect, “Seungmin did. That’s a secret right?” You and Yeji gasp in unison, the shock of Hyunjin’s betrayal rocking you to your core.

“You did not just—you’re a terrible!” you laugh, shaking your head. “You should be ashamed” Yeji agrees, reveling in the regret on Hyunjin’s face. Hyunjin flips you the middle finger, “Fine then. Fuck you guys, I’m going to bed.” He isn’t really mad, both of you know it, and he isn’t really going anywhere but you entrain his tantrum anyway.

“Jinnie, come on. We were just joking. Stay” you beg, catching him by the wrist as he goes to grab his phone. Yeji’s pouty face may have the power to bring anyone to their knees but so does yours and Hyunjin’s nowhere near immune to it. He doesn’t want to be. 

He forces you to suffer for a few more seconds, a scowl fixed on his face, before giving in. “Fine but it’s your turn now” he says, hopping onto the bed, “Tell us a secret or do the dare.” “Well you have to tell me what the dare is first.” Yeji and Hyunjin turn to each other, striking up a silent conversation only they can understand.

As close as the three of you are, the connection they have is near telepathic and has meant trouble for you since the day you moved in. Yeji sits up, her strawberry gloss tinted lips mere inches from your face, “Kiss us.” 

Suddenly your internal temperature skyrockets, making the room unbearably hot. “K-kiss you?” you stutter, “On the cheek you mean?” Hyunjin cracks a devious smile, “Not quite.” You look to Yeji and back to Hyunjin. Back to Yeji. Back to Hyunjin. This is obviously a joke. “Right, ha ha ha. So funny. You got your joke in, Jinnie. I’m sorry I teased you, okay?”

“He’s not joking” Yeji persists, petting your cheek to bring your focus back to her, “We’ve all thought about it. Don’t lie and say you haven’t.” You could say you haven’t but she’s right, it’d be a lie. One of the biggest lies you’d ever tell in your life. The fantasies you’ve had of being with them, separately and together, are filthy enough to make a porn star blush.

How they look at you, it’s like they know how often you’ve wondered what it’d be like to feel their lips…hands…bodies…on yours. It dawns on you that maybe they can read your mind too. Shit.

“So,” Hyunjin hums, moving in close enough to pin you between the two of them, “What’s it gonna be then?” 

So, what’s it gonna be then?

The kiss.

The tiniest nervous peck on the lips. One for each of them. But you kissed Hyunjin for a split second longer than you did Yeji, she swears it. So one more for her, this one much deeper than the last, her arm coming around your waist to caress the softness of your hips. But Yeji’s gotten too greedy, the excitement of finally having you right where she wants you making it hard to let you go.

So one more for Hyunjin who doesn’t let you catch your breath for more than a moment before he captures you in another kiss, his hands slipping beneath your thin tank top to delight in the fullness of your figure. Yeji plants kisses down your shoulder, pulling your shorts aside just enough to get a peek at the lace panties beneath.

She remembers when you bought those. You were out shopping together and you asked which pair you should get to wear for some guy you were dating at the time. What a waste, she’d thought, that an asshole like that got to have you. You feel her smile as her hands dip into your shorts. It’s her turn to have you now. 

“You want more, baby?” Hyunjin asks, breathlessly, running his thumb across the hardened bud that pokes through the material of your bra. “Mmm, yes. More” you whine, your entire body reacting to his touch. He grins at how sensitive you are, closing two fingers around the bud to pinch it until he’s swallowing your needy moans.

He hears them when you think you’re home alone, the low hum of your vibrator audible through your bedroom door. Standing in that hallway, his cock throbbing in his hand, precum pooling in his palm, all he wanted was to taste those moans as they left your lips. Now that he has, he’s positive he’ll get addicted. They’re far more delicious than he ever imagined.

“Open up for me” Yeji whispers, tickling your inner thigh, “Let me feel how wet you are for us.” You do exactly as you’re told, spreading your legs to grant her fingers access to the juices soaking their way through your panties. “Aww, baby, you’re such a mess” she coos, tucking your panties to the side to stroke your slit, “Jinnie, come here. You’ve gotta feel this.”

With one hand still toying with your nipple, he brings the other between your legs. Yeji drags hers upward, coating your clit in your own arousal as Hyunjin sinks a finger into your warmth. Your back arches, lust coursing through your veins, and any remnants of your former shyness falls away. Your mouth is at Yeji’s again, your tongues sloppily entangled in one another's.

It’s almost rhythmic, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as your hand ventures under her shirt to caress her breasts. Yeji hates bras, she thinks they’re an old world torture device, and her refusal to wear them has always made you happy. Especially now. They’re so plush and tender, fitting perfectly into your palms as if they were meant to be there.

You reach back to trace the outline of the bulge forming in Hyunjin’s sweatpants. He groans when you apply pressure, your fingers wrapping around as much of him as you can. You descend into a sea of moans, ravenously reaching for any part of each other you can. Clothing’s shed between kisses, between glossy eyed cries of ecstasy, until the three of you are completely naked, bodies intertwined.

Yeji lays back on the bed, her head nestled comfortably on your pillow, and watches Hyunjin play with you. He has you positioned on your knees facing her as he kneels behind you, one arm tucked beneath your tits and the other around your waist. He holds you close to his chest, fingering you at a merciless pace. “Jinnie, oh, fuck. So good” you moan, rocking your hips to feel him deeper.

Hyunjin leans into your ear, his breath tickling the tiny hairs on your neck. “Is it good, baby? Hmm? I make you feel good?” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard, his need for you bringing out an aggression that has you clenching even tighter than you already were. Yeji licks her lips, catching a glimpse of the way your juices glisten on Hyunjin’s fingers.

“Can I taste?” she asks, parting her legs to run her expensively manicured fingers through her folds. What’s between her thighs is nothing short of a work of art. She has the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen and it’s dripping all over your sheets. You’ll never wash them again. Hyunjin eases his fingers out of your core, raising them to your lips. You take them into your mouth, sucking them clean before leaning down to kiss Yeji.

“Mmm, such a tasty little cunt” she hums, her knuckles bumping your clit as she rubs her own. Snatching her by the wrist, you bring her fingers to your lips and run your tongue over them. She tastes amazing. Good enough to eat. “I’m not the only one who’s tasty” you smile, this new side of you making her blush.

Hyunjin grabs you by the hips, pulling you towards him so that your ass rests in his lap and your face hovers just above Yeji’s core. He slaps your ass one cheek at a time, far too in love with the way it jiggles. “Hyunjin!” you giggle, jumping a bit at the sting of his slaps, “Cut it out. I’m trying to eat here.” He aligns himself with your entrance, stretching you with his thick tip before stopping to watch you squirm.

Yeji snakes her fingers through your hair, her clit twitching in anticipation. You waste no time plunging your tongue into her, your face buried between her legs. She tastes even better this way, walls fluttering around your tongue. Hyunjin thrusts into you and your knees almost give out. “No, no, no. None of that” he scolds, slapping your ass harder this time, “Stay up for me so I can fuck you the way you deserve.”

Another thrust and you’re squealing into Yeji’s pussy. The vibrations are heavenly, heightening the feeling of your tongue flicking at her g spot. Your bodies sync together effortlessly. Every snap of Hyunjin’s hips. Every light suck of Yeji’s clit. Every tug of your hair and moan she sends flowing through the air. Everything builds into the next, taking the three of you beyond your limits.

“Look at me” Yeji mewls, cupping your cheeks to lift your face up. She wishes she could take a picture of you like this, kitten licking her slit with those bright beautiful eyes of yours fixed on her. “I-I…cum…gonna—” You purse your lips around her clit, circling it with the tip of your tongue while you suck it harder the closer she gets.

Hyunjin kisses up your back, pressing so deep into you that you begin to tremble. Your gaze remains locked on Yeji and hers on you. You see her body tense, a fleeting look of shock washing over her face before her body’s spasming. She rides your face, eyes rolling back as she floods your tongue with her cum.

No matter which direction she twists in you try to follow her but it’s hell when every ridge of Hyunjin’s cock is flush against your walls. He throws his head back, finding it difficult to wrap his mind around how good you feel. It’s almost too much. The fullness in your lower stomach grows the deeper he strokes and you just know you can’t hold out any longer. Yeji knows too, holding your hands as she floats down from her high. 

“Cum for us pretty girl.”

“Fuck, yes, let me feel you.”

The sound of their voices melded together is sexier than it has any right being. In an instant you lose control of your limbs, your eyes falling shut as you’re overwhelmbed with pleasure. Hyunjin pulls back a little, sliding you up and down to see how completely coated in you he is. Watching himself disappear into you, your cream decorating his cock, pushes him over the edge.

Just as the fullness inside of you begins to calm down, he’s pumping more than enough cum into you to bring it back twice as strong as before. But you couldn’t handle another orgasm if you wanted to. You’re ready to collapse. Hyunjin rubs your back, comforting your weakened form before his own body gives out on him. You roll over onto your backs, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief of what just happened.

What does this mean for your friendship? Will this change things between you? Or will you just wake up tomorrow and pretend it never happened? As your collective gasps for air quiet, a sense of peace falls across the room. Yeji scoots in closer to you, throwing a leg across your waist and Hyunjin snuggles up to your belly.

“You know…” Hyunjin mumbles, his eyes barely open, “You never actually chose.” Filing through the haze in your brain, you realize that he’s right.

“Uh, hmm, I’ll tell you a secret then I guess.”

“Oh, sweetie” Yeji sighs, playfully pinching your cheek, “I think we already know.”

[featherandferns]

daylight - eleven

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 11 of the daylight series | read part 10 here

content warnings: mentions of sex

word count: 1.8k.

blurb: reunited with your best friend from Canada, the two of you talk about Tyler and JJ, and you finally come to a decision.

“Mimsy?” 

When your best friend smiles at you, you wonder if you’re hallucinating. It’s only when she’s flying off the bed, squealing as she tackles you in a hug, that you’re sure she’s here. Here, in Kildare County, North Carolina, instead of Vancouver. As the shock subsides, your arms coil around her before squeezing like a python around prey. 

“Oh my God,” you mumble, nestling your face in her shoulder. She smells like home. Like childhood and make-believe. It makes your eyes water. “Mimsy.”

“Surprise, babes!” she sing-songs into your ear. 

Pulling back, you take her in. “How…When…How?”

“Darren, of course,” Mimsy replies with a cheeky grin. She parts from you and laps your bedroom leisurely, as if she’s as familiar with it as you. “I told him about your wacked out voicemail and he offered to buy me a plane ticket. All I had to do was let him put it up my butt.”

“Mimsy!” you screech. 

She turns to you, shrugging. “What? I wanted him to.”

Shaking your head, you begin to laugh. It’s easy to forget how much you miss someone until you have them back. Having Mimsy in your company again felt like how a child might when they rediscover their favourite teddy bear that had been missing for months. The Pogues had been great friends to you since moving to Kildare, but like a substituted cuddly toy, nobody had come close to matching Mimsy, let alone replacing her. Having her back felt like coming up for air after hours underwater. 

“So is Darren here too?” you ask. 

“Nah,” she says. “Left him in Vancouver.”

“Well, how long are you here for?”

“Just a week. I’m thinking that’ll be long enough to set you back on your path. Bestow some wisdom on you and all that,” Mimsy says. She makes her way back over to you. “I took your voicemail as an S.O.S type situation.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, ditching your bag. “I think I screwed things up pretty wonderfully.”

“Men are simple. He’ll come crawling back,” Mimsy assures, but you’re not so convinced.

Wandering over to your pinboard, your eyes land on JJ’s beaming face. “I don’t know,” you mumble. “I don’t think JJ’s like that.”

Mimsy hums thoughtfully. She joins you by your side, presumably following your gaze. “He’s cute.”

“I know,” you chuckle. 

“He a good kisser?” Shoving her shoulder jokingly, Mimsy lets out a laugh. “What!? I’m just asking the important questions here.”

Shaking your head, you head to your bedroom door. “Wanna go check out the area? It feels wrong wasting a good day cooped up in here.”

“Sure thing,” Mimsy easily agrees.

She follows you down the stairs and into your car, and chatters the entire drive to the harbour about all the gossip and drama you’d missed in Vancouver. It felt like a series recap that came at the start of ‘a very special’ episode. It also worked well as a distraction from thoughts about JJ. That boy had crossed through your mind so much recently, you wondered whether your brainwaves might be permanently altered. 

Your tour of Kildare starts with Heywards and the Wreck before venturing towards the stretches of beach. Once Mimsy has gawked at the surfer bros for about fifteen minutes, you manage to drag her to the marsh-land area. Point out some fishing spots that JJ had introduced you to. Provide vague directions to the Pogue’s houses. After a brief lap of Figure Eight, the two of you swing by a taco bell before pulling into a look over. 

“So,” Mimsy says as she chews a churro. “What the fuck happened?”

“With JJ?” you check. She nods. Your eyes drift over to the view. Green-leaved trees form rivers, and concrete roads and housing estates become the stones of the estuary that was Kildare County. “We got in this dumb fight when I was at his to watch a movie. After that incident a while back, I still haven’t let him go down on me or anything, and he got all confrontational about it. Took it personal and stuff and…I bolted.”

“The incident being the thing about your hoo-ha?” Mimsy checks. You visibly cringe. 

“Please, do not call it that,” you mumble. 

“If you get to wear a shirt about fishing, I get to call your vaj whatever I so please,” Mimsy shrugs. She offers you a churro after as if she didn’t just say the most heinous thing you’ve ever had uttered in your car. You accept. “But is it?”

“Mhm. I’m just scared that it’ll happen again,” you say. “It was embarrassing.”

“For like a minute,” Mimsy says. “But didn’t you say JJ was really chill with it.”

“The first time, yeah. But what if it’s a recurring thing? He’s gonna start thinking it’s because of him,” you explain, calming your worry with a chocolate-drenched doughnut stick. 

“And you’re sure it isn’t?”

“No!”

“Alright!”

Sighing, you shake your head. “Sorry. I’m just…I think it’s Tyler.”

“This again?” Mimsy's tone isn’t angry; it's more concerned. “Babes, when are you going to let that whole thing be in the past?”

“I think I’m starting to,” you assure. “Maybe I didn’t deal with it when it actually happened but I had this conversation the other day and sort of...ended up burning all of his old stuff.”

Mimsy quirks a brow, squinting with just the one eye. “Bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Shut up. It helped,” you reply, smiling smally. It fades away like the setting sun. “I think the whole thing has just made me nervous.”

“In what way, babes? Like you can’t trust another guy again?” Mimsy wonders. 

You chew the inside of your cheek in thought, brows furrowing, and something dawns upon you.

“I don’t think it’s that I don’t trust others. I think it’s more that I don’t trust myself. I mean, I stayed around with Tyler for so long, even when I knew I shouldn’t. Even when everyone was telling me it was bad news. That it wasn’t normal to feel the way I was feeling in a relationship. I just let him bleed me dry, and went to all that effort to try and win his attention and his affection, just for it to all mean nothing. I don’t know,” you sigh, breaking away from your rant. “I guess I just don’t trust my judgement anymore. JJ’s fine now but so was Tyler, when I first met him.”

“Okay, not true,” Mimsy quickly disagrees. Your head darts up from your twiddling fingers. “Tyler was a prick from the start, you just didn’t want to see it.”

“As delicate as a sledgehammer, Mimsy,” you mutter. 

“Second,” she continues. “From the things you’ve told me about JJ: he’s nothing like Tyler.”

That was true. With Tyler, you begged to receive compliments and even then, they were few and far between. But JJ was generous with them. Casually commented on your outfits, or your photos, or yourself. Tyler seemingly needed alcohol to remember that you existed whereas JJ came to you sober, drunk or high. Whilst your ex teased you for your fears and hopes, JJ listened and understood. Knew just how far to push the line of joking without becoming mean. 

“Can I tell you a story?” Mimsy asks. It brings you from your mental comparison. Crossing your legs in your seat and pinching another churro, you nod. 

“Sure.”

“Okay, well, it’s not exactly a story but I think it applies to this situation,” Mimsy self-corrects. “You know that show BoJack that I watch?”

“Yeah?” you wonder, unsure as to where she might be going. 

“There’s this character, Wanda, who dates BoJack for a while. At first things are perfect. Sunshine, rainbows, that whole pile of crap. But after a while, his true colours show and she can’t keep moulding him into the guy she can see he could be. Eventually it all falls apart and she says something that I think encapsulates you with Tyler beautifully. She says, ‘it’s funny: when you look at someone through rose-coloured glasses, all the red flags, just look like flags’.”

The two of you sit in the quote for a moment, eyes locked. Mimsy starts to smile, sympathetic and sweet. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna make the same mistake you did with Tyler ‘cause he ripped those glasses right off you. I think you’ve learnt your lesson once and once was enough.”

Pursing your lips, you try to keep the brimming emotions at bay. It feels like lately all it takes is a pin to prick you and you begin to cry. 

“I think it’s hard 'cause I never got the closure that I wanted. Tyler never explained why or helped leave things amicable. Or apologise, even.: not properly”

Mimsy scoffs almost sadly. “Would you have even wanted him to, though? He was a fucking pro at saying sorry.”

“Mm, that’s true,” you muse. “Maybe it would have made me feel good for a minute, in the moment, but after…”

“Yeah,” Mimsy quietly agrees, somehow hearing your unspoken words. She picks out another churro whilst you pick yours apart. “I don’t think closure’s a real thing, though. Sometimes it is, sure, if you’re really lucky, but most things aren’t like the movies. You don’t get this picture-perfect coffee-date to clear the air and stuff. Most of the time, people just leave. Like my dad. I don’t even remember what the last thing I ever said to him was, and then he was gone for good. I guess not having closure at all is sometimes closure enough, if that makes sense.”

Her words make you take pause. Half-amused, half-smiling, you take in your wonderful best friend. “When the fuck did you get so wise?”

“Oh, after you left,” Mimsy jokingly replies. “I had to read some self-help books to get me through it.”

Snorting, you toss a piece of churro at her. Her advice melts into that of Barry’s, and the cathartic bonfire from the other night serves as a catalyst for your decision making. Maybe everybody’s right. Maybe it’s time for you to remember that all people are different people, and one man’s careless actions don’t emulate anothers. JJ can’t read your mind. He can’t understand the layers of emotion and history behind one small action, and he can’t decipher what you want through your wordless actions. You need to talk to him. You’ve kept your cards close to your chest for long enough. 

“Alright, enough about me,” you say, popping a piece of churro into your mouth. Your grin brightens up the car, lightening the mood. “Tell me about Darren.”

“Oh, baby, I thought you’d never ask,” Mimsy giggles, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So it all started at this house party…”

And just like that, you listen happily to Mimsy's rambling and allow yourself to enjoy life that tiny bit more once again, with a bookmarked thought to talk to JJ sooner rather than later.

read part twelve here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200 | @maybankskiss | @lillell467 | @belle101200 | @charchartumb-lr | @bootyjiggler | @dreamingofyeo | please tell me if any tags aren't working - I've never done taglists before!

[sweet-as-an-angel]

cuddling with könig hcs?? maybe he’s super exhausted and just wants to be held by reader and be in their presence 🥺

Modern Warfare 2 Cuddling Headcanons

Warnings: No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, Just a whole lot of fluff ☹️ <3, Mild Hurt/Comfort, CUDDLING !1!!1, Snuggling, Extremely Vague Implications of Ghost’s Past, Minor Mentions of Death, Vague Implications of Smut, Mention of a Boner (Brief), Nothing Explicit in this Post.

Ghost

He’s very secretive when letting you know he wants to be held.

It’s as if he’s ashamed to admit it, to you, to himself – as if the habits he’d picked up as a child, to hide his intentions, his feelings, had followed him into adulthood.

They had, make no mistake. But the fact that they followed him into his relationship with you made things… difficult at times.

Nevertheless, when he sidled up behind you, his body heavy, shoulders slumped and arms encompassing your form, you read him like a cave drawing: plain to see, easier to interpret.

You’d swaddle him in your arms, your duvets, your love, and in turn he’d cage you with his limbs, his body, his strength.

In a way, he was your coffin; your final resting place in life and the hereafter, and he let you know as much with the cushioning of his muscles beneath his shirt, the silken padding of your bed of eternal rest.

You’re not going anywhere is what he said, all without saying it.

And you affirmed as much when you pressed the tip of your nose to the pulsepoint below his jaw, gifting a kiss to the skin beneath it.

“I’ll always be with you, Simon; for infinity plus one,” you’d tell him, over and over, as many times as he wanted – needed – to hear it.

Simon would look down at you, his eyes dark and filled with nothing but the need for you.

He’d pull you into his chest, where you’d hear his heart pounding, hammering, the scaffolding of his love, constantly growing, advancing. Heightening.

“I know, Angel,” he says, laying circles into your back. “And I’ll always be here to protect you. Just as you have me.” He takes a deep breath, filling himself with your scent. “For infinity plus two.”

König

Oh, THIS–

Absolute behemoth of a man is babey for cuddles.

Fr though, he’ll just be so mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted that the only thing that can heal him is your loving touch.

He’ll literally stand half-hidden behind the doorway like that buff teddy bear meme, looking at you with wide, pleading eyes with his hands like 👉👈.

Poor guy looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

He’s not, don’t worry! That’s just the fatigue catching up with him.

And whenever he gives you those eyes, you just can’t say no.

You bring him to bed and wrap him up in your softest, warmest blankets.

You have found König wrapped up in your clothes, your towels, your curtains many times before. And, after he caught you catching him, he admitted that he did it because they smelled like you.

From then on, you have a special, secret blanket just for König which you douse in your signature scent once every few weeks or so, keeping it hidden in a cupboard where it can’t be found by any other smell or person.

And you drape it over König, making sure he’s safe and snuggled and secure before you cuddle up to him, consumed by a mass of blankets and, of course, your boyfriend.

And he just rests there, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you so close to him that you could very well be the same person.

He’s massive, he’s radiating heat constantly, encompassing you in himself.

He tries burying you inside him, it seems, keeping you so close to him as though he knew something – knew he was going to lose you somehow.

And all the while, you’re threading your fingers through his hair, petting it, stroking it, telling him how loved he is, how you’ll always be here for him, and how lucky you are to have him. Calling him your “Big boy. My big, sweet boy,”

His chest purrs, his grip around you tightens, braiding your souls together with the golden hair of a wedding band.

And, his face buried in your hair, taking in the lifeline that is your scent, König whispers, to you, and to no-one else:

“Not as fortunate as I, my Love.”

Alejandro

Unlike Ghost and König, Alejandro tells you when he wants cuddles.

Unless he’s feeling particularly raw or traumatised, what with his profession and all, in which case he’ll put his hand atop yours and squeeze it, tightly, while facing ahead, not looking at you.

Those requests for cuddles are few and far between, but they usually lead to an evening spent entirely in Alejandro’s arms as he slowly, tricklingly, reveals what has damaged him so.

And you listen, and listen, and listen, one hand carding through his hair, the other holding his shaking shoulders, soothing him with your massages.

His head always rests on your chest, and, occasionally, he’ll bear his face into your shirt, pressing his confessions into the fabric.

“Oh, Darling,” you tell him, every time. “You do everything you can, you save lives every day – including mine.”

He pulls away, looks up into your eyes with dark glass irises and, every time, cups your cheek with his hand.

“And I always will, mi Amor,” he tells you. His kiss lands on your lips, and another confession slips out as he pulls away, his forehead resting against your chin.

“No matter the cost, no matter the toll, I will always find you. I will always save you, just as you saved me.”

Soap

Snuggles with Johnny usually end up culminating in…something else.

His sunny disposition, even after a heavy mission away, belies that which haunts him – that which he tries to suppress.

On the rare occasion that he’s not in high spirits, he’ll be very quiet, hardly talking at all as he merely exists around you, his warmth and humour devoid from his body.

And you seek him out, placing your head upon his shoulder and asking, in the slightest of voices: “Do you need me?”

He does.

He needs you more than anything else – anyone else.

You drape him with your body, slipping your arms around his shoulders and pulling his face into the crook of your neck. His breath, his stubble, tickles your skin.

You latch onto him, tumourous in your resolve yet anything but malignant in your aim.

You want to bury your love in his veins, let him feel how he makes you feel, and become that for him.

He always sighs into your shoulder, your neck, and takes a second before he’ll encapsulate you in his arms, keeping you in his lap and tethering you to him by the bottom of your back.

You chant your reassurances, whispering them into his ear – a sleeper agent’s trigger words; a message to bring forth the soldier from within.

“You did so well, Johnny,” you tell him, meaning every word. “There’s no sum of money in all the universe that can compensate for all that you’ve done.”

You feel Johnny twitch, a precursor to something familiar to you. You hold him tighter, pull him closer. He stuffs his face further into the material of your shirt.

“But…” The word is a dagger between the folds of your heart. You can only imagine how it feels lodged in Johnny’s mind. A lifelong migraine.

“But what if I’d gotten there sooner?” His voice cracks. You feel his shoulders shake. You try to stabilise him, to keep him from quivering by encompassing more of his broad frame.

“You couldn’t have known, John-John; I promise you that.”

Your word was gospel in this house; whatever you said, Johnny believed.

“And even if by some sort of miracle you had gotten there earlier,” you pull back, Johnny reluctantly following in your example, and take his face in your hands. You wipe a tear away with your thumb.

“You probably wouldn’t have been able to return.”

The prospect made your heart jump up into your throat, much as you could see it stir something in Johnny.

He nestles further into you.

“And what would I do without my favourite soldier?”

You feel Johnny sigh, his body untensing, sinking into yours.

“The real question is what would I do without you?” His voice is gruff, easing off into what you recognise as exhaustion.

You rubbed his back, pressed a kiss to the crook of his neck.

“We’ll never know,” you told him, smiling. You feel his cheek shift against your skin and you knew he was smiling, too.

“Let’s get you to bed. You deserve a rest.”

“Oh?” says Johnny. “Is that all?”

“Oh, behave,” you give him a chuckle, a light pat - a lacklustre attempt at a smack.

Like I said, cuddles with Johnny usually end up as something more.

Price

Absolute bear of a man in both disposition and habit.

Practically holds you hostage when you cuddle with how he has a log of a leg hooked over your waist, his arms pulling you so close to his chest that you may well be the shirt he’s wearing.

Loves whispering in your ear when you’re like this – tells you how much he loves you, how you make everything feel okay when he comes home from a mission; all the wonderful things he thinks of you, he tells you.

He knows life’s far too short to let certain things go unsaid, and his undying love for you is one of them.

Whenever he’s feeling exhausted or just done with it all, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms across your front from behind, pressing a long, humming kiss to the back of your head.

“I need you, Love,” he’ll say, voice laced with the primal need to just rest. And he can’t do that if you’re not with him.

He has a sensitive scalp, which is why he always wears the hat when he’s on missions. When he’s alone with you, however, he bids you a silent request to touch him, feel him, care for him.

And you do; you rest his head upon your chest and slip silken fingers between his short strands, making sure to drag your nails up the nape of his neck and send shivers through him.

He adores falling asleep on you like this, though he will apologise for it after, knowing how much heavier he is than you.

But you never complain, only indulge him as he subjects himself to this heaven-sent cycle again and again.

He calls you his “angel”, his “master’s masterpiece.” (nice Duchess of Malfi reference for my fellow literature enjoyers)

And he truly believes it – that you are the work of some higher being, too perfect for the likes of this world, of him.

You always tell him how lucky you are to have found him, half jestful as you reassure him how “Eternal life would simply be survival, not living, if it is without you, my Love.”

Gaz

Has to be facing you whenever you cuddle.

This is not up for negotiation.

Will stare into your eyes like 🥺 whenever you’re snuggling.

He LOVES holding your hands; he brings them to his chest and presses the flat of your palms to his skin.

And when you hear his heart beating, he gives a shy smile and says: “This heart beats only for you.”

“So…what you’re saying is that you’re dead all the time except for when you’re with me?”

“...That’s… a little less romantic than my ‘I’m only alive when I’m with you’ line, but yeah, you’re right.”

Initiates cuddles 99.99% of the time, only because he won’t let you have the chance to initiate them first.

Beats you to it every single time.

Most of the time when he initiates, he’s rather playful and just wants to feel you near him and tell you what he did today :-).

But sometimes, very occasionally, he’ll come to you, a wounded puppy of a man, with a story.

It is one with no happy ending, only a wish for reprievement.

Whenever and wherever Gaz needs you, you’re there, soaking up his anxieties as your own and trying to find a solution.

You usually just let him talk until he’s tired himself out or there’s nothing left to say, upon which you offer yourself and every conceivable way you could be of service.

You try to heal him however you can, bringing him food, making sure he rests, talking him through his feeling whenever he wants.

“I don’t know how you do it, Love,” he tells you, head lolling against the backrest of the sofa. “I don’t know how you’re always so calm, so collected,”

You offer him a smile and a plate of warm, freshly-baked biscuits.

“Time and practice, my Dear,” you tell him.

He feels bad for putting on you, but you always chase his worries away, reassuring him that the day you stop listening to him is the day you’ve been replaced with a robot.

When you cuddle and he’s feeling vulnerable, he’ll tuck his head into your chest, and you wrap him up in a blanket, blocking out the light – any form of external stimulation – to help him calm down or drift off to sleep.

He genuinely doesn’t know what he’d do without you.

And he tells you as much when he wakes up in your arms.

He presses butterfly kisses to your jaw until your eyes flutter open like wings.

He doesn’t even say ‘good morning’; he wastes no time when it comes to you.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he says. He squeezes you. “I don’t want to be without you – not like I used to be,”

And you smile at him, like you always do, and lean in, planting a kiss between his eyes, the top of the bridge of his nose.

“Neither do I, Love,” you say. “And you never will be.”

Valeria

Always the big spoon.

Regardless of how she’s feeling, how tall you are, what time of the day it is, she is always going to be the one administering the cuddles.

She uses you as something of a stress ball when she’s feeling antsy, anxious, or even fearful.

It’s extremely rare for her to verbalise her feelings - particularly the negative ones, the ones she perceives as ‘weakness’.

But she has placed all her trust in you; something people have died trying to take and protect.

Whenever she’s stressed, you can feel it in how rigid her shoulders are, how tightly she wraps herself around you, how her heart pounds against your back.

You never draw attention to it – you know how sensitive Valeria gets about her feelings, trying to hide them constantly, so you just hold her hands in yours, against your chest, drawing circles against her knuckles and her veins, writing a love story.

“I’ll never let you go, you know,” Valeria says, often enough that it is no longer a cause for concern for you, rather a future upon which you rely, look forward to. And you smile, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand so she can feel it. Her heart stutters.

“I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.”

And she means it.

You know – you can tell in the way she pulls you ever closer, tightly packed together as if confined to the same coffin.

You know her – her lifestyle – will be your downfall, one way or another.

Whether you or she dies first is a mystery, but regardless of the outcome, you know Valeria would sacrifice everything of herself to keep it from becoming so.

You try to turn, but Valeria keeps you facing away.

A moment’s confusion passes, chased away by realisation as you feel Valeria shaking against you, something wet and warm dripping onto the back of your neck.

You cast your eyes down and, gently, bring Valeria’s knuckles back to your lips.

“And what about me?” you say. “What if I leave you? Will you kill me?”

Something crosses Valeria’s eyes, dancing behind them. A relative of hurt, a friend of doubt, a parent of fear.

She turns you onto your back and, bringing a hand to your cheek and cupping it, presses her lips to yours.

It is soft and minimal, lasting a fraction of what it wanted to.

Valeria withdraws, pressing her forehead to yours, her eyes piercing.

“Never.” She says.

And she means it.

Rodolfo

Hold him tight P L E A S E–

He lives for your embrace, and anything you offer him will remain Flex Taped to the back of his mind for the rest of his life.

Especially if you’re consoling him.

Man just wants to feel safe and warm and loved.

His absolute favourite position is when you’re wrapped in each other’s arms, heads upon the other’s shoulder, snuggled so impossibly close that Rodolfo’s blood is practically running through your veins.

Call him your “Sweet lil’ guy” and he’s g o n e.

Melts into your touch and inhales your scent; oxygen to the lungs of a man starved of reprieve.

It’s at times like these when he’s at his most sincere.

Will tell you anything and everything that crosses his mind; his hopes, his dreams, his fears.

And you’re always there to chase away his anxieties and nurture his desire to achieve all that he wants to achieve.

Sometimes, when he pulls away, there are tears in his eyes, glistening.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, mi Vida,” he whispers, as if he’s afraid that the Universe will hear him and take you from him.

You can only smile, feeling the urge to cry choke your throat.

“And you’ll never need to know,” you tell him. “There will never be a day where I won’t be with you–” you kiss the tears running down his cheeks, “whether my body persists in this realm or not.”

Graves

UUUUUUGH

Horny to the MAX

You could be having the most wholesome conversation in the world and Phil will just hit you with the bedroom eyes and a boner and you’ll just look at him like 😑.

Whether or not you oblige him is up to you, but he’ll likely pester you (politely) until you do.

Aside from that, however, Graves doesn’t seem the type to know how to cuddle properly.

You see, there’s an art to the cuddle - it is a craft.

And Graves has only ever had brief encounters with people under the cover of night; flings, one night stands – so he’s never had the pleasure of getting to know someone enough to cuddle them.

So that makes you his first 😃 !!!

Since you have his cuddle virginity in your hands, you’re going to have to ease him into it.

He’ll definitely whine at first – keep saying stuff like “It’s too hot,” or “I’m booored,” but eventually, you’ll find a position for him which he seems to like.

Loves being the little spoon. No argument.

Given how he’s a CEO and has a pretty hectic job, he enjoys a change in position and likes giving you the power (though he’d never frame it as that; he’d just say that he’s being your pillow so you can lean against something as you rest; ever the gentleman he is).

His favourite position is you behind him, your leg wrapped around his waist, keeping him pinned to the bed.

Pleeeease scratch his back for him, he’s really ticklish there and has never been touched so softly before.

If you whisper phrases of affirmation or praise into his ear, he’s dead.

Done for.

Not coming back.

He swears he falls deeper in love with you every time you hold him close.

He’s kind of a switch, so he’s definitely up for being the big spoon on occasion – especially if you’re feeling vulnerable or you want to be protected.

When he thinks you’re asleep, he leans in close to your ear and says something he’s never said to anyone before.

“I love you.”

Unbeknownst to him, you’re awake, trying to contain the excitement bursting from your chest as you resist the urge to turn around and lock him in your embrace, if only to spare him the embarrassment of one of the few times he expresses his emotions being sullied by you breaking his nose with yours as you launch at him for a kiss.

In another cuddle session, maybe a day or two later, you whisper to him: “I love you, too.”

He’ll be mortified, and you may or may not be able to see his face shift from that of a cosy cat to a tiger who’s just inhaled a lemon. Frightened and unsuspecting.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[lickuiddd]

The Lost Boys Valentine's Day Headcanons:

Cw: brief mention of sex

A/N- Happy Valentines Day! also, first post on this blog

David:

All of the boys are romantic in their own ways, but David’s definitely the closest to a classic type of lover. Expect red roses, a gift that he got, and a romantic dinner date to end the evening. 

If you decide to get something for him, he’s going to love it. Even if his reaction is simple or small, just know that it means a lot to him, especially if it’s something he can wear or carry with him; he has it on him all the time. 

He may not usually be the most openly affectionate, but on an occasion like this, he’s making sure you feel loved by him; you're one of the most important people in his life as his partner. If he’s going to go all out, he’s going to do it right. 

Given he seems like the type to enjoy more intimate moments away from an overly public atmosphere, the date and your time with him are more secluded and one-on-one. He’s got a special spot picked out for the evening, and it’s only the best, of course. 

If you're not already a vampire at this point, then expect at least an attempt from David to try and turn you, because what better opportunity would he have to do that than Valentine’s Day? 

Dwayne:

If any of the boys are giving you a perfect Valentine’s Day, it’s Dwayne.

He’s already a very considerate partner, but on a day like this, he’s going to try his very best to be perfect. 

He’s thoughtful with his gift, and by how observant he is, his gift to you is something you’ve been wanting for a long time. Dwaynes is the type where, even if you’ve only mentioned it once or twice, or if it was something you’ve shown him during a previous time together, he’ll still remember and make sure to get exactly what you showed him.

He would have a perfect date planned and would have something on the more casual side set up, like a movie date and dinner.

Despite making plans, he’d also want to make sure that you get to decide some of the things you do together, and in the end, he's just happy to spend time with you and see you smile. 

Anything you buy or make for him will put a smile on his face, and he’ll deeply appreciate it. 

He’ll be telling you how much he loves you, and it’d be like the first time he did it all over again. 

Paul: 

If you're not already smothered by Paul’s love on a normal day, expect it to be amplified by almost triple on Valentine’s Day. 

From the moment you wake up, Paul is giving you anything and everything he has and could have possibly gotten you for Valentine’s Day. Expect teddy bears, chocolate, roses—you name it, he’s bought it. He’d pick you flowers he found on one of his bike rides or find trinkets he’d think you’d like too, as well as other small gifts. 

Whatever you decide to give to him, he’s going to love, and he’ll definitely show it. He’ll show off whatever you got for him to the other boys too and brag for a long time. 

He’s definitely taking you on a date to the boardwalk to get food, play games, and go on rides together. He’s the type to want to share one milkshake with two straws or ride a Ferris wheel just to make out for most of the ride. 

Despite all the gifts and cute dates, it’s Paul, and what would the literal day of love be without sex? Of course he would love doing all the other things, even if you didn’t want to have it, but if you let him, he’ll have you under him all night. To say the least, by the morning, you're going to have sore muscles and bruised skin from where he’s left his mark on you.

Marko: 

Valentine’s Day is definitely one of Marko's favourite holidays to celebrate, especially with you. He’s a romantic guy, and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to show you his love. 

The date he’s planned would include going for a ride on his bike along the beach, later grabbing food and just being able to walk under the moonlight while hanging out together, laughing and smiling.

Marko would get you something like chocolates and cute cards, but he would also try to make you a gift. I mean, look at his jacket; he’s a craftsy guy. He would put a lot of effort into the project, even if it ended up not turning out like he wanted it to, but it’s the thought that counts, at least. 

He’d adore any gift you give him, but time with you is just as valuable to him.

Similarly to Paul, sex is something on his mind, and given the chance, he’d go down on you all night if you let him. 

Out of the four, like any holiday, he does it the best.

[fauustic]

don't cry, my treasure.

soft miguel o'hara x gender-neutral reader drabble

had to write this and get it out of my brain before i post my miguel series..

summary: you accidentally stir miguel awake while you're dealing with insomnia, he decides to take care of you. fluff. comfort.

warnings: brief mentions of previous injuries (fighting crime is serious business!!), just miguel being a silly little thing.. i love sleepy miguel sm.

words: 3k

Sleep came in waves, pushing against the lid of your eyes and taking you away in its current just to spit you back out into reality.

You were always tired, you've realized as you stretched your aching bones and rubbed your swollen cheek– spider suit catching your eye as it was thrown haphazardly on your bedside chair like an afterthought. 

And nightmares, nightmares kept you up like a stalker always two steps behind– waiting, preying on your frazzled mind like a parasite constantly leeching off your sanity. So here you were, grasping at the sleeveless sleep-shirt as it clamped onto your sweat-sleek stomach like a second skin.

Shallow breaths escaped from your trembling lips like you were just dumped into a pool of ice-cold water, spider senses lit aflame with the abrupt, irrational fear stabbed through your heart.

You tried to stay quiet, you didn't want to be any more of a burden when you knew how much your lover struggled through insomniac nights as well– he had just gotten back from countless hours stove away in his dim and dark lab after a few days of power naps and caffeine. Miguel was downright exhausted, snores meeting your ears whenever you'd wake up from a dark turn in the dreams you do have.

But this time was different, as you shied away from his back that you were latched onto like a koala. Your skin peeled off his, and if you were with anyone else you would have thought it was gross. But Miguel loves closeness, the affection you just can't help but give and he takes and takes like a starved man. His muscles on his shoulders rolled and neck cracked as Miguel stirred, a breathy little groan hissing past the fangs he unknowingly had on full display when he shifted on his back– scarlet gaze screwed shut as his hands reached towards your usual spot on your shared bed. The pads of his fingers melted into your hip, little claws kissing the unveiled flesh from the lack of control he had over himself from still ebbing away the sleep hazing his mind.

Your name rolled off his tongue like a blessing, raspy and a bit puzzled; "Everythin' alright?" Miguel slurred, face barely leaving the pillow as his tied-back hair came askew; the little tendrils, that usually would never see the lines on his forehead, brushing against his eyebrow and curling ever so slightly. Call you love-struck, but you swear the curl shaped a little heart. "Miss you so close already," he huffed into the domestic atmosphere, thumb swirling imaginary shapes into the canvas of your skin.

With every month passing by, the intimacy came easier; Miguel's thoughts came and went in the bubble of security you brought him. The clinginess you never would have expected from the man who has the Spider Society at his beck and call rivalled the mimicry of a grizzly bear secretly being a very soft teddy bear. And with you, he was nothing less than a man who acted as if every drop of love you had for him was his last.

It took a long time for him to open up his heart for you to create space for yourself, but as you leaned back into his space to cup your palm into the angle of his jaw– everything felt worth it. Like you belonged here.

"Bad dream." Was all you said, kissing the ridge of his nose like Miguel was the most fragile thing in the world. And he practically became putty in your hands, eyes fluttering open accompanying a subtle frown. Drool pooled at the corner of his mouth, sharp canine peeking through the plush of his lips. Though he looked like he had just woken from hibernation, his features glazed with gentle understanding.

"That's no good," He murmured into your touch like a prayer, sitting up until the duvet pooled in his lap. Miguel hogged most of the bed unintentionally with his almost seven-foot self, the height that had many opposed to him on their knees in angst, but when he sat up and leaned towards your form like a magnet– Miguel was nothing more than a man who worshipped you. "Déjame cuidarte, ¿de acuerdo? (Let me take care of you, okay?)"

Before you even had the mind to protest, he pulled forward until his lips met the damp hair curled against the back of your neck. "Migs, you need rest–" you began but to no avail, he was already adjusting his boxers and shuffling towards your bathroom with a slumped posture. It had your stomach churn with butterflies even after all these months, the sweetness he's learned all over again despite the trauma he's endured leaking into your daily life and becoming something you absolutely adored about him.

Silence enveloped the apartment amidst the sleepy fumbling from within the washroom, flashes of vibrancy peering into the curtains you had against the windows that took up the wall closest to the busiest flow of air traffic. A memory was brought to mind as you peeked through the fabric, met with the city of stars and man-made comets passing by the skyscraper your home is within.

Funnily enough, you had wanted to live in the underground district of Nueva York, finding yourself more enraptured by the architecture that hid machinery and structures that kept the top afloat. But that was before you met Miguel and was thrown into the ring of being a part of the Spider Society– so you just made Miguel come along with your weekly trips to the landmarks hidden away.

"C'mere, muñeco." The fallen angel on your mind interrupted the delicate quiet of your home, calling through the cracked door after a moment of the water running, warmth seeping into the bedroom and tickling the flesh peeking out from your loose-sleepwear. 

When you pushed through the threshold and granted with the presence of Miguel bent over the tub and testing the temperature of the water mumbling to himself, you were already in the process of ripping off your shirt– but you couldn't help but stutter to a halt in a flustered mess when he turned his attention to you– glasses framing his sleepy eyes like a weapon within itself. Breath hitched and sweat coating your palms in lovesick anxiety, you fumbled into the dim light of the washroom.

Clumsily, you bumped your hip into the counter as your shirt finally came off, an uncharacteristic yelp coming from you and surely you expected to meet the cold tile floor until a pair of hands settled on the curves of your hips– claws indenting on the skin barely above his boxers holding into your figure for dear life. 

"Easy now, mi sirenita." Miguel practically cooed into your ear, kissing the shell of it before trailing down the column of your neck– nibbling into the blemished canvas of your clavicle. A faint bite mark etched your skin like oil paint, muddied with purple and red hues. Just as it was fading away, Miguel's lips grazed the dent with admiration before settling his blunt canines into the desired point and biting down. You gasped breathily, heat pooling your cheeks and your knees threatening to give out.

The unspoken desire of his want to care for you was written in your hips when Miguel caressed into where you had hurt yourself from your clumsiness, yet his lack of self restraint was symbolized through the bite just below your neck– very rarely absent without the pierce-marks of fangs. But he wanted to be delicate with you tonight, treat you as one of his most prized possessions when he truly just loved you a little too much. 

Pushing him away with the palm of your hand on his chest, a gentle scold resting on your tired expression like an empty threat. "Ew, Migs. That's too cheesy." You whined, allowing him to slip the briefs from your body before taking your hand in his and leading you to the tub. You sunk down into the sudsy, bubbling water with a splash that had him sighly fondly. Drips of bubbles coated his frames and before he had the chance to wipe them off, your hands wrapped around his neck just to tug him closer to the edge of the tub.

Miguel furrowed his brows at your antics as you kissed his cheek, his hands finding purchase on the edge so he didn't take the risk of slipping into the bubbly water. The thought makes you giggle as his fingers cup the angle of your jaw, calculated and a bit sorrowful. Miguel hated seeing you hurt, so knowing that your miscalculations in a mission with him had a right hook land on your 'good side,' he felt as if he had failed you. Didn't change the fact he pummelled the pesky little anomaly in your honor – but you didn’t miss the misty eyes he held so sadly for you as he patched up your bleeding nose. 

And here he was, kissing the corner of your lips with so much delicacy that you could almost cry.

A faint whimper left his lips as they grazed the sudden wetness dripping down your cheeks, the sleepy look in his eye blanketed with haste concern as he checked your body for any other sores inflicted from the bad feud– and as Miguel’s kisses were met with bubbles and blemished skin, he whispered against your flesh like a saint worshipping their holiness. “No llores, tesoro, por favor no llores.. (Don’t cry, treasure, please don’t cry) Hate seeing that look on your face, can’t stand it.” He breathed into your neck, any care about getting wet was out the window of your apartment when a strangled choke erupted from your throat like a hiccup.

“Just missed you,” You admitted as you shifted into the water that submerged your legs, leaning into his warmth as close as you could. A sniffle had Miguel folding into your damp hair, his own tied-back curls kissing your forehead.

Miguel shuddered, the stoicism he was able to keep up in your presence throughout the daylight behind black sunglasses and a subtle pout in the rare moments where he leaves his lab crumbled the moment he heard you express your craving for him. “I.. missed you too. Shock, I missed you too–” Miguel breathed into your lips, his face angled towards you in a way that ruined everyone else for you. His lashes drooped addictively as you let out a stifled giggle at his lingo he’s never been able to shake. 

“Come join me,” you murmur as you escape his space and instead sink lower into the bathtub. You swear he practically whined, his fang peeking just slightly into your view as Miguel’s face scrunched into displeasure. His bottom lip rolled against the pointy canine, something he was always a bit self-conscious of– but with you it was like he never needed to think that he was anything different.

“You know last time– I could barely even fit in the damn thing,” He complained yet he still stripped off his loose sweatpants nonetheless, shameless as his free hand, middle finger specifically, pushed his frames up with a steadiness that proved alone he was the leader of such a "pretentious" society. Had you mentioned the thought aloud, Miguel's signature frown and deadpan stare would have replaced that sweet look in his eye in an instant. So you just smiled and opened your arms in a warm welcome.

Miguel grunted in response, faux annoyance coating his tone when you could depict the subtle curl of his lips– he was always more than content with himself whenever he was able to get as close to you as possible. You scooted forward to allow some kind of space for him, and soon enough his chest was used as a pillow for the back of your head and your hims were encompassed by his legs, feet dangling from the tub because he was right; Miguel’s stature was never fit any anything deemed for the average person. And Miguel was anything but normal, and he hated himself for that.

You could hear the mumbles of curses that slipped from his tongue when he slipped further into the bubbly water, shoulders hunched and arms resting on the cusp of the tub. It was a tight fit, your back nestled into the heat of his abdomen as his chin rested on the top of your head– and by the way Miguel shifted and oozed with insecurity you could tell your wishes he so easily obliged was backfiring from his poisoned trauma. From the mirror in the washroom, you could see the scrunch of his nose as he laid his glasses aside, atop the lid of the toilet just beside where you two sat intertwined.

Reaching back, you found his hands and clutched onto them as if he was a fading star, gentleness contrasting the explosion rumbling in his throat as his thoughts laced with venom swarmed his very being. It reminded you of the first glances you got of him when you first was recruited to the society, a downcast stare always miles underneath the horizon and a frown that never left his face. But as your fingers found comfort within his bruised knuckles, washing away the tainted sin the moment you brought the bruises to your lips and left fluttering touches– Miguel melted into your bared soul like a stray desperate for love and affection.

To you, you were his food. He feasted on what you gave, that warm feeling that curled into his ribcage and soothed his aching heart and whatever else is rotted in that dark imprisonment. Miguel took and took and took, nestled into your physicality as you ceaselessly gave and gave and gave.

But for you, all you needed to see his eyes blink into reality, grounded by what he was so depraved of growing up. Miguel’s tension left his cheeks, softening as you intertwined your hand into his and the other brushing against the fat of his thigh– squeezing reassuringly. Like a switch was turned on, Miguel devolved into a puddle around you as a huff of relief caressed the shell of your ear.

Miguel’s shins kicked up water, splashing your nose and drenching your nostrils with the scent of bubblegum. And you laughed heartily as his chin met your shoulder– nibbling so softly as if he was chewing the stress from his mind. His arms that once rested on the edge wrapped around the underneath of your arms, cupping your waist before he finally settled his hands on the core of your stomach. His deep breaths filled the silence of the bathroom, and you could practically hear snores before you broke the sweet quietness.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured into his cheek when you turned towards the chin digging into your shoulder and then you feathered your lips onto the bone of his cheek, “such a pretty thing. My sweet thing.” Praise rolled off that sleepy ooze of warmth inside your heart, and when you felt Miguel shift and his mouth that once formed an “o” contort into an upside down close-lipped smile, you knew you hit gold.

He shook his head in disbelief, breath meeting the nestle of your neck when his cheeks lit aflame and sputtered in broken Spanish. A whimper rumbled against your bare skin, and soon enough purring vibrated your back like a cat knowing it’s being spoken to. “Sabes, eres... eres increíble. Too much, you’re too much. Christ.”

Bubbles popped around the two of you, the lights set on the lowest option so Miguel didn’t develop on one those terrible migraines that pounced the moment he was at his most vulnerable: a rare dinner date he had reserved, making out in the luminescence of his lab’s technological panels, the first time you had spent the night at his own apartment before you had moved in together.

You hummed as he begrudgingly separated his hands from you, only to lather the shampoo you love in between his fingers and starting on your scalp. He was too tender with you tonight, but you needed this treatment more than anything. Your love for him leaked from your pores and intermingled with his muscles, relaxing the both of you without even needing to say anything. But you felt the urge to tell him, to tell him everything on your mind that very moment. Yet, sleep was a fickle thing and you were exhausted, so you only huffed out a whisper before submitting to the skilled massage on your muscles.

“Love you, honey.” You breathed into the domesticity of it all, his claws peeking from the pads of his fingers just the way Miguel knew you liked against your scalp. The purring in his chest only increased tenfold, scooting closer to your back if that was even possible. The both of you hold these memories close to your intertwined hearts, knowing you only had so much time together outside of your shared second lives. You haven’t been able to reassure your feelings for him in quite a few days, and despite not needing to really say your affections aloud– Miguel preferred physicality anyways, you still caught on that vocalizing your feelings for the other had you running laps around his mind every minute and every hour of the day.

He only kissed the back of your head, just upon the mole you didn’t know you had. Without a word, the sudsy kisses trailed further down until it met where your spine began, and he bit down just faintly. 

“I’m so glad I found you,” He murmured into the soap pooling down your shoulders, soft but echoing around in the walls of the bathroom like a promise, a truth that will forever hold its meaning. Within this city of stars, the only celestial he had eyes on were you.

“Te amo, mi tesoro. Te amo mucho, cuidaré de ti para siempre (I will take care of you forever).”

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

In his own twisted way: Prologue

So here it is! First part of my new daughter of Ares fic! I hope you love it as much as I do <3

Word count: 2100 ish words

Warnings: mention of character death

Fic masterlist here!

Ares hated children.

He hated their whining, their crying, their clinging. He didn’t care for the drawings they did, or their “cuteness” or their wonder for everything new around them, and he hated when they cried like babies because of a scrape on their knee, or when they had nightmares and wanted to be held.

He didn’t like them, not even his own.

He hated how they reminded him of his own weaknesses. He hated how they made him feel something other than anger, something he couldn't name.

But he couldn't hate her.

Not entirely. Not when she looked at him with those big eyes, so much like her mother's, and a grin every time she saw him at her doorstep. Not when she smiled at him with that gap-toothed grin, so innocent and trusting, a polar opposite as to how everyone else looked at him. Not when she held his hand with her tiny fingers, so warm and soft, completely trusting him to lead the way.

She was his youngest daughter. Her name was Emily, and just as his other children, he hoped she would grow up to be a troublemaker, a rebel, and a fighter. Someone like him. He had hoped she would make him proud, or, maybe more fitting for him, at least amused. Useful for his battles.

And at barely six years old, she was a true daughter of Ares: she loved adventures, exploring the wild, she didn’t mind getting messy or dirty, and she stood up to whoever opposed to her. However, she was also gentle, kind, curious. She loved nature, and stories, and the stars, and learning. Her little soul was still pure… something Ares bewondered, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

But she was a mistake. A mistake he had made with a mortal woman, which he had tried to ignore, and he almost succeeded at it; he had visited her very few times, enough for her to know who he was, but not sufficient for him to get attached.

Until the day he found out she was dead.

Her mother, not the girl. The woman he had once loved… or, more like, had had a relationship with, was dead. The woman who had birthed and raised their daughter alone, without his help, without his care. She was now gone, leaving their daughter orphaned, alone, and unprotected.

Ares had been fond of her. He hadn’t loved her, no, not really, or at least, not in the romantical way. She had been someone he shared interests with, with whom he formed a connection with, and as a result of that, came Emily. As an immortal being, he was more than accustomed to death (it kind of came in the job description for being the god of war), and especially the death of mortals; their lives were brief, like the blink of an eye, and it rarely affected him anymore, if ever.

But Emily was alone now, without any family left, and even if he was the god of war, and all the brutality and horrors that came with it, he wasn’t exempt of having feelings (on the contrary of what he said about himself). They were the reasons why he found new lovers from time to time, and had children with them every once in a while.

Even the god of war longs for some sort of connection and human emotion.

So he had no choice. He couldn’t have Emily live with him, for obvious reasons, and he also didn’t want that. No, he’d take her to the only place where she would be safe from the monsters that would end up eventually finding her: camp Half-Blood. The camp for demigods, where his other children were. The children he hated, and who hated him back.

He was sure Emily would end up hating him as well. They all did… it was only a matter of time.

So there he was, driving a car towards Long Island, with little Emily sleeping in the backseat, her head leaning against her teddy bear, breaths even and rhythmic. He tried to not pay attention to her wet cheeks, still glistening with tears shed for her mother, or how she had raised her arms up at him upon seeing him when he picked her up, wanting to be comforted by her father; Ares tried to not think about how much she trusted him, with his rough exterior, and without really knowing him, and most importantly, he tried to not think much about how moved it made him feel.

The car stopped in the middle of the road, not too far away from the entrance to camp, hidden in the heart of the forest. Ares reluctantly turned off the engine, and silence followed, only broken by Emily’s breathing, and the faint sound of morning rain falling on the roof of the car.

Ares took a deep breath, pushing back the conflicting emotions that surged within him.

He didn’t know why he was feeling like this. It made him extremely uncomfortable in his own skin, and that was something he didn’t experience often. Perhaps Aphrodite had played some trick on him… making him actually feel something at the prospect of leaving his young daughter all alone at camp half-blood. Something like… dread, and pain, and not the one he was used to. This was pain that came from other feelings he had, that usually blossomed in his chest the few times he visited Emily, or when he looked at her from the rearview inside that car, watching her sleep soundly.

But he didn’t know how to do it. He didn’t know how to be a father, he’d never really had good role models to learn from. He didn’t know how to comfort children, talk to them… or hell, love them. And he didn’t want to even try to… because that wasn’t like him. He hated children. Why even care about his own? He was an Olympian, and Olympians didn’t do that.

When the rain stopped, Ares stepped out of the car, and went to the backseat; Emily only stirred in her sleep when he fumbled with the seatbelt, the unfamiliar task more challenging than he’d like to admit, and she kept on sleeping when he took her into his arms out of the car.

She had with her only her teddy and a small backpack filled with her essentials; Ares hadn’t grabbed more of her stuff when retrieving her.

On top of the hill, where the whole expanse of Camp Half-Blood could be seen for those who had divine heritage, Ares stood, listening: it was very early in the morning, the sun hadn’t risen yet, and the few people at camp were still sleeping; in a few weeks, most of the cabins would be full of demigod children, running around, training, and relishing in the beginning of summer. Emily would have settled until then, and she’d be ready to begin her training alongside her half-siblings to become a warrior, just as every Ares kid did.

His daughter woke up before sunrise, while he was still standing at the same spot. She mumbled something, her little eyes fluttering open, cheeks warm against the skin of his neck. She clutched her bear tighter, tired.

“Daddy?”

Ares hummed, not used to a small child talking to him in such tender voice. Like everything involving Emily, it made him feel that unfamiliar warmth he was uncomfortable with… but that he longed for when he didn’t have it, missing it.

Emily raised her head, slowly starting to look around, and at Camp Half-Blood. Her new home.

“This is where you’ll be staying from now on” he said, watching her. Her little eyebrows frowned, and then she looked at him, directly in the eyes.

“With you?”

“With people like you” he clarified, making sure she understood it “Demigods. Half-bloods. Remember what I taught you about the gods?”

“You are one. It’s your job”

She didn’t really get it, that was obvious. But she was still very young, and he didn’t really expect her to do so. Compared to him… well, his life had been already so long, that her presence in it was like a single grain of sand in the beach: small and imperceptible.

And yet, she was the only one of his children he had brought to camp himself. The only one who he had stayed around enough time for her to call him daddy to his face. The only, and first one, for many things.

At sunrise, a centaur emerged from the big house at camp, and noticed pretty quickly the silhouette of the god on top of the hill, and the small child in his arms.

Ares watched Chiron make his way slowly up to them, and he set then Emily down to the ground, helping her put her backpack on (which looked comically enormous on her little form); she grabbed his hand when she spotted the centaur, tiny fingers clutching his own, nervous. He couldn’t really blame her: she was facing many changes in a very short period of time.

“Ares” greeted Chiron, reaching them. The god acknowledged him with a nod, watching the centaur shift his gaze from him to the little girl by his side, trying to hide behind his leather coat “Hello there, young lady” Emily shyly waved back at him, and introduced herself after Chiron did “I assume… she is yours?”

“My flesh and blood” answered Ares “She will be staying at camp from now on, permanently”

Chiron nodded, and stretched out a hand for her; Emily, encouraged by a nod from her father when she looked up at him, went to the centaur, still uncertain.

“She will be taken care of here”

“I sure hope so”

Chiron looked down at Emily again, smiling at her, trying to ease up her nerves.

“Let’s go to your cabin then, young lady”

He gently guided her to the pathway that led to camp, Ares still standing there, watching them go. But Emily turned back around before leaving, searching for his eyes.

“Daddy?” she asked, with the same small voice from minutes before when she woke up “Aren’t you coming with us?”

He wouldn’t. He knew it from the beginning, of course, and Chiron also knew it. The pain in his chest, however, was unknown.

Ares told her no, and he bit the inside of his cheek when he saw sadness invading her gaze. She ran up to him, raising her arms up again, reaching for him with tears in her eyes. She was all alone, and he was abandoning her as well.

Chiron looked away, his heart breaking silently for the young demigod, while Ares stood there, conflicted by his feelings (those damn feelings he couldn’t handle).

“Listen kid” Emily still had her arms raised up, not budging, and he gave in, picking her up “You’re gonna stay here, you like it or not. Don’t go soft on me now”

Emily pouted at her dad, sniffling.

“But I want to stay with you”

“Yeah, but you can’t. You’ll stay here. That’s final”

She made a mad face at him (which made her look more like an angry kitten in his eyes, actually cute, but he wouldn’t admit that), frowning.

“You’re a meanie, Daddy”

There it was. She was starting to hate him too. Yep… All of them did.

“Sorry to break it to you, kid, but life isn’t fair”

He set her down, but she didn’t move, instead looking up at him with her big eyes. She looked like him, he noticed then, very much so in her way of staring at his face: she was fierce, but also vulnerable.

“Will you come visit me?”

Ares sighed, waving his hand as if to shrug it off.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Maybe sometimes. Now go”

Emily sighed, mirroring him perfectly, and obeyed, going back to the centaur. She did look back at him one time before leaving, though, waving at him.

“Bye Daddy. Love you”

Ares felt that uncomfortable pressure in his chest as a response to her words, feeling like his insides tightened, constricted, twisted and turned all over. He watched her go in silence down the hill alongside Chiron, and he dared to take one last look at her before leaving for good, having completed his self-imposed task of taking his daughter to camp.

“Goodbye, little warrior”

Tough exterior be damned, Ares cared for his daughter.

In the quiet of the moment, where no one was watching him, being completely alone, he allowed himself to hope: He hoped she would be happy. He hoped she would be safe. He hoped she would forgive him for leaving her there.

And he also hoped he would someday be able to forgive himself for doing so too.

***

Taglist: @strawberryys-stuff @ladysybilchronicles

[byhees]

hidden love ━━ ( 엔하이픈 희승 ) ♡ genre fluff high school au potential bestfriends2lovers warnings not proof-read petnames light injury mention

thinking about heeseung, who has been your best friend throughout the entirety of middle school, and now, three whole quarters of high school— and oh, did i mention that you have a big crush on him?

i mean, the real question here is, how could you not?? he’s such a sweetheart, and he’s always, without fail, been able to cheer your horrible day up with his little antics. well, for starters, he always gets you an extra portion of his usual sandwich, leaving the little meal on your desk, an apple-shaped sticky note beside it— breakfast’s the most important part of the day, so don’t skip it, okay princess? like okay okay, first why is this so cute, second what’s with the princess omg…

and, he loves, absolutely adores, walking you to all your classes, despite his being on the opposite end of campus; his little, kinda clumsily executed, jokes are horrible at best, but my god, why’re you giggling so hard??? it has to be that adorable smile he flashes whenever he realises how nonsensical his sentences sound, his head lightly shaking with light embarrassment. yeah… it’s definitely that.

also, don’t get me started on how unbelievably caring he is; he’ll stay up with you whenever you’re studying— doesn’t matter if he’s about to pass out asleep right on the plastic chair, he’ll do that just for you. he does so to bring small snacks and drinks to you, suggesting to take a quick break every so often. and don’t underestimate him when he says that he’ll pick you up and carry you over to the nearest couch for a brief nap; your dark eye circles, and the frequent massaging of your aching shoulders aren’t fooling him.

no because he cares about your health so, so much— even more than his own at times. that one time when you both unknowingly ended up in the nurse’s office? he completely disregarded his stomach pain, walking over to you with panic-laced steps. even recalling the incident makes you laugh— the way he examined and treated your sprained ankle made it seem as though you’d fractured a few bones. but thinking back to all his little actions, your heart does flutter; the countless number of times he looks out for you, the little vitamin drinks he leaves by your table…

and why does he have the strongest sixth sense known to mankind?? that doesn’t really help, considering your budding feelings. you’d snatch the opportunity to just admire him, and he’d suddenly, coincidentally, look up from his open textbook, unintentionally locking gazes with you. “were you just staring at me?” no silly, i was mowing my lawn— of course i was!! and don’t point it out!?

also, he’s just the absolute cutest, most endearing person ever when he walks over to you, a little teddy bear in hand, on that one particular day— national favourite person day, that’s what he calls it, and to be completely honest, you have zero clue on what that may be, but this gesture really warms your heart. like stop being so cute with your cute smile and your cute stuffed animal…

it’s no doubt at this point that lee heeseung, that boy right over there who’s focused on taking notes, is your crush; your crush who’s completely oblivious as to how his small actions tug heavily at your heartstrings.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[ssailormoonn]

❛ DOLL ❜

Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer X Fem!Reader

| YANDERE CONTENT |

WC; 1.5k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: yandere! x fem!reader, implied noncon into dubcon, stalking, kidnapping, discrete kidnapping, bruising, abuse, cuts, blood? manipulation, nsfw, smut, piv, cervix kissing, hickies, creampie?, no protection, mention of kids, mention of pregnancy, breeding + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: chrollo kidnap's you and he makes you into his perfect little doll. he does horrible things to you, marking you up as his whether is hickies, cuts or bruises, during sex or not. maybe he even takes your nen ability away and renders you useless, manipulating you

m.list | hxh m.list

You weren't strong, you wouldn't say that you were strong but your sweet words and gentle personality were enough to catch the eyes of Chrollo.

Your room has been meticulously crafted for you, you always sat in the centre of your, your and Chrollo's shared bed, knees pulled to your chest as your entire body was littered with bruises.

Your life was once colorful, filled with joy; it became a memory you would never be able to catch up with again. Now, the silence that is only broken by the floorboards is replaced by Chrollo's sweet or condescending whispers into your ear.

"You're too weak to be outside."

"That pretty face should be for my eyes only."

You clung to a plush pink teddy Chrollo had won for you the one time he ever took you out to a traveling fair. You were useless, your body rendered into nothing but a shell of a human being haphazardly constructed by the orders of Chrollo.

He'd never hit you physically, though there were more than enough times he would grip a section of your body too tight that it would leave a purple bruise behind. He held onto arms, wrists, shoulders, and legs and hips with a waist, every single part of your body.

Then he'd appease you that same evening, singing to you just how sorry he'd be even if you knew he wasn't. He would be amused by your state, although he wouldn't show it—you could just tell the way that he looked at you.

It is so loving to see the welling-up of those tears within your lash line and how your bottom lip would tremble, smirking at the sight of you pushing down the want to let out your hot tears. Still, the only reason Chrollo loves seeing you cry is because he can soothe you.

He'd want to pull you into his arms and have you sob into his chest, your fingers and hands clenching at his suit. He would be so gentle with you, holding you tight to his chest, where an arm would wrap around your waist and another would go around your upper back so his hand could rub the back of your head.

He would smother your face with kisses then, reminding you that you couldn't leave, that you were weak and didn't belong anywhere else but with him, because the outside world had too many dangers for your weak body. He took away from you a Nen ability; now you truly had no chance to escape because he even watched your diet. So that even if you had been able to get your Nen powers back, your body would collapse under its overwhelming force. "You're looking rather fragile today," he says, his voice playful as he stoops down to your level. His fingers delicately outline the bruise on your arm, one he formed when you begged to take a walk. "It's almost as if you need me to protect you from the outside world. You're so easy to hurt."

You flinch out of instinct from his touch, the fingers a stinging rose on your purpling skin. For a brief moment, Chrollo's eyes soften, but the smile is cold and rational. "You know, if you were outside, unprotected and vulnerable, you would not live out a day. Just not cut out for what the world throws at you."

His words are twisted to be of a reassuring nature, meant to keep you dependent on him. The freedom you once held so dear is now a memory, torn from you deliberately bit by bit. Chrollo has made sure that you can neither fight back nor flee.

"You should be grateful," he continues, his voice a soft, sinister murmur. "I'm the only one who can keep you safe from the dangers outside these walls. Without me, you're nothing. Fragile, delicate."

He rises from his seat, his eyes running over you thinly. Bruises and cuts map your body, evidence of how tight, how unyielding his hold on you really is, even though he would never outright hurt you.

"Stay with me," Chrollo murmurs in a low, pleading tone. "You do not need anyone else. You are just prey out there. Here, with me, you are safe. You are treasured."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, his lips brushed against your skin—that was possessive. "Say it with me: no one else will be able to protect you like I can. No one else ever will care about you the way I do."

He straightened up then stepped back, but his eyes didn't leave yours.

Chrollo said he never hurts you, but that's all he does, and yet you're starting to lose your correct thoughts. Starting to think maybe what Chrollo does is normal. "Oh, darling," he coos as tears are falling down your face, you hadn't even noticed that the tears begin to fall.

"Let me take care of you, make you feel better," he continues, and your body falls flat against the mattress, your hands now falling by your head as he holds them down and your eyes widen.

"W-What?" you manage to barely speak out, your bottom lip trembling. You knew what was coming but you didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Hush," he sings, spreading layers of hot and heavy kisses across your bare neck and shoulder, dipping back and repeating, "I know you're scared, but I'm here."

You're scared of him, not the outside world.

But your mind and soul are forgetting what it feels like to be true.

"You're mine," he whispered, the breath scorching your skin as his lips made good, solid bites and hickeys down your body, ignoring the yelps and pained mewls that left your plump lips. "Only mine."

A chill ran down your spine as his words emerged, yet a twisted thrill surged through you. His obsession over you was so palpable, almost suffocating, yet it drew you to him like a moth to flame.

And as he came, his lips inches from yours, you knew your resolve was utterly useless. No other vacancy can there be inside the realm of Chrollo except for his lusts, and you were utterly ensnared helpless allowed into his kingdom of dark and lust.

Chrollo catches your hand right before you make contact with his chest and brings it up to his neck. He closes the remaining space between us, chest to chest, and kisses you, making you forget.

You forget everything he's done to you because he makes love to you so sweetly.

You forget how he gives you bruises.

The cuts.

Forgetting how he marks you all over your body so everyone knows that you're his.

He lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. The new position has his cock nearly lined up perfectly where your spongey, gummy spot was, but he moves before you can lose your mind enough to take advantage. We fell down to the bed, inciting an out-of-breath huff from your throats.

"See, you love this," Chrollo hums, his cock resting snugly in your walls and you mewl in response. "You're so pretty like this, darling."

"S-Stop," you moan out, your words contradicting your body.

"Darling," he hums, cupping your face with one hand. "It's alright, you can have anything you want and I'm here for you."

But this isn't what you wanted, right?

He cups your breasts, but he doesn’t linger long before he slides down your body and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below your belly button. Content sighs left your mouth as your hands entangled in his hair.

You come so hard, it feels like every system is shutting down. It’s as if that orgasm took his edge off because he takes his time now, dragging his mouth over your stomach, kissing the curves of your breasts. It wasn't too long before his own cum spills inside your pussy, a white ring forming around the base of his cock, his and your own cum mixed in.

He loves how you clench around his length, you say you don't want him, but the way you milk him dry would say otherwise. You cum just from having his length snug inside your cunt and the feeling of his dangerous kisses covering your body.

"You did so well, love," he praises, cupping my face once more, kissing away more tears. "So good for me."

Pulling out slowly, Chrollo spreads your legs, admiring the cum that slips from your cute pussy and he momentarily frowns. "No, this isn't going to do," he hums to himself and your eyes widen in worry of what was going to happen. 

You were so unsure of what Chrollo was thinking, but your thoughts were answered when he entered his length back snug into your cunt and you let a whimper leave your throat in overstimulation. 

"It's okay," he reassures, putting his weight on you before readjusting your position, now you were spooning each other, your frame in front of his while he kept his cock all nice and warm in you. 

An occasional shiver radiated from your body and Chrollo's grip would tighten on you, more bruises forming on your body. His aim was to have you pregnant, to fill you with his seed and breed your cunt, wanting to see your belly swell with his child and watch you struggle even more when you're with a child. 

He knows you'd have to be even more careful 

and therefore 

more obedient. 

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[crazyforbarbatos]

Obey Me! Brothers take care of their baby while you’re away

Warning: possible heart attack from cuteness

Y/C/N = Your Child’s Name

you know, his baby was pretty well behaved

but was pretty restless after you left

a day without you was lonely

not just for your baby but him as well

you just always knew what to say and do

“I know you’re not going to want to sit with me at my desk for hours, so let’s go find something that you’ll like.”

honestly he would try different things to see what your baby seemed to enjoy

cats? anime? reading? sleeping? different foods? money? shopping?

he was a bit prideful when his baby seemed to relax when he put on some music on his record player

“A fellow Mozart enthusiast? Excellent taste.”

he also realized that his darling child also really adored Cerberus

and Cerberus really was fond of Y/C/N, even lifting them up when they stumbled over

it was never a fun time when you had to go somewhere

it wasn’t that your baby didn’t like him, it wasn’t that

just why do you have to go? can’t you take them?

they miss you, come back

like father like baby

but the credit card teether seemed to calm them down fine

honestly Mammon would try to find something to keep them busy for the day

“Why don’t we make something for mama/papa?”

and just like that, the two would spend the day finger painting or coloring with crayons

Luckily he was prepared for this

not to mention he’s played lots of games where you had to take care of a baby

not to mention your whole theme for this baby was them being your player 3

he would have a box of toys in his room for his baby

he always made sure that his prized collectables were no way in reach or had the possibilities of falling

He would pull up a nice game like mario or sonic and set them on his lap

he would give them their tiny baby controller and he’d have his

“You’re the expert, Y/C/N, ready?”

he’d be watching their tiny fingers hit buttons and would play accordingly to his baby’s playstyle so they’d think they were really playing

but he’d also help them win

“Woah, Y/C/N! You’ve beaten my highest score!”

honestly you going out gave him the opportunity to take his baby out of a father-baby day

he would have his baby carrier strapped to his front and he’d be carrying a diaper bag full of everything that was surely needed

he even had a guide to babies for dummies daddies

he knew what he was doing, but just in case

he would take his baby to a cat café and then to a local library where he could a picture book about cats softly

“Which kitty do you like best Y/C/N?”

he might even been conned into getting a kitten for your child

as if he could resist the hopeful eyes and charming smile

“Y/C/N, do you wanna go prank Lucifer after this?”

he would only get a devilish giggle from his child, but he knew that it was a yes

SHOPPING TRIP!!!

his child was in need of the latest fashion

and frankly so was he

“You’re the best dressed in the whole world, Y/C/N-besides me of course.”

he would even ask his child what shade of certain makeup he would think fit him for the day

honestly this trip would be a great way for people to see him

and lord does he love the attention

and luckily for him, his child did too

Beel would be on a mission to make sure that his little one was entertained while you were gone

breakfast together and then it was off to say hello to the other uncles

he got a baby book from Satan who he’d asked to get for Y/C/N

he asked Levi to sew Y/C/N’s favorite teddy back up after being used as a teether

a brief nap with Uncle Bels was needed as they had a long day yet

he would take them to the park so they could play on the swing or go down the slide

he would be grateful to Mammon when he agreed to come along

“Y/C/N? Want some ice cream?”

heh

he would feed his baby and change them if need be

he’d change them into their little cow onesie & wear a matching one himself

and then it was off to have a bit of a rock in the comfy rocking chair

if they were lucky, they’d sleep right there and wait for you to get home

if his baby was as restless as you, he would sing to them softly and cuddle them in your shared bed in the attic

when you’d get home, you’d find both of them snuggling together on your pillow

[nametakensff]

I like you too (S/teddie)

So after fucking forever I have finally finished the ~getting together~ fic of my mutual fetish AU 💕 Anyone who is still interested after like a year of teasing this shit, I hope you enjoy 17.8k of these idiots 🥲❤️

Following his embarrassing allergy attack at S/teve's house the night prior, having figured out S/teve may actually have the same interests, E/ddie starts up on his plan to drive S/teve crazy with his allergies - hopefully to the point of drawing a confession out of him. What could possibly go wrong?

(Carrying on directly from this fic, but you don't need to re-read it!)

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, pre-relationship then getting together, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, hay fever sneezes, sneezing from manual inducing, sneezing from fragrance, sneezing from direct exposure to flowers, inducing someone else, spray, handkerchiefs, lots of making out lol, masturbation, teasing, exhibitionism/voyeurism, hand jobs, frotting, dirty talk, teasing, sneezing on each other

CW: Internalised homophobia, threats of physical violence, shame towards the fetish, E/ddie really pushes S/teve's boundaries and they get ANGSTY, did I mention angst, miscommunication and jealousy, S/teve is a messy airhead who sneezes all over items in public and does not clean it up, they have a brief bad time before a good one

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“…-ddie. Hey, Eddie.”

“..mmmn?”

Eddie felt the welcome cocoon of sleep receding at the sensation of a finger jabbing persistently into his ribs. He snorted unhappily, attempting to roll away from the unwelcome prods but merely earning himself an even harder prod between his shoulder blades. Willing himself to pass back out wasn’t working. He grumbled and peered blearily over his shoulder through a mess of curls. Max’s placid face hovered over him. He blinked dumbly up at her, momentarily unaware of what Mayfield was doing in his bedroom. Then he heard a giggle - another girl. His eyes swivelled to El, lingering behind Max, a cheeky grin on her face as she took in the sight of his hazy confusion.

“Wha..?”

“Steve told us to wake you up and ask you what you wanted for breakfast.”

“…Steve?”

And just like that, he remembered everything. Hanging out at Steve’s place. His insane allergic reaction in front of everybody. And Steve…Steve had come to reassure him in the bathroom. And he’d –

“Well, fuck.” Eddie blurted out and snorted a little in amusement, making the two girls jump.

Steve had fucking liked that shit. He was convinced of it. God. He closed his eyes and grinned, a sudden, childish giddiness overwhelming him.

“Um…Okay…?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped open. The girls. Right.

“Shit, yeah – sorry, Red. I’m fine with whatever – cereal, toast, you know – whatever he’s offering.”

He shifted and pulled himself into an upright sitting position, about to swing his legs over the side of – Steve’s? Definitely Steve’s – bed, when he suddenly realised that he was very naked, aside from his boxers. Max took one glance at the bare torso he struggled to shield with two scrambling palms and seemed to pick up on his dilemma – super smart kid – before pulling El by the wrist towards the door.

“Cereal. Toast. Got it.” She droned, not bothering to look back. El pulled the door shut behind them, and Eddie heard the pair of them giggle as they made their way downstairs.

Now that he was alone, he sighed heavily and took the time to glance around. Yep, it was Steve’s room, all right. As neat and empty as his own was chaotic. He remembered that last night he’d taken more allergy meds and all but passed out in the living room while the movie viewing had commenced. It kind of sucked that he’d been unconscious for it, but it beat sneezing his head off uncontrollably for a captive audience any more than he already had. He blushed a little, still embarrassed by the whole thing despite the litany of reassurances and concern everyone had directed his way the second he reemerged from his shameful little sanctuary in the bathroom. He’d made a scene, passed out and – maybe, somehow, woken up long enough to get to Steve’s room and strip down before climbing into his bed? He blinked. Total blackout.

He noticed an inflatable mattress with a discarded blanket sprawled across it lying on the floor next to the bed. Presumably, Steve had slept there. Eddie felt both relieved and disappointed – sharing a bed with Steve was pure fantasy fodder, but to be so drugged up he couldn’t remember it would have been weird and more than a little depressing. Especially now that he knew Steve’s little secret. Their little secret. He smirked, couldn’t help it, almost vibrating with excitement at what he knew he had to do. Operation: tease Steve with his allergies until something fucking gives.

It was a ridiculous and somewhat risky plan – or so he would have thought, if he hadn’t seen in Steve a mirror image of his own fetishistic arousal, clear as day. He felt emboldened, convinced that this was the perfect little way to segue into a relationship of some kind with the former jock. His allergies were as good an ice-breaker as any. Speaking of…

Eddie’s nostrils began to flare, that oh-so familiar buzzing irritation creeping its way through his sinuses. It wasn’t nearly as bad as yesterday when he’d effectively sneezed himself awake, thank god – maybe that double dose of meds he’d taken had a lingering effect? Either way, he was going to have to sneeze, a regular part of his morning routine this time of year. He allowed himself to settle back against the headboard, steeling himself as his breath hitched up and up, eyes scrunching closed as the tingling itch morphed into a sharper, more definitive tickle. It may not have been as demanding as the morning prior, but it was teasing, leaving him trapped in what felt like a never-ending buildup. He found himself waving a hand in front of his face, eyelashes damp with allergic tears. He hoped the desperate gesture would hasten the tickle along – if not, it felt relieving to have something to do whilst otherwise incapacitated.

Finally, after a couple of embarrassingly dramatic false starts that both amused and aroused him as they echoed out in the (thankfully) empty room, the tickle reached its apex. His shoulders shook with three rapid hitches of breath, mouth gaping open and pink tongue cupping itself against his bottom teeth. At last he was curling forward with an intensely relieving fit.

"HehH'ENGxt'TSchieww!! IhH'TSHieww!! ESSHieww! Huh'ISSSHhuu!! Eh'Ngxtt'ieww!!"

He let them out unhindered, not wanting to sneeze directly into the fabric of the bed sheets, but for lack of any means to cover other than his hands, he decided he would rather save himself the mess. He sneezed openly and down towards his lap, sending a delicate aerosol of spray across Steve’s bedding. As he shook with each eruption, his mind couldn’t help but conjure up the image of Steve stood in the doorway of his bedroom, watching him as he lost control, enjoying the way he was utterly helpless to the tickle in his itchy, pink nose.

"Hh-HH-!! Hah'ESHHhieww!! AESH'uuu!! Hh'IGSHH'uu!! ETCHH'iewww!! Hah!! HahH'DZZtt'Shieww!!

He was hard now, fantasies even more potent than usual. This revelation about Steve, that it was something in the realm of reality that he could – no, would – enjoy seeing him like this – it all but destroyed any means of control he had over his wandering thoughts. Through the rest of his fit he pictured the look of hunger he’d seen in Steve’s eyes the night prior – imagined Steve joining him on the bed, whispering blessings and assurances as he sneezed and dripped all over the two of them. He imagined Steve crawling into bed with him, under the sheets he had thoroughly sprayed with the result of his allergies. He even entertained the indulgent thought of Steve experiencing an unexpected (but welcome) allergic reaction of his own, returning the favour as they rutted against each other.

"hh-!! OHh, fuck! HAH!! DZZTTt'shiiewww!! IGSHH'Uuuu!! hHDT’TISShhuuu!! hh-!! HAHGK'TSHHhieww!!"

His hand was on his cock, stroking and massaging in rhythm with each explosion that racked his slender frame. He shouldn’t be doing this, not while there were kids downstairs - jerking off to his own sneezes and thoughts of Steve in Steve’s bed whilst the man in question was busy making breakfast for him. Luckily, his fit was beginning to taper off, giving him enough reprieve to stand on shaky legs and manoeuvre himself over the air mattress and into Steve’s en-suite. He sneezed as he closed the door behind him, sneezed as he pulled his cock through the slit of his boxers, and sneezed as he jerked himself off into the porcelain basin of Steve’s immaculate sink.

~~~~~

Eddie stood in front of the mirror, scrunching his curls in his palms and up towards his scalp, tutting with dissatisfaction at his sub-par reflection. His unruly hair refused to cooperate, flattened in some places from sleeping awkwardly and miserably tangled in others. After he’d cum in several long streaks into the basin of the sink, moaning and steadying himself against the countertop with a shaky grip, his mind had been cleared enough to pull himself together.

Upon re-entering Steve’s room, he noticed his jeans and t-shirt, neatly folded and placed on Steve’s desk chair, as well as a little box of antihistamines and a glass of water on the bedside table. He’d dressed quickly and eagerly gulped down the water and meds, doing as best he could to untangle his mane (to little avail). He’d also taken the opportunity to clear out any residual tickles from his itchy nose into a handful of blissfully soft tissues; he was sensitive enough that just a few swipes of the delicate material against the arches of his nostrils pulled several shuddering sneezes out of him. Blowing his nose into them felt great, too. He picked up the box and turned it round in his hands, the brand name unrecognisable to him. He thought for a moment he should ask Steve where the fuck he was finding tissues like these, because it certainly wasn’t any local store he’d been privy to. It was ridiculous that the thought of doing so, discussing tissues with Steve, threatened to make him hard again. Maybe he needed a cold shower. Or a regular warm one, where he could…work through these thoughts, cock in hand.

The sound of raucous laughter from downstairs – Dustin, and then El – had him shaking his head and laughing in near-disbelief at his own uncontrollably dirty ruminations. Holy fuck, he had to pull himself together. He did just that, making his way downstairs at last, heart beating just a little bit faster at the thought of seeing Steve.

~~~~~

Gingerly walking into the kitchen, Eddie was greeted with several enthusiastic shouts from both Dustin and Robin, the former sitting at the kitchen table with El and Max, whilst Robin sat haphazardly on the kitchen counter next to the stove at which Steve was cooking some (heavenly smelling) eggs. Scrambled, by the looks of it. Eddie felt his stomach give a little growl. He was altogether starving. He brought his gaze up from the pan and locked eyes with Steve; for a split second, it felt to Eddie like they were frozen in time, something palpable and electric in the air. The hair-raising sensation vanished as quickly as it had come on, however, Steve nodding to him with a tender (if slightly nervous looking) smile and turning his attention back to the food. Eddie blinked. A little less���enthusiastic than he had hoped. Deciding not to dwell on the matter, he pulled up a chair next to Dustin, who promptly patted him on the arm.

“You okay, man?” He asked, looking up at Eddie with a look so patronisingly pitying that he barked a laugh back at him almost immediately. Dustin promptly pulled back his hand and stared at Max and El in precocious disbelief, gesturing back towards Eddie.

“Wow, you try to be there for a guy, and he laughs in your face!” the teen started dramatically, throwing his arms up. He’d clearly expected a more clandestine and grateful response from the metalhead. It was cute – he was as an obnoxious, chatty little shit, and Eddie was incredibly fond of him.

“Yeah, Dustin, ‘m’fine. I’m just busting your chops, okay?” He said as he ruffled Dustin’s hair, pulling him into a one armed hug. After a brief scuffle and a relatively painless noogie delivered via Eddie’s (ringless…mostly) right hand, the older man let go and slapped him reassuringly on the back a couple of times.

“Why do boys do – that?” El asked Max, having observed the entire affair in shocked silence.

“What – physically assault each other? It’s just how boys express love. Like men.” Max offered, rolling her eyes in a way that made El giggle in appreciation. They were definitely a cute little pair of trouble-makers, Eddie had to admit. He could take the jab. Boys were pretty dumb – as one (or, he guessed, an ex-boy – he was all man now, baby) he could definitely vouch for that. He just grinned at them as Dustin engaged Max in a squabble. It was endearing enough that he let himself get lost in listening to them bicker; the pair of them could sure go toe to toe with brutal sarcasm. It was so entertaining that he didn’t notice Steve approaching him until he felt a gentle touch on his arm.

“Hey, man.” Steve started once Eddie turned to look up at him. He stood a little awkwardly – tentatively resting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder like the older man was a delicate structure, a house of cards ready to go down with even the slightest disturbance. It irked Eddie. He wanted to cut through all the awkwardness and jump straight to the part where they had each other’s cocks in hand. Or at least each other’s tongues in their mouths.

Remember the children, Munson. It wouldn’t do to try anything quite so forward right now. Robin was watching the placement of Steve’s hand on his shoulder from her perch on the kitchen counter. And Buckley, too. Steve’s…well, definitely not his girlfriend, that much was clear. He didn’t want to overthink whatever the fuck they had going on – it didn’t seem romantic, least of all because they’d emphatically reinforced the fact with the whole ‘platonic with a capital P’ shtick. Either way, it would probably be best to work his way up to things gradually and without company.

“Hey, yourself.” He smiled his most winning smile up at Steve and was delighted to receive a brilliantly open smile in return. Whatever Steve had been worried about, it seemed to dissipate with just that small gesture.

“How are you feeling? Got breakfast for you, if you’re hungry.” Steve gestured to the stove. Robin contributed by throwing jazz hands in the general direction of the food and smiling warmly at him.

“I’m good. I could sure eat.”

Steve nodded, then hesitated for a moment. His eyes darted over Eddie’s face, making eye contact for a moment then drifting away again. Eddie cocked his head to the side a little but didn’t look away. It was clear Steve had something else he wanted to say, but it was like he was having trouble finding the words. He spoke a moment later, and Eddie listened in rapt concentration – the anxious energy emanating from Steve was doing nothing to calm his own overactive nervous system.

“I left some…meds, on the dresser for you. Did you…?”

Steve faltered, the question dying in his throat. If Eddie had previously been 99% sure Steve was an enthusiast of the same sexual persuasion, he was now 99.9%. He had to fight, actually dig his nails into his palm and bite on the inside of his cheek, to stop from grinning what he was sure would be an entirely predatory and immensely unnerving smile of smug satisfaction.

“Yeah, thanks man. Took some not too long ago.” He managed, voice stable and welcoming. He was so giddy he wanted to cackle.

“That’s – that’s good.” Steve managed. Eddie bit down harder. “Didn’t want you to suffer.”

Eddie did smile then. He absolutely wanted me to suffer, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. Eddie had to imagine that yes, whilst Steve was a great guy, despite previous assholery, the antihistamines were likely more than a kind gesture. Eddie imagined how he would feel in Steve’s shoes. If Steve was in his trailer, sneezing up a goddamn storm whilst he had company present, the majority of which was comprised of children? Yeah, he’d probably want to put a damper on that too. It was strategic. He could fuck with that.

“Yeah, they’re a real lifesaver. I mean, recently, they hardly make a difference, but still.”

His heart was pounding in his chest. This was a lot harder than he imagined it would be, if only because in trying to provoke a reaction out of Steve, he was turning himself on to no end. But he had to keep pushing. He was a man possessed.

“These days I basically just sneeze myself awake. And I just have to wait it out. Sometimes it takes like, what, fifteen minutes? It’s like my nose saved all my sneezes overnight and the second I’m conscious they just fucking overwhelm me, man.”

Steve was reacting so obviously that Eddie wondered if he wanted to be exposed. Knowing that that wasn’t the case, and that Steve simply couldn’t help practically swooning whilst he discussed his allergic struggles with him was giving him butterflies. He was torturing them both, but it was such sweet torture. Steve’s eyes were darting around, focusing anywhere other than Eddie’s face – the older man waited patiently for his response, but Robin beat him to it.

“God, that sounds like such a drag. I’m so glad I don’t have allergies. God – not to like, brag and rub it in or anything, sorry - !”

Buckley was a sweetheart. As much as Eddie wished she hadn’t interrupted and given Steve an out – said jock was now plating up a mountain of food for him, back turned – he could work with this.

“All good, Birdie. Better me than you. I’ve got fucking years of experience under my belt.”

“Still, that fucking sucks that you, like – sneeze yourself awake? I’ve never sneezed that much in my life. Except for one time Rosie Carver was wearing that insanely strong perfume – I’m talking bonkers amount of artificial lavender – to band practice, and it was awful.”

Eddie hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt, having opened the Pandora’s box that was Robin’s unmatched ability to ramble on and on. The upside to this turn of events, however, was that Steve looked almost pained with embarrassment as he placed Eddie’s plate in front of him.

“Thanks, Harrington.” He smiled and winked up at Steve, who flashed him a goofy little smile that looked more like a grimace as he continued to visibly cringe.

Steve pulled up the chair next to him and fidgeted awkwardly with the tablecloth as Eddie started to eat. He only seemed to relax a little when Max and Dustin pulled both him and Robin into their intense debate on what qualified as a man hug vs a hug from a man.

Everyone seemed appropriately distracted enough that Eddie, feeling absolutely giddy about what he was about to do, reached for the pepper shaker and started shaking it over his food as subtly as he could manage. Confident that nobody was watching, he shook a little pile of the tickly black seasoning into his hand and inhaled it quietly, rounding off the motion with a gentle rub to his nostrils that he hoped looked natural.

It burned almost instantly. He fought off a few little coughs and reached across the table for a napkin. Now Steve was watching him in that way that people do when they’re trying really hard to look like they aren’t. Eddie knew the feeling exactly, had been in this position more times than he could count. He would have smiled had the tickle not overwhelmed him in seconds, barely giving him any warning before he was sneezing desperately into the napkin.

"Hht'Tchiew! 'TSshieww!! hH'Ngxtt!! 'NGXT'TSChiew!! Oh my god, bless me.”

He couldn’t believe what he had just done. He’d been an impulsive, thrill-seeking bastard for most of his life, but this? It was insane. It was intoxicating. He blushed behind the covering of the tissue paper, working his snuffling, damp nostrils round in an attempt to assuage the itch, and thankfully it worked. He thanked Robin and the kids as they offered a round of blessings before reengaging with the extremely heated debate that had El giggling beside them. Noticing the absence of a blessing from his left – the only one he’d been seeking - Eddie’s eyes tentatively swivelled in Steve’s direction.

Steve was sat ramrod straight up in his seat, looking for all the world like he’d been stupefied. Eddie supposed he had, and was grateful for the napkin to hide his toothy grin of excitement behind, though he was sure his eyes, scrunched up in amusement, gave him away all the same. He sniffled, a wet, obtrusive sound, and this seemed to be the cue Steve’s brain needed to remind him to act like a human being again. He slumped back down into his seat, blushing fiercely and chewing at the lose skin beside his thumb nail. Eddie had to fight desperately for his own gentle blush to recede as Steve peered up at him from behind long, almost bovine eyelashes and uttered the softest, shyest little “Bless you” he had ever heard.

He lowered the napkin with shaking hands, muttering his own tiny “Thank you” in response and shovelling down the rest of his meal, tasting nothing and miles away in his mind. That had been…god, that had been so intimate. If they’d been alone, he would have kissed Steve immediately – he knew that for a fact. There was no fucking way he was misreading the desire that had saturated that interaction. He felt heavy and drugged whilst simultaneously wired enough to run a marathon. He had to breach this topic, he just didn’t know when, or how. So he would continue to be a tease until either he or Steve exploded out of sheer repressed lustiness.  

What a fucking wonderful mess he’d gotten himself into.

~~~~~

“You sure you’re good to drive?”

“Yeah, man, I’m great.”

Eddie smiled reassuringly at Steve as the younger man lingered in the open doorway. Max was already halfway to Eddie’s van, having said her goodbyes and determined to get back to her room for some peace and quiet. Steve would be delivering the other kids to their respective parents, then he and Robin would do whatever it was they did, joined at the hip as usual. Eddie was only a tiny bit jealous, but he honestly wouldn’t mind some peace and quiet himself - if only so that he could rub his own dick raw thinking about the past 24 hours.

“…Okay.”

Steve sounded entirely unconvinced, and terrible at hiding it.

“I’m not going to crash, Steve.” He smiled wickedly. “I’m an expert at driving whilst sneezing my ever-loving brains out. I could win awards for it.”

Steve shifted his weight from one leg to another, eyes darting to anywhere but Eddie’s face as he offered a stilted little laugh. Eddie hoped he was fidgeting to offset the pressure of his jean’s seams on an inopportune erection. He hoped his words teased just right.

“Sure, man, whatever you say.”

Steve managed to smile at him then. It was Eddie’s cue to leave before he got sucked back into those pretty eyes all over again and lost the ability to form complete sentences.

“Well. See you soon, big boy.”

He turned around, raising a hand in goodbye. He smiled as a chorus of ‘Bye, Eddie!’ rang out from inside the house, shouting back a louder ‘farewell’ in response. Steve watched him from the doorway, and Eddie realised he was planning to wait to go inside until after he’d left. He turned around one last time, halfway into the driver’s seat and yelled:

“If my van ends up wrapped round some tree somewhere, you get my guitar, man!”

“Shut up and go home!” Steve shouted back, looking embarrassed and pleased all at once.

Eddie grinned and stuck out his tongue, ignoring Max’s groan of disgust as he settled into the driver’s seat.

~~~~~

Eddie pulled up to his trailer – or swerved up to it, depending on who you asked. Max was one of the most tolerable passengers he had ever had the pleasure of escorting, saying nothing of his questionable steering. He drove like he did almost everything else – impatiently, erratically and far too fucking fast.

Having known Max a mere matter of months, he’d quickly begun to think of her as a little sister of sorts. She hated the trailer park, and he didn’t much blame her. He felt it was his responsibility to help her out as much as he could - even if that just meant letting her into his trailer when her mom was passed out drunk, sitting next to her on the sofa watching some shitty horror movie and cracking stupid jokes in the face of her silence. She didn’t have to say anything, she just had to know that he was there if she needed him. When she’d asked him a couple of weeks ago if he would teach her some guitar basics, he had jumped at the chance. She didn’t have one of her own yet, so he sat with his acoustic whilst she balanced his flashy Warlock on her lap and awkwardly worked her way through each chord.

The metal they had been blasting came to an abrupt stop when he killed the engine. He jumped out and circled the van to open her door for her, reaching out to take her by the hand.

“Home at last, m’lady.”

She ignored his waiting hand, casting him a trademark withering stare with those huge blue eyes and hopped down from the van. He chuckled and closed the door behind her.

“You’re extra gross today.” She offered, looking at him with what Eddie gathered was a healthy dose of suspicion.

He clasped a hand to his heart, playing up the dramatics and gasping in faux distress.

“You wound me, Mayfield!”

She rolled her eyes at him, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. He laughed gregariously, knowing the raucous nature of it would embarrass her. She shoved him softly in response, then grabbed his arm when he started to genuinely keel over. Which only made him laugh harder.

“You’re insane.”

“But you like me anyway.”

“Whatever.” She turned and started to walk over to her trailer. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome.”

He was halfway up the front steps of his trailer when he noticed her lingering.

“You good, Red?”

“Yeah. Just wondering if later you could maybe show me some more chords? I want to practice.”

He beamed at her, twirling his door keys round an extended index finger.

“Sure, I can do that. What time?”

“Depends on you.” She said. “Depends on if you’re going to be on the phone with Steve all night. Again.”

His brief moment of hesitation – and the resultant pause that had his keys spinning to the ground at maximum velocity – made her blue eyes twinkle. Damn smart kid. He scrambled for the keys, bouncing back and hoping she would brush off his temporary malfunction even as he knew without a doubt she had him all figured out. She didn’t look mean, though – she just looked smug.

“I believe,” he started as he turned the keys in the lock, “Harrington is otherwise occupied this fine evening. Unlike me. I’ll see you at 7, maybe?”

“Sure. 7 works.”

And with that, she was turning heel and pacing away. Eddie tried not to have a minor heart attack as he closed the trailer door behind him.

So what if Max had seen right through him, he thought as he dropped his backpack unceremoniously in the living room. She wasn’t going to say anything – she wasn’t a blabbermouth like any of the boys. She might – she might say something to El, though. He cringed at the thought of it. Shit. Maybe he would have to lay low on the overt flirting unless he was completely alone with Steve. He’d really fucking pushed it today, and now Max knew about his stupid, dumb feelings for Steve. Who else knew? Did Steve know? He wanted him to know. But not because the kids or whoever else sniffed it out first.

He collapsed face down on his bed and exhaled into his pillowcase. Whether it was Pavlovian conditioning or otherwise, his erection was back in an instant. He pushed aside the lingering anxiety, the overthinking, and rolled onto his back, shimmying his jeans down his hips.

The first squeeze around his cock felt incredible, and he bucked up into his own teasing grasp. This wouldn’t take long. His entire body felt like a live wire. He lost himself in the hedonistic joy of fucking into his own fist, reaching up with one hand to play with his nipples. He groaned, imagining Steve was right there with him – he was the one touching him with his big, strong hands, he was the one teasing him. His nose tingled, a sure sign that the antihistamines were already starting to wear off. Just that thought, just the thought of sneezing, of Steve watching him, Steve sneezing too –

Eddie bit his lip hard, trying and failing not to whimper as he orgasmed to thoughts of Steve for the second time that morning, knowing he was just getting started.

~~~~~

Max was only half-right about his phone calls to Steve. They were never longer than a few hours – and that had only happened a couple of times. Thirty minutes seemed to be their average. He spent way longer on the phone with Gareth, at any rate, and he wasn’t trying to get into his pants, fuck no. Guy friends could talk on the phone daily without it necessarily meaning anything. The fact that he was irrepressibly attracted to Steve and knew that Steve wanted him back – at least, as far as his allergies were concerned – was neither here nor there.

Wayne said nothing as Eddie stretched the phone cord into his bedroom and closed his door just so. There were many things to love about Wayne, but his leaving Eddie to his own business was something he was forever grateful for – even if he was much warier about doing so these days, understandably so.

They were 20 minutes into an amicable conversation and Eddie had already sneezed four times, relishing in the blessings Steve had offered. Steve was a lot more confident over the phone – probably due to the fact that his ability to disguise his body language fucking sucked, and this way he had the advantage of being unseen. It was sweet that he was possibly thinking just because Eddie couldn’t see him, he wasn’t able to picture in perfect clarity the way Steve would be blushing and squirming all the same.

“So yeah, Robin wanted to drive a little out of town – there’s this huge homeware depot out in the middle of fucking nowhere with all kinds of crap. It’s fun. You should come with us.”

Eddie wanted to, knew he wouldn’t turn the invitation down. But damn, what was the fucking deal with those two? It was so confusing. He was almost 95% sure they weren’t together, but they were like Velcro. Eddie treasured these phone calls because it was one of the few times he could talk to Steve one on one – and even then, Robin would sometimes be lounging around at his house, omnipresent in the background of their conversations.

He was jealous, plain and simple. He wanted to lounge around in Steve’s huge house and spend every waking moment with him, following him round like a little puppy dog. It sucked to be jealous of Robin – she was great, a total joy, and it wasn’t like she was the sole instigator of her and Steve’s mutual clinginess. Sometimes it felt to Eddie like they almost operated as emotional service animals to one another.

He scrunched his eyes shut, hard. Idiot. They’re just the best of friends.

“Sure, I’m down. I was in the market for some new doilies anyway.”

Steve laughed, and Eddie resisted the urge to kick his feet and twirl his hair round his finger.

“They have way more than that, dude. I’m talking bathmats, spice racks, tiny little porcelain dogs – and that’s just a preview.”

“Ooh, porcelain dogs. Midwestern Grandma chic.”

“Yeah, thought you might like the little knick-knacks.”

Eddie could hear Steve’s fond smile over the phone, and this time couldn’t help it as his hand made its way up to his curls and – yep, there he went. Spinning the locks round his finger like a fucking cheerleader or some shit.

They made solid plans and said their goodbyes. Eddie hung the phone back in its cradle and cast a weary glance at Wayne. Still awake. He would have to be quiet when he blew his post-phone-call load.

~~~~~

Steve had picked Eddie up that morning with Robin already riding shotgun. She offered to get in the back the moment she saw Eddie, which was concerning. His disappointment at the seating arrangement (which he knew had had no right in feeling, considering he was technically the third wheel on this little outing that was literally Robin’s idea in the first place) must have been plain on his face. He perhaps overdid it when he flung himself in the back before she had a chance to do so herself, the cheesy double thumbs up he flashed them as they peered at him in all his pell-mell glory looking awkward and stilted even to him. It was mercifully brushed over, and he cringed at himself for only a couple of seconds before Steve was engaging him in some stupid conversation about what porcelain animals they should buy.

The store – or rather, the industrial-sized warehouse operating as a store – was an impressive sight to behold out in the middle of nowhere. Almost everything was out in the middle of nowhere in rural Indiana, but the sheer size of the outlet was unique. Robin was practically vibrating with excitement as she got out of Steve’s car.

Eddie was in good spirits himself. He’d been sneezing a lot that morning, but not enough to make him truly miserable. His medication seemed to have calmed the reaction a little, but not entirely. Not enough to prevent his nostrils from tingling and flaring at that first hit of pollen-laden forest air. He sniffled, inviting the sensation to crest into a small, flurried little fit of sneezes he caught in his bandana.

"Hh'Ngxtt! NGXtt! ngxt'tshu! Hh! TShh-Dd'TZshh-TZzsch'iew!! Ahh…"

Those had felt so nice to indulge in, like a salve to soothe the itch. He scrubbed at his nostrils through the fabric, glancing up in time to see Steve glancing away, caught in the act of staring – just as Eddie had hoped. Robin, having run ahead several paces, didn’t seem to notice, and called out to them to hurry up. Steve practically sprinted after her, and Eddie swallowed the brief disappointment at the absence of a blessing, or any acknowledgement from the object of his desire. Saved by the fucking bell, he figured. It was no problem. He didn’t plan on giving up Operation: Drive Steve Crazy just yet. He had gumption and hard-assery on his side. He snuffled one last time into the bandana before pocketing it and catching up with them at revolving door entrance.

~~~~~

If the warehouse looked big from the outside, it was even bigger inside – and packed, relatively speaking. Mostly by middle-aged women, with some reluctant husbands scattered about here or there. There were some younger people too – a few oddball looking teens laughing at some of the tackier slogans adorning magnets and placards, and a couple of pretty college girls fussing over fuzzy cushions.

“Wow, Birdie. Where the fuck do you even start?” Eddie whistled, tipping his head back to peer up at the looming ceiling.

“Huh. I actually have no clue. This place is a monster, right?” She grinned at the pair of them.

“Seriously, Robs, no game plan?” Steve said, stood behind the shopping cart Robin had assigned to him. He had lost rock paper scissors and was only a little bitter about it.

“You make this sound like an army operation.” She rolled her eyes at them, and rolled them again when they both uttered, in perfect synchronisation, “Isn’t it?”

“I’m gonna do a quick – well, relatively quick – scan of the premises, then you can follow me with the cart. Sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Brave the terrain for us first.” Eddie smiled at her, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being left alone with Steve.

“See you in three hours!” Steve called sarcastically after her, and she stuck out her tongue and flipped the bird in response.

“Crazy geek.” Steve muttered, smiling. He shrugged his shoulders at Eddie. “Well – shall we secure the immediate area?”

“Sir, yes sir.” Eddie clicked his heels together and saluted, feeling like a total dork and delighting in the way it made Steve grin.

Another round of laughter pulled their attention over to the teens, who were at last walking away from the shelves of feel-good signage. Eddie tipped his head towards the display.

“Could start over there, see if there’s anything worth hanging over Wayne’s front door.”

Steve nodded, and the pair of them made their way over.

~~~~~

The signs were as predictably awful as either of them had expected; it was easy to understand why the teens had taken such amusement in them. Some were relatively innocuous, like ‘If you were home, you’d be here’ – others much more heinous, like ‘I must get up – my coffee needs me’ (Steve’s personal favourite) and simply ‘Fart Zone’ (Eddie’s personal favourite). Laughing with Steve over dumb shit was surely becoming one of Eddie’s favourite things to do, and if these goofy signs facilitated that, he was happy to read out loud every single one of them.

The novelty soon ran its course and prompted by a disapproving huff from a nearby older lady, the pair of them giggled like kids and retreated. Eddie dragged Steve away by the elbow, as encumbered with the empty cart as the younger man was.

“Oh man, Robin needs to see that shit. She’d be on the floor right now.” Steve laughed.

Eddie smiled, burying the mounting wave of jealousy like swallowing the most bitter of pills. They’re best friends, he reminded himself. Of course he wants her to see this shit too.

They wandered aimlessly for a little while, sticking to the very front of the store so that Robin would be able to find them. There wasn’t much more to engage with – Eddie and Steve prodded at the cushions they’d seen the girls take interest in, giving up quickly as they failed to provide any real source of amusement.

As they turned to the final unexplored aisle in the vicinity, Eddie’s nose wrinkled at a sudden, overwhelming wave of artificial scents. He stopped and peered down at the rows and rows of shelves, all stacked full of aromatic candles.

Oh fuck. His lips curled into a smile he hoped didn’t make him look like a conniving supervillain. This was the perfect opportunity to fuck with Steve, just the two of him. They hadn’t even proceeded down the aisle and his nostrils already tickled terribly. He reached up to rub them for a moment, squinting his eyes shut.

“…You okay?” Steve asked, stopping a couple of paces in front of him once he realised Eddie had paused. His eyes kept darting from Eddie’s eyes, to his flaring nostrils, right back up to his eyes again. So nervous, so obviously transparent.

“I’m good, yeah.” Eddie sniffled, walking forward. “Never seen so many fucking candles in my life. They stink.”

“Hmm.” Steve swallowed. Eddie watched his Adam’s apple bob. “You sure you want to brave it? With your…hay fever, and all?”

Oh, that had been so hard for him to say, but he’d wanted so very much to come across as a normal human being and not somebody who popped a boner every time Eddie’s nostrils did so much as twitch. Eddie almost felt bad for the sweet torture he was about to put him through.

“Luckily for me, Harrington – candles, unlike plants, don’t tend to release seasonal fuck-dust into the atmosphere.” He squeezed Steve’s arm briefly, encouraging him to keep walking beside him.

“That’s not – okay.”

Steve was flustered, almost to the point of blushing. 'Almost' wasn’t good enough. Eddie had to ramp things up.

His eyes scanned the shelves for the perfect candle to sniff, though any would probably do. It was crazy how much the entire area reeked of them, the hundreds of different scents accumulating into a maddening cloud of itchiness that almost set his eyes watering.

At last, he located a scent he knew would probably set him off in an instant – ‘Spring Meadow.’ He reached for it, heart lurching in his chest. The candle was heavy, sealed in a cylindrical glass jar. Luckily for him, it had no plastic wrapping he needed to rip through to lift the lid and get a proper noseful of the stuff. Even a foot away from his face with the lid still on, the scent was overwhelming.

“Does Birdie like candles?” He asked Steve, rotating his wrist to get a proper look at the object in question – or to feign interest in it, to make what he was about to do look a little less insane.

“Uh, sure? I think her parents have a few round the house, but I’ve never seen them lit. The ones in Robin’s room aren’t scented…”

He was watching the candle intently, like it was a bomb about to detonate. Eddie supposed that was fair enough – he’d be sweating too, at the prospect of Steve sneezing his head off, willingly, right there in front of him. The detonation Steve ought to be worrying about was him, really.

“Huh. Maybe we can test some out for her?” He peered at Steve from under his eyelashes. The younger man’s eyes did not leave the candle, knuckles almost white as they gripped the handlebars of the shopping cart. “There’re so many different scents here – might help to narrow it down for her, yeah?”

Steve said nothing. He seemed stupefied. Eddie almost felt bad, again – but he felt compelled to continue, like he was operating on a motor. He desperately wanted to sneeze, and he wanted Steve to watch every second of it. He didn’t bother waiting for any response Steve could eventually muster, twisting the glass lid free and lifting the candle to his face. It only took one tentative little sniff and he was undone, nostrils flaring to capacity. He sneezed too quickly to even draw a definitive gasp to fuel the reaction, seizing with the effort.

“HAhgK'TISHHH!! TIShhh-TSSCh-TSHH-TSH'Uu!!”

Each sneeze tore its way through him with no small amount of violence. The eponymous ‘Spring Meadow’ sure fucking smelled the part – it was like sticking his face into a patch of wildflowers and huffing them, hard. The ever-looming presence of his hay fever and the underlying sensitivity it caused seemed not to care that the fragrance was artificial – it tickled as much as any real flower ever could, maybe even more so out of sheer concentration of scent.

Hands occupied by both the candle and the lid, he merely sneezed right out in front of him – and towards Steve. He wanted him to take in every detail – and from experience, and the sensation of moisture on his own lips, that would include a healthy dose of spray with each expulsion. His eyes were screwed shut, it tickled so terribly – he couldn’t open them at all, the sneezes rapid enough he could only surrender to them as they hunched him forward, shoulders jumping and curls bouncing.

"Hahdt'DZZCHhh-DDT'shh-TZShhiew-TSschtt!!....hHAHH'IGXKSH'SHiiewww!!! Oh m’by god…"

He took the opportunity of the pause before that final sneeze to pop the lid back into place, shaking and almost dropping the candle as he suddenly felt unsteady on his feet. What a fucking rush that had been. His tongue flicked out to lick his damp lips. Shivering slightly in post-sneeze pleasure, he placed the candle back on the shelf before allowing himself to look over at Steve.

It was everything he had hoped for – Steve was a total, lust-stricken mess. The eyes he was flashing at Eddie were bedroom eyes, plain and simple. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted as he breathed softly but frantically, like he was winding down from a morning run. The cart was an immovable object in front of him, blocking his crotch from Eddie’s view, but from the awkwardly hunched stance he had adopted and overall wild-eyed appearance, a boner was practically guaranteed.

It was so intoxicating, looking at Steve like this, that Eddie forgot for a moment he wasn’t supposed to lose his composure alongside him. His own pants were impossibly tight, and it took all the restraint he could muster to not push Steve down on the hard, concrete floor and dry hump them both to nirvana.

“Ha…not such a great idea after all. ‘Scuse me.” He offered lamely, reaching for his bandana with a shaky hand. This had been a stupid idea – his brain was mush and he felt himself trembling in equal parts embarrassment and arousal, unable to maintain control of his own devious operation.

“Fuck, man…bless you.” Steve offered after a beat. He looked utterly mortified as his voice broke on the blessing, but it also seemed to galvanise him. He cleared his throat and stood a little taller.

“Bless you.” He offered again, and this time he didn’t so much as stutter. Eddie’s eyelashes fluttered, and despite his best efforts, he started to blush behind his bandana.

“Thank you.”

God, fuck, shit. This was so hot. He wanted Steve so badly. He wasn’t misreading things right now – couldn’t be. The way Steve was looking at him…he knew he never looked at Robin like that. This was significant, he was right on the money, and the longer he played this little game the more certain he became.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked softly as he blew his nose into the handkerchief. “Do you need me to do anything?”

Yes, Eddie thought. I need you to get on your knees and suck my cock ‘til I come gallons. I need you to sneeze all over every square inch of my body, and then I need to do the exact same to you.

“No,” Eddie said, storing the bandana back in his pocket. “I just think I should get away from these candles.” He sniffled again, wrinkling his nose and flaring his nostrils. Steve watched every motion. “Tickles.”

Steve shuddered rather perceptibly, despite his obvious efforts to mask it. He was probably trying to play it cool, now, ‘fake it til you make it’ style. Eddie was fine with that – he’d teased them both to their limits. When he inevitably came later tonight thinking about this exchange, it was going to feel amazing.

“Yeah, we should – we should go.” Steve nodded, turning the cart round (still conveniently blocking his crotch) and Eddie was happy to follow.

They were almost out of the aisle when Steve paused, quite abruptly.

“Harrington?” Eddie asked, watching Steve stare down a nearby candle.

“How bad can they be?” He thought he heard Steve mutter, and, to Eddie’s dismay and pleasure both, the younger man reached out and grabbed the candle in his large, tan hand.

Eddie’s mouth was dry; his stomach flipped and he felt like he might pass out a little. He gripped the side of the cart for support, cock throbbing in his pants, as Steve removed the lid and lifted the candle to his perfectly pointed nose. His nostrils flared gently as he inhaled, experimentally, before taking another sniff almost strong enough to be audible. Eddie waited.

“Yeah, that’s not- hh’OhHH!! HUH!!”

Eddie blinked owlishly, felt his body burning up as if in fever. Was he actually asleep? Was this another of his increasingly regular wet dreams about Steve? It fucking felt like it, for sure – stood mere feet away from the jock as he willingly teased a mounting sneeze out of himself, expression crumpling and twisting in unmatched desperation. It seemed to be happening in slow motion; Steve’s head was tipping back, mouth falling open, eyebrows raising up, up, up. The picture-perfect image of a man on the precipice of a most impressive sneeze – or several.

Steve tensed, held in that pre-sneeze purgatory for what was surely no longer than a second but felt like an eternity to Eddie, and then he was sneezing so violently, so loudly that Eddie was sure Robin must have heard it from the other side of the warehouse.

“HUHHHH'RISHHHHHUUUUU!!! HAGKT'TISHHHHHH'IEWWWW!!!"

Eddie watched, dumb with arousal, as Steve sneezed directly onto the candle he held in his grasp. Whether he was unable to move away, or whether he simply didn’t care, Eddie wasn’t sure. Either way, it was about the hottest thing he had ever seen. Steve’s sneezes were huge, and ridiculously wet – each burst forth with a visible cloud of thick spray, baptising the candle as well as Steve’s hand and wrist, before dispersing into the air around his immediate vicinity in a glitter of aerosol. Eddie knew he was awake and not dreaming when the soft kiss of that spray dusted over his knuckles as they gripped at the cart. His cock throbbed, drooling precum into his underwear.

Steve’s head reeled back one last time with a gasp so intense it almost sounded painful – his chest puffed out with the effort. He didn’t move the candle – just went through the cycle all over again with one final, gargantuan sneeze that was impossibly wetter than either of its predecessors.

"AHHHH'YISSSSSSHHH'IEWWWW!!!"

The resultant spray hung around for several seconds before dispersing, glittering under the artificial lighting. Eddie’s eyes flickered down from Steve’s slackening, post-sneeze expression to the candle in his grip. It had been thoroughly sneezed on – there was really no other way to put it. It made Eddie feel even weaker to notice the droplets of moisture starting to slide down the side of the glass, actually dripping in the aftermath. He had never been so jealous of an inanimate object in all his life.

“Fuck,” Steve choked out, trembling a little and sounding a fraction as ruined as Eddie felt. “Well, that was – that was something.”

You can fucking say that again, you stupid, sexy bastard.

“Yeah. Um. Fuck, man. Bless you.” Eddie breathed out, trying to will at least a little blood into the rest of his body from where it had stubbornly pooled between his legs. “Are you okay?”

Steve looked down at the candle, then up at Eddie. Whatever he saw in Eddie’s eyes, he froze – they just looked at each other, silent for what felt like forever, before Eddie couldn’t take it anymore and glanced away. Fuck. He was just as transparent as Steve. When he looked back, whatever fire had been burning behind his eyes had vanished – almost as if nothing had transpired at all.

“I’m okay. Jesus. I think we should definitely give the candles a miss – spare Robin the disappointment.”

He was smiling softly, and it was enough to help Eddie ease up, just a little. He smiled back, said nothing as Steve replaced the lid and placed the worse-for-wear looking candle back on the shelf, spray and all.

“Yep. No complaints here. Let’s get back to the soap dishes?”

“Perfect.”

They walked awkwardly for a while. Eddie tried his best not to think about Steve’s own rock-hard cock as he willed his own back down. He was blessedly soft just in time for Robin to return fifteen minutes later.

~~~~~

Ever since his stunt with the candles, Eddie had been restless. Every time he spent time with Steve, or spoke to him on the phone, he felt the irrepressible urge to spill the fucking beans. To let him know that he knows, knows that Steve likes his sneezes, and he likes Steve and his sneezes, so maybe Steve might also like him and they should do something about it? But every time he built up the courage, felt like it was all gonna gush out of him in an endless stream of confession, it was like the words got caught in his throat and died there. No matter how much he willed it, he just didn’t seem to be bold enough. Which was hilarious, given the way he was actively teasing Steve with his tickly nose every chance he got.

They had agreed to have a movie night together, the evening before whilst on the phone. Eddie had been tickling his nose lazily with a clothing tag throughout, making sure to irritate himself just enough that the sneezing was near constant. Steve sounded breathless, and Eddie knew he had to be just as hard as him. They settled the plans quickly, then Eddie hung up and made himself cum three times before falling asleep, physically satiated but mentally tortured.

The day was a blur – another Saturday spent aimlessly playing guitar, smoking up and playing with his dick. He chain-smoked cigarettes inside his bedroom, which he regretted almost the second he started, both for the damage to his throat and the stink. He greedily drank half a carton of juice from the fridge to soothe his raspy throat, which he also regretted, feeling guilty about the prospect of eating and drinking Wayne out of house and home. Lots of overthinking and regrets as the day dragged on and on, hurtling him towards an evening alone with Steve.

There had been no marked change to his allergies – as active as ever, but manageable if he took his meds and stayed inside. So, naturally, he chose to forgo medication that day. He wanted to drive Steve crazy, even as the thought of doing so was driving him to the brink of insanity. The fantastical image of Steve, sporting an undisguisable erection as Eddie snuggled into the crook of his neck and purged the persistent tickle out all over his tan skin, and the thought of him blessing him and pinning him to the couch in return…Eddie jerked off again, feeling possessed, deranged. He shuddered as he came, then lit another cigarette and smoked nervously in bed. He was only pulled yelping out of his thoughts when cigarette ashes fell on his naked chest.

~~~~~

“Hey, man.”

Steve smiled welcomingly at him as he opened the door for Eddie. Eddie smiled back, bashfully, wondering if he would ever get over the feeling of nervous anticipation after he rang the doorbell and waited for that pretty face to greet him.

“I come bearing gifts.” Eddie lifted the bag in his hand, packed with chips and cookies and other tooth-rotting junk.

“Nice, nice.” Steve nodded approvingly. “You still want pizza?”

“Is the pope a catholic?” Eddie said, untying the laces of his sneakers and trying not to fall on his ass as a result of his impatient speediness.

“Cool – I’ll give ‘em a call in a sec, wanted to make sure before I did.”

For a moment, Eddie thought they were going to hug. He was about to initiate it when Steve reached out to take the bag of snacks from him with one hand, then held out the other for Eddie to bump. He did, a crooked smile cast Steve’s way that he hoped disguised his disappointment.

They made their way to the living room, where Steve let Eddie settle in and removed the snacks from the bag. He seemed full of nervous energy – they both did. The tension between them was so palpable that Eddie could almost taste it on his tongue – electric, like ozone.

“I’m glad you’re here, man.” Steve offered, one hand on the back of his neck. It was so adorable Eddie had to fight the blush rising to his cheeks. This kind of energy was contagious.

“Same here, dude. Excited to watch you piss your pants in fear.” Eddie smirked at him, tilting his head towards the pile of horror movie Steve had ‘borrowed’ from Family Video, claiming employee perks even when they both knew there was no such thing.

“Pervert. Maybe you’ll piss your pants.”

“Maybe I will, just for the fun of it.” Eddie stuck out his tongue, feeling as high as he always did when they joked around like this.

“Exactly – pervert.” Steve said - perhaps a little more fondly than he had intended, if the way he coughed into his fist a beat later was any indication. “Gonna order us pizza now, be back in a sec.”

Eddie waved him off, trying to relax into the sofa cushions and calm down the rapid beating of his heart. Steve’s sudden absence seemed to remind his nose to start tickling anew – he’d managed to steel himself for the walk up to Steve’s house, parked outside and recovering from the sneezing fit that had overwhelmed him on the short drive over. It had been desperate and uncovered, and he’d blushed to see the sheer amount of glittering spray left twinkling on his dashboard when the sneezes finally tapered off.

Remembering this event was the final straw – his nostrils twitched lustily, wanting that same relief all over again. He scrambled for his bandana, not wanting to spray openly, at least while Steve was out of the room. Leaning forward on the couch, he allowed his expression to loosen, panting expectantly as the sneezes built. With one outstretched finger he bullied the tip of his nose from side to side, gasping suddenly as the motion finally allowed the tickle to peak.

“Hh'EhhHT'TChiew!! 'Tisshh! HaHDT'Tshh!! ISSH'uu! Hh'NGxtshieww!! Eh'NGXtt!-NGXT'TCHIEW!! Fuck, shit. HEH'ISHH!! ISSH'IEWW! EH'Tschh-TScch-Tshtt!!”

He caught each one in the bandana, rocking forward into his own hand, gripping the couch cushion with the other. The tail end of the fit had been so vicious his leg kicked up off the ground a few times. He hoped Steve had heard him, but he hadn’t been able to make out any change to that pleasing voice as he ordered their food over the phone.

Eddie scrubbed at his tickly nostrils a couple of times, allowing himself in Steve’s absence to physically scratch them internally with his fingers through the fabric. It felt amazing, to literally scratch the itch, causing even more tears to spring forth and cling to his damp eyelashes. When he was done, he lazily half-shoved the fabric into his pocket and resettled himself. By the time Steve sauntered back into the room, he was comfortably nestled into the couch, the only evidence of his struggle a nose slightly pinker than two minutes prior.

“All good?” He asked, noting that his voice sounded a little stuffier than before. Good.

“Yep, ETA thirty minutes on the pizza.”

Rather than settling down on the couch, Steve walked towards the pile of videos on the floor. Eddie got up and started sifting through them with him. A short debate ensued, where the pair bickered over the kind of movie they should start their marathon with – in Eddie’s mind, shockingly reminiscent of the way the kids had argued the night he had clocked onto Steve’s secret interest. Steve didn’t want to be too scared, and Eddie could understand – but he didn’t want to be bored, above all else, and some of these B movies were...not great. They eventually settled for ‘Fright Night’ – which Eddie had seen before but didn’t mind rewatching. He was more interested in edging his way ever closer to Steve.

They settled down next to each other on the couch as the movie started - not an excessively macho distance apart, but not close enough for Eddie’s liking. It wasn’t long before their nervous shifting brought them closer together, like a dance neither of them knew they were doing. Even when Eddie stifled three little sneezes against an outstretched finger, barely audible, Steve didn’t tense up and flee the way Eddie had expected. He offered a soft little ‘bless you’ that went straight to Eddie’s dick and pressed his knee against his.

Eddie could hardly breathe. He watched the movie but took in nothing. The weight and heat of Steve’s leg against his own was the centre of his world.

Both of them jumped when the doorbell went – Eddie suspected for different reasons. The horror was starting to amp up, and Steve was practically chewing his own fingers off. He jumped almost a foot in the air, laughed, then assured Eddie he would get the door. They ate the pizza in companionable silence when he returned, laughing through mouthfuls of cheese as the movie became laughably camp.

~~~~~

Eddie managed to eat about half the pizza he could usually wolf down. The anxiety, the excitement of being so close to Steve was driving him crazy – and he hadn’t even enacted the latest tease he had devised as part of Operation: Drive Steve Crazy. The little daisy he had plucked outside his trailer seemed to burn through his other pocket, wrapped in another of his bandanas.

The plan had been to switch it up with his regular bandana, then keep the daisy concealed as he lifted the fabric to his nose. Steve would be clueless to his mischief as the little flower teased him into sneeze after sneeze.

For this to work seamlessly, he needed to sneeze again. That way, when he reached for the bandana, Steve wouldn’t so easily put two and two together that the fabric enclosed around the flower was an active source of irritation for him, ultimately operating as the cause of many more sneezes to come.

Eddie glanced subtly over at Steve – he seemed suitably engrossed in the movie. Eddie was glad he was enjoying it, perhaps a little regretful that he would soon be distracting Steve enough that he would be entirely unable to focus on it any longer. It was a fun movie. He raised a hand to his nose and started to wriggle the tip back and forth, scratching a fingernail round the rim of one sensitive, flaring nostril, and then the other. It was a maddening sensation, and it was just enough to work.

"EhHT'TSChiew! TSsiew!! Hah'TCHiew! ESHH'uu!! Ahh. ‘Scuse me.”

He sniffled, pressing a finger gently to his philtrum to avoid further outbursts for the moment. To his absolute pleasure, Steve blessed him softly, reaching out to squeeze his knee for just a moment. He didn’t turn to face Eddie – whether he was really that into the movie or was simply too embarrassed to look at him the metalhead couldn’t be sure. He muttered a small thanks, and with a shaking hand, reached into his pocket for the handkerchief – and the daisy concealed within.

This was crazy. He knew it was crazy – it made him feel almost physically ill with a heady mixture of anxiety and desire – but he was doing it all the same. Steve wasn’t looking at him as he gently unfolded the bandana, peeking inside to locate the little flower. He found it, his heart beating as he saw the smears of yellow pollen it had left against the black material from being smushed inside. He pinched the daisy stem between the fabric, holding it securely just out of sight, and lifted the bandana up to his nose.

It took barely the slightest sniff for the gentle flare of his nostrils to expand to capacity; the pollen tickled him mercilessly. He sniffed again, even softer, but that was all he needed before a dramatic gasp tore its way out of him, making Steve jump slightly in his peripheral vision. He had no time to apologise before his watery eyes slammed shut, mouth yawning open, and then he was convulsing repeatedly into the cloth clutched between shaking hands.

"Heh'ENGXT'TSSieww!! 'TSShHhieww!! Ah'ISHH'uuu! Haht'TChiew!! EHdtt'TChieww!! Ehh'NGxt'TSsschh!!"

“Fuck, Eddie – are you okay??” Steve asked, but Eddie couldn’t respond. His head ducked down over and over again, the sneezes growing in intensity as he lost all ability to hold them back.

"DDzZZT'TSsHIEwww!! haHH'AGKk'KShieww!! hh-HH! EHHDT'TSCchieww!! HIGK'TSSHhh!! 'TZZSHiewww!!"

Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. The daisy and all of its residual pollen was pressed up against his face, teasing his nostrils even as they fought valiantly to purge themselves of the tickle. And god, did it tickle. His eyes were streaming down his cheeks, fat tears of irritation rolling down as he continued to sneeze. Steve started rubbing a broad palm up and down his back, gripping his knee with another hand. Eddie’s cock was incredibly happy with the current turn of events, and he was grateful not for the first time for his preference of dark clothing.

"HuHHPT'TSSHhhh!! TISHH'Iewww!! Hh'IGSHHHH!! ESHH'IEWW!! hahH'AEGK'TSHieww!!...Hh-H-HH-!! EHDT'TISHH'IEWWW!!

That last sneeze ended on such a high-pitched and desperate vocalisation he would have mistaken himself for a girl. And fucking hell, that was embarrassing and arousing all at once. Steve exhaled, a broken sound that made Eddie want to go off in his pants. He absolutely could not let that happen, though – he had to put an end to this, at least cut off the source of immediate irritation. He lowered the bandana into his lap, exposing his dripping face to Steve as his face contorted in a tortured mask of anticipation.

A couple of really big, uncovered sneezes would probably put an end to this – at least he hoped. He couldn’t switch out bandanas right now without risking exposure – both of the daisy and of his erection, which Steve was bound to notice if he looked down at Eddie scrambling in his pockets. He let the ticklish, allergic sensation build, gasping dramatically and wishing he had some way of watching Steve watch him.

He gasped once, twice, then allowed his entire body to be thrown forward with the force of the resulting sneezes he caught loosely with one upraised palm – or that he, more accurately, merely aimed the sneezes towards.

"HAHHH!! HAHh'ESHHH'IEWWww!! Hh-HHH!! IIEESHHHH'IEWWW!!! Ohh my god…hh, fuckk…Bless me.”

“Fuck, Eddie. Bless you. Holy shit.”

He snuffled into his hand, feeling floaty and over-sensitised. Bleary eyed, he looked over at Steve, taking in that familiar expression; bedroom eyes, slightly parted lips as his breathing deepened, the flushing of his gorgeous tan cheeks. He looked a little longer, blinking away tears, and then he looked pointedly down. Steve pressed his legs together and shifted his hips in a pitiful attempt to shield his erection, but Eddie had seen it. He swallowed against a sudden deluge of saliva at the sight.

His eyes slowly made their way back to Steve’s face. As they did so, Steve pulled his hands away from Eddie’s back and knee. The sudden absence made Eddie shiver and long for that touch again, a burning need that made him feel almost feverish with desire. The movie continued in the background, and Steve turned unfocused eyes back to the screen, his posture rigid and awkward.

Eddie wiped his palm clean on the bandana, staring at Steve. He knew Steve knew he was watching him, but stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. Eddie felt like screaming. He wanted Steve to throw himself at him, kiss him until they were both breathless. Why wasn’t he doing that? What more prompting could he possibly want??

Fuck it, Eddie thought. If Steve needs direct, direct is what he’ll get.

“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asked, pressing his knee against Steve’s, forcing himself back into his space. Steve visibly flinched. He still didn’t look at him.

“Uh, yeah. It’s a good movie.” He mumbled, sounding reedy and desperate in a way Eddie had never heard before.

“We both know I’m not talking about the movie, big boy.”

Eddie brought the bandana back up to his face, just for a second, just enough that the daisy pushed him over the edge for an encore.

“EhhTT'CHIeww!! TIShh'ieww! hh'NGXTsshh!! DTSCH'Uuu!! Fucking hell….”

Steve shivered and scrunched his eyes shut. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck tight and tense. To Eddie’s sadistic delight, his face was blooming an impressive shade of red.

“Bless you,” He breathed. He remained facing the TV like a lifeline, like looking at Eddie might actually kill him. “I…don’t know what you mean.”

Eddie frowned. He was getting irritated and short-tempered. All of the games he had been playing, the weeks of endless sexual frustration – the end was so near he could almost taste victory. But Steve was stubborn, stalwart - clinging to denial even as Eddie caught him red-handed.

“Harrington. Look at me.” No movement. “Steve. Please.”

It made no difference. In a display of uncharacteristic strength, Eddie yanked Steve by the bicep, ignoring his yelp of shock as he turned towards him, finally looking him in the face.

“Come on,” Eddie purred, lowering his voice the way he would when he was playing a seductive character in a D&D campaign, praying it was efficacious enough that Steve would listen. The younger man sat rapt, frozen like a deer in headlights. Eddie swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a moment let his courage crest, and then –

Steve’s eyes were round, wider than Eddie had ever seen them, completely zoned in on the daisy he raised up between them. He twirled it between his fingers, displaying the tiny little flower that pulled so many desperate sneezes from him. It still wasn’t enough. He still had to say it.

“You like it when I sneeze, Steve.”

~~~~~

The silence stretched between them for long enough that Eddie thought for a moment Steve hadn't heard him. He was about to repeat himself when Steve tore his eyes aware from the daisy and up to Eddie’s face.

It was like being sucker punched in the gut. Whatever Eddie had been expecting – arousal, acceptance, embarrassment, admission – it hadn’t been this. Steve looked at him with sheer anger and contempt. He was looking at him like he was a bug he wanted to squish underfoot. Eddie gawked like an idiot, finding himself as wordless as Steve had been moments earlier.

His eyes silently followed Steve as the younger man stood up, towering over him. Eddie could barely breathe.

“Get out.” Steve spat, glaring down at him. Eddie could only sit and stare back up at him like an idiot.

“Get. Out.” Steve repeated, his voice a little louder and dripping with emotion. Eddie’s mouth opened and closed, like a kind of stupid, catatonic goldfish. Any and all confidence he’d been exuding mere moments ago had vanished, leaving him cowering with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

“Steve. What??” He managed, sounding raspy and miles away. The way Steve was looking at him made his chest feel like it had caved in. His skin was prickly and he felt uncomfortable all over.

Steve’s fists were clenched tight, and they clenched even tighter when Eddie spoke. Eddie swallowed, his mind conjuring up the awful image of Steve beating him to a pulp.

No. This wasn’t what he’d planned. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be more wrong. He needed to do something, to fix it before his entire world imploded. His mouth opened, but he was voiceless, again. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Steve’s; they had him pinned like a butterfly to board.

“…Is that why you’ve been getting closer to me?” Steve said suddenly. The sounds from the TV swelled in the background, a cheesy pop number playing as the protagonists found themselves in a nightclub. It barely registered to either of them.

“To humiliate me? To play some fucking elaborate joke on me?” Steve went on, voice shaking, staring and staring. Eddie shook his head frantically, panic swelling in his chest.

“No. No. Steve, listen to me –“

“You should get the fuck out of here before I kick your ass."

Hurt. Hurt exploded in his chest and spread through his extremities in an overwhelming wave that made Eddie feel like he was dying. Sickly goosebumps broke out on his arms. No. This wasn’t happening.

“Steve. Please. Just give me a minute. I can explain, I can explain everything.”

At last, Steve’s eyes swivelled away, and with their gaze their paralysing effect. Eddie jumped to his feet, hands raised cautiously in front of himself as he eyed Steve’s balled fists. Steve’s brow was furrowed, his teeth clenched tight. Eddie realised in another sickening rush that he was trying to hold back tears. His own eyes prickled in response.

“I don’t want to hear it, man. Just go away.”

Steve’s voice was thick with emotion. It was agonising to hear. Eddie was no stranger to self-hatred, but everything before seemed to pale in the face of his latest fuck-up. His own voice trembled as he opened his mouth.

“Steve. Please. I need you to listen to me. Please look at me. You’re my friend, man. I don’t want to humiliate you. What the fuck. I’m freaking out, Steve, please look at me.”

He rambled, sounding like a fucking maniac - like the way he'd spoken moments after he’d had Steve pinned to the wall of the boathouse, relaying what horrors he’d seen that night in his trailer. Completely and utterly lost, like the world was caving in around him. Steve must have recognised that desperation because he did turn to look at Eddie, eyes shiny and wet but marginally less hostile. Now he just looked pained.

“Then what is this, Eddie? What the fuck are you doing to me?”

Eddie floundered for a moment, licking his lips nervously, fingers twitching. It was okay. Steve wasn’t going to punch him out. He probably hated him, but he didn’t want to kill him. Progress.

“I’ve been. I’ve been flirting with you. Fuck.” When Steve merely looked at him, he carried on. “I figured out you like it when I sneeze, so I just. Kept doing it around you. As often as I could.”

From a purely clinical standpoint, Eddie could admit it was fascinating watching Steve’s face shift through so many expressions and colours in a matter of seconds, taking in what Eddie was saying. He looked almost blue when he muttered a strained little ‘When,’ under his breath.

“Steve, dude, you need to sit down.” Eddie reached out nervously, his hand hovering next to Steve as the younger man looked about five seconds away from passing out. Steve shook his head.

“When,” He repeated, words almost slurring together, “Did you figure it out?”

“…The night I came round for the movies with all the kids and had a real bad allergy attack.”

Steve groaned, sitting down at last and cradling his face in his palms. Shaking, Eddie lowered himself down beside him, crouching on the very edge of the cushion. He touched a gentle hand to Steve’s shoulder.

“Please don’t.” Steve moaned, and Eddie pulled his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove.

“Steve…It’s okay.” Eddie started, leg bouncing up and down and shaking the couch with it, but finding himself unable to stop. He felt sick with anxiety. He watched as Steve shook his head, face still buried in his hands.

“You don’t understand.” Steve rasped. “This is mortifying for me. It’s not normal. I’m not normal.”

Eddie shook his head, clenching his eyes shut, even though Steve couldn’t see.

“No, man. It’s really okay. I know how you feel – “ Steve scoffed, shoulders jumping, but Eddie ignored him. “I do. I understand you.”

Steve swallowed, hissing a breath between his teeth as he shook his head again, even harder. He was pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“No, Munson. You don’t. I’m fucking sick. You know. You know I am. Fuck. I am humiliated.” He was openly crying now, hiccupping soft little breaths like he was moments away from a panic attack, which didn’t seem like an impossibility.

Eddie looked at his shaking shoulders, then turned his gaze up at the ceiling. A wave of defeat seemed to pass over him, like a thick shroud that numbed his anxiety and filled him with a sense of sudden, otherworldly calm. It was extraordinary, quite how much he had fucked this up. Steve, instead of jumping into his arms and ravaging him, was now having an emotional breakdown right beside him. He’d made Steve cry. Instead of bringing them together, he had pushed them apart. No further than a foot away from each other, they may as well have been on other continents in that moment.

With the calm and the defeat came the benevolent thought, like a heavenly doctrine from above: Fuck It.

“No, Steve. I really understand. I’m exactly the same as you. I get off to sneezing too. If you’re sick, then so am I.”

His delivery was flat and felt anticlimactic, but it was out there. He’d admitted it out loud, for the first time in all his twenty years. The relief he’d been expecting by confessing was entirely numbed by the bitter self-hatred, by Steve’s gentle crying beside him. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he sat still for long enough, he’d simply cease to exist.

“You really need to fuck off if you’re going to mock me.” Steve moaned into his hands.

“You don’t need to believe me. It doesn’t stop it from being true.”

Eddie sat there, stoic as a statue, entirely focused on his new mission of vanishing into the ether. He didn’t notice when Steve stopped crying, so when Steve placed a hand on his thigh, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus-!”

“Are you serious?”

Eddie willed his soul back into his body, looking at Steve’s face – his poor blotchy face, eyes swollen and damp with salty tears – and felt himself smile, weakly, despite himself.

“Yeah, man. Is it really that surprising?”

He felt like crying too. He was utterly exhausted, and he’d done it all to himself. Him and his grand plans. At least Steve was no longer looking at him with hatred or pain. Now he wore a look of cautious inquisitiveness. He tried to focus on the sensation of Steve’s warm hand through his jeans, like a tether to the material world.

“Will you tell me more?” Steve asked, softly, like he was abashed at his own overreaction, and like Eddie was a delicate flower to be handled with care. Maybe his destructive meditation had started to work. Perhaps he was turning translucent right now, and Steve was trying to coax him back to total opacity. He laughed, a forced, reedy little sound.

“What do you want to know?” He smiled down at his knees. “That I’ve been teasing you in the hopes that you’d figure out I was the same? That I thought you would confess to me, that you might actually want to do something about it?”

He grit his teeth as tears of self-directed anger started to form, blurring the image of his knees and the back of Steve’s hand in his periphery. He breathed out shakily.

“That I’ve been driving myself mad with stupid fantasies and touching myself to the thought of you, Steve Harrington, actually being with me? Wanting me back in the same fucked up way?”

Steve’s hand gently tensed on his thigh. He carried on, unable to stop, letting the tears gently roll down his cheeks.

“I’m the one who’s mortified. I’m humiliated. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, man. I never fucking think, I just do. I do stupid things all the time. I fucked up. I’ve made a fool of myself, and I made you fucking cry in the process, and I really fucking wish the ground would open up and swallow me right about now.”

He exhaled. That was the catharsis he had been looking for. He was bitterly angry with himself, but he felt lighter than he had in – well. An exceedingly long time.

Steve said nothing, and Eddie didn’t bother looking up. They had both stopped crying. The movie suddenly seemed too loud, penetrating their bubble. Eddie listened as Steve reached for the remote and turned the TV off entirely. His hand never left his thigh.

“Do you still want me to go?” Eddie asked, so low it was almost a whisper.

“…No. Don’t go.”

Eddie looked up in disbelief. Steve was looking at him with huge, sad eyes. Where there had once been icy hostility, there was now only warmth. Eddie swallowed, eyes flicking back and forth between each of Steve’s.

“I don’t disgust you? For what I did, and everything I just said?”

Steve shook his head.

“No. Not one bit.” Steve swallowed. “I just…can’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t know you liked guys?”

Eddie flashed him a wobbly smile.

“Neither did I. Not until you.”

Steve’s hand squeezed his thigh again, and despite everything, Eddie felt his cock hardening under the attention.

“So…” Steve said. “Do you – are you saying you like me, then?”

Eddie giggled at that, letting his head tip backwards until he was leaning back into the couch and laughing for real. When it didn’t stop, he pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. He peered at Steve under damp eyelashes, relieved to find him waiting patiently and decidedly not about to take a swing at him.

“Harrington…” He managed at last, “I just told you I jerked off thinking about you in the weirdest possible way. I told you I’ve been flirting with you. We talk on the phone almost every night. I think it’s safe to say that uhh, yeah, dude – I fucking like you a lot.”

Steve nodded, fucking nodded his head in response. He looked pensive, like Eddie had explained some kind of scientific theory to him and he was really chewing it over.

“Good. Good.” He nodded some more. Then he started to crawl up the couch until he was pressed right up against Eddie’s side.

“Steve,” Eddie breathed, arms instinctively coming up to wrap around the younger man’s shoulders as he positioned himself over him, thighs outside Eddie’s, sandwiching him in.

“I like you too. I think I just finally figured it out. I like you.” Steve seemed further emboldened with each word, like speaking it aloud had been the final push he needed to open up to the previously unimaginable.

Eddie’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he may be dying for the third time in as many minutes, but this time he found he didn’t care.

“Steve,” He sighed again, unable to say anything else, hoping it was enough to convey everything. His cock was an exclamation between his legs. Steve hummed in response, pressing their bodies together and cupping Eddie’s jaw in one hand. When their clothed erections rubbed against each other, they both shivered and moaned as though electrocuted. Steve held his face close to Eddie’s, eyes like molten liquid as he gazed at Eddie under hooded lids. Eddie’s breath puffed out against his lips.

“Is it okay if I kiss you now?” He murmured, so close Eddie could feel the words take form.

~~~~~

Eddie lunged forward in response, pressing their lips together and pulling a tiny sound of surprise out of Steve. Their teeth clacked together a little painfully, and Eddie would have cringed away if Steve hadn’t reciprocated with just as much enthusiasm moments later. It was a heated mess, but then they found their rhythm and everything felt fucking electric. They writhed against each other, moaning into each other’s mouths with every nip and suck.

Clawing at Steve’s shoulders, feeling like he was going insane with desire, Eddie sucked Steve’s tongue, hard. The rumbling of Steve’s reciprocal moan made Eddie’s hands tingle where they rested on his back, the reverberations sending chills down his arms. When Steve returned the favour, then pulled away with a filthy popping sound and starting nibbling at Eddie’s bottom lip, he made such a girly sound of appreciation it took him a moment to realise the sound was coming from him.

Steve’s hand continued to cup his face, his other hand supporting his position over Eddie against the back of the couch. The metalhead marvelled at how he could feel like such a soft puddle of nerves whilst being the hardest he had possibly ever been in his life – an oxymoronic existence. His cock was straining in his pants, honestly starting to hurt a little. He wanted to do more than just suck and moan and buck into Steve as he clung to him like a lifeline, but the kissing was so captivating he couldn’t bear to stop.

He didn’t really get much of a say in the matter, however, as moments later his nose began to prickle ominously. The tickle clearly didn’t like being ignored, especially after all the direct exposure to pollen fuelling its voracity. It was as if it had waited for his crisis to end and the kissing to start before rearing its head once more. Each time Steve’s nose nudged against his own, the tickle blossomed relentlessly. He groaned deeply, feeling lightheaded as his brain - slow and semi-functional, bereft of blood as it was - suddenly acknowledged what was about to transpire.

He pulled back with an awkward popping sound, Steve chasing him immediately and stopping only when Eddie turned his face away entirely.

“Hey,” Steve gasped, sounding immediately concerned. “Are you okay? Wanna stop?”

“N-no-” Eddie managed, stuttering as the tickle ground against his sinuses, leaving itchy tears to prickle at the corners of his eyes. He turned back to Steve. “I just – I have’to-!!”

He pulled in one final, lung-filling gasp, teetering on the edge for a moment before he felt Steve press his face into the crook of his neck and kiss at his heated skin. The pleasant surprise of it pushed him over the edge, buckling forward and sneezing violently over Steve’s shoulder and down the back of his T-shirt.

"EHhT'TSHhieww!! ISHHH'UU! Hah'EnGXT'TSchieww!! TIShhh!! HIG'TChieww! HAH'ESHHHhhh!! Ohh, fuck…"

Steve moaned into his neck, the vibrations sending further chills of pleasure through Eddie and raising even more goosebumps up and down his arms. He sniffled, feeling dazed and dreamlike, and then he was gasping again, albeit for a different reason as Steve started to suck a hickey onto the side of his throat. He didn’t believe the myth jocks liked to espouse that they were de facto sex gods, bragging about the pussy they got and the way they made girls cream the second they touched them – but Steve? He believed it now. His toes curled at the pleasure-pain of that sucking, just the right amount of teeth and pressure to leave him writhing.

“Fuckkk, Steve-!”

Steve pulled away at last, licking the sensitive skin and blowing on it, making Eddie shudder again. He kissed up Eddie’s jaw, all the way to his mouth.

“Bless you, Munson. You’re driving me crazy.” He murmured before kissing Eddie again.

“Mmm,” was all Eddie could manage for another moment, then he was kissing back harder.

“Did that…did it feel good?” Steve muttered against his lips when they reached a natural lull in the kissing. Eddie’s face heated, because yes, it had felt fucking incredible. His cock throbbed and throbbed in his jeans.

“Yeah, fuck. Feels so good to sneeze, Steve.”

Steve sighed in pleasure, laughing a little and kissing the side of his mouth.

“Well, I guess your allergies aren’t such a bad thing.”

“You have no idea,” Eddie gasped, lips feeling swollen as they kissed each other stupid, “How good they feel for me.”

“Then tell me, please.” Steve said, making it impossible for Eddie to do so as they kissed for another two minutes straight.

Breaking away with a moan, Eddie gripped at Steve’s shoulders, putting to the back of his mind that his iron grip was probably stretching the tight fabric beyond repair.

“It turns me on. Not just other people, but me…I like it when I sneeze, too.” His eyes were screwed shut as he confessed, but the way Steve’s breath hitched as he started to rock his hips against his own urged him forward.

“I have to jerk myself off most mornings, when the pollen count is stupidly high. I wake up sneezing, and sneezing, and it takes me so long to stop. I just have to let it happen. And it feels amazing.”

Steve swore, burying his face into Eddie’s neck again and starting to grind against him even harder. Eddie moaned and carried on.

“Sometimes it’s so much I can’t even get out of bed and take my meds before it starts. It’s like the pollen’s been teasing me all night long but there was nothing my nose could do until I woke up, and then it doesn’t stop. I have to touch myself,”

He let his hands travel down Steve’s spine, emboldened with every word.

“And I make myself cum. The sneezes make my whole body feel so good, it never takes me long. Sometimes I think about – hah! People watching me.”

He gasped mid-sentence as Steve started to suck another hickey, this time right near his jawline.

“I think about – about other people touching me, and holding me while I do it. Fuck it, Steve, I think about you. I think about your hand on my cock, making me cum, letting me sneeze all over you-!"

“Fuck, Eddie!” Steve reached down between them, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down. He hesitated for a moment before standing up, shucking them off entirely, then his t-shirt, until he was standing in front of Eddie in just his boxer briefs.

“God, Harrington. You’re – wow.” Eddie murmured, wishing he could do more than gape like a moron as he took in the sight of him. For what it was worth Steve seemed elated by the response, smirking and moving effortlessly now that he was in his element.

“You gonna join me?” Steve prompted after a moment longer of Eddie drooling at him.

“Oh! Yeah, fuck, hold on.”

Eddie all but yanked his band shirt over his head, swearing as his guitar pick necklace managed to get tangled in his hair in the process. He reached for the tangle, shooting Steve an apologetic glance but receiving a look of pure hunger at the sight of his shirtless torso, so intense that he felt like swooning. Steve reached down and unbuckled his pants for him, wordlessly pulling them down as Eddie shifted his hips up, letting him do so. At last he managed to free the traitorous necklace, yanking Steve down on top of him again. It felt even better like this, skin on skin, Steve’s chest hair tickling his pecs as they pressed together.

“You’re so hot, Eddie,” Steve said, sounding like he really meant it - sounding, if possible, even more enthusiastic than he had in any of Eddie’s fantasies.

“Look who’s talking.” Eddie smiled shyly back at him.

Steve lined their hips up for a moment, sighing happily as their cocks pressed together. To Eddie, it somehow felt like the thin fabric of their underwear alone was even more torturous than when they had had the additional barrier of their jeans. He rocked up against Steve, moaning against his collar bone and clutching at his waist. Steve kissed into his hair, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“Have you ever thought about me?” Eddie panted out, with great effort, as Steve shuffled out of his boxers and started to help Eddie out of his own.

Steve’s cock, as expected, was unfairly large and gorgeous. It was hard to miss through the outline of his jeans even totally flaccid – seeing it at full potential had Eddie’s mouth watering, but also making his own junk feel entirely insufficient in comparison. His cock, though not small and what he would personally describe as on the bigger side of average, seemed to cower for a moment. He immediately shut down that unwelcome train of thought, refusing to feel emasculated and jealous like a fucking loser when Steve was right fucking there in front of him, his huge dick hard for him. What the fuck.

Steve reached down and took Eddie’s cock in his warm, broad palm, cradling him for a moment. Eddie twitched immediately, drooling precum down Steve’s knuckles.

“Shit,” He whimpered, nails digging into Steve’s waist.

Steve pulled back his hand, spat into it, then started to pump him in earnest. Eddie’s head tipped back with one long, closed mouth groan. Fuck, that felt good.

“I have – thought about you.” Steve confirmed after a moment. “Is this okay?” He asked, stroking and squeezing a little harder as Eddie moaned his affirmation.

“I’ve thought about you a couple of times, but I didn’t – I tried not to think about it afterwards. I felt too – you know. Ashamed, I guess. We’re both guys and I was thinking about us together, and how you – aghh. You know what I mean.”

Steve was shy, Eddie realised. He was naked, sprawled on top of Eddie and pumping his cock like a pro, even rolling his balls in his sack with his other hand – and he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word ‘sneeze’. Eddie felt a sudden wave of mischievous energy embolden him.

“Thought about me sneezing, Steve?” He looked up at him, eyes hooded and bright. When Steve blushed, all pretty and flustered, Eddie’s cock lurched in his fist. He clenched his teeth, feeling his orgasm approaching at an embarrassing pace.

“Need to back it up, Harrington – fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, god.”

Steve sped up.

“That’s kind of the point, Munson. We’re having sex.”

“Smart-ass,” Eddie whined, toes curling as Steve stroked him mercilessly. “I haven’t even touched you yet, fuck.”

“Then touch me.” Steve sighed, bringing Eddie’s hand from his waist and urging it to his cock.

Eddie spat in his hand before touching him, but Steve was already so wet at the tip, he noticed with no small amount of pride, that he barely needed the extra lubrication. It was like masturbating in reverse, on a bigger, thicker cock than he was used to, but so familiar he took to it in no time. The sounds that Steve was making, the look on his face as Eddie pulled at him – it was so incredible that his own pleasure seemed to fade into the background. All he could focus on was Steve, on making him sigh and moan and whisper his name. He liked the way Steve’s hips thrust uncontrollably whenever he teased at his frenulum, so he did it again and again.

“Fuck,” Steve sighed, urging their cocks together and rocking his hips. It was a little awkward as they jerked each other off, and their knuckles kept bumping together, so Eddie reached up and pawed at Steve’s hairy chest and stomach instead, pinching and teasing at his nipples as Steve took over rubbing them both. When he reached behind and grabbed at Steve’s round, muscular ass, Steve all but growled, speeding up his efforts and causing both of them to gasp.

“Fuck, this feels so good. Why does this feel so good?” He sighed against Eddie’s mouth. Eddie didn’t know what to say, because he himself was having a hard time remembering his own name. He kissed Steve’s neck furiously, nuzzling into the hair at the nape of his neck, inhaling his scent as deeply as possible. He smelled so good, like sweat and hairspray and cologne and something uniquely Steve. When Eddie’s nostrils prickled ever so slightly in response, he thought of the little daisy, wrapped in his bandana beside them on the couch.

“Stevie,” He muttered against Steve’s mouth. “Do you want me to sneeze for you?”

Steve’s cock throbbed so powerfully in response Eddie was sure he was about to shoot right then and there. His red face and immediate extraction of his masturbating hand seemed to signify that that had very much been the case. He managed to hold back through sheer willpower. Their cocks bobbed against each other in the sudden absence of his grip.

“Fuck, yes, yes.” Steve panted.

Eddie smiled, reaching for his bandana. He twirled the little daisy between his fingers, and sat back.

“You ready?” He asked, shooting a crooked smile at Steve, who was staring at him with a look of total adoration.

“Yeah,” He sighed out, taking their cocks back into his grip and pumping them again.

“Do you mind if I sneeze on you?” Eddie asked, heart pounding in his chest. Steve’s cock throbbed against his own.

“Oh! N-No. I mean yes, please. On me, don’t turn away.” Steve managed, his whole chest flushing beneath the thick hair there.

Eddie’s cock throbbed as he brought the daisy up to his nose, feeling so excited he could hardly stand it. He inhaled the sweet scent of it, gently enough that the tickle built gradually, teasing both himself and Steve, prolonging the pleasure. At last, his nostrils gave a decisive twitch, flaring to capacity as the allergic tickle swelled beyond breaking point.

“Ohh, gonna sneeze! Fuck, yeah, mm’gonna-!”

Dropping the daisy and reaching up to grip Steve’s shoulders, Eddie let the tickly, teasing pollen overwhelm him.

"Hah'ETSCHH'Ieww!! ISHH'Ieww!! IESHHTTt!! Hah'ESHHH!! IGXSHtt-ISHhh-ISHh'iewww!!"

Like Steve requested, he didn’t turn away, more than happy to shower him with his sneezes as he had done in an embarrassing number of his personal fantasies. It always felt good to sneeze with his own hand on his cock – it felt even better in Steve’s grip, rubbing up against his solid prick. He didn’t particularly aim the sneezes anywhere, just let them do as they would – but he suspected they were going just about everywhere. Steve’s chest, neck, stomach – and most importantly, his cock. That last one he could confirm, his own cock throbbing each time he felt the aerosol of his sneezes rain down in a gentle mist.

Whether Steve had willingly timed his orgasm with the end of Eddie’s fit, or whether he simply couldn’t hold out anymore, the moment the last sneeze burst out of Eddie and onto his waiting skin he came with a shuddering moan. Eddie raked his fingernails down Steve’s back, gasping as he shuddered and pulsed against him, spurting in several long convulsions all over Eddie’s torso, some of his pleasure reaching far enough to paint white stripes over the metalhead’s chest. It looked – and sounded – like Steve was having an absolutely mind-breakingly good time, and Eddie’s own toes curled in response as his own climax lurched suddenly closer.

“Fuckkkk, Oh my god, Eddie,” Steve was moaning, trembling slightly as he came down from the heights of his high. Eddie squeezed his shoulders tightly in response.

“Steve, fuck me, I’m gonna cum!”

He was thrusting erratically, the extra lubrication of Steve’s orgasm facilitating the approach of his own, images of Steve’s face as he came, the sounds he made, the feeling of him shuddering against him all too much, his eyes screwing shut, and –

“Nooo, Steve, no!” He whined as Steve released both of their cocks, his own starting to soften post-orgasm.

Eddie swore, retracting his own hand from Steve’s back and reaching between his legs, only for Steve to pull it away by the wrist. He grunted in displeasure, looking up at Steve with accusatory eyes.

“Why’d you stop, man? I was right fuckin’ there.”

If a dick could frown, his would be doing so at that very moment. At least Steve had the decency to look apologetic, even as the afterglow of his own orgasm softened his eyes in naked satisfaction.

“Sorry, I just – I just thought you might want me to. Um. Return the favour? Since we’re,” Steve gestured with his hand, back and forth between them. “The same.”

It took Eddie a second, and then the realisation made his sensitive cock throb so violently he grunted with it.

“You’re offering to sneeze for me?” He asked, light-headed with anticipation.

“Yeah, if that’s something you’d want.”

Steve looked so shy, so fucking vulnerable, but his soft brown eyes were burning as they peered at Eddie, flicking this way and that, waiting for his confirmation.

“Steve, holy fuck –“ Eddie gripped him by the waist, squeezing him firmly. “That is something I want, like, 24/7, man. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life, fucking shit.” He babbled.

Reassured, and laughing a little breathlessly, Steve stood up, walking the few paces to the coffee table and reaching for a box of tissues. Eddie stared openly at his flagging cock, still half-hard and hanging in front of him. He needed to cum so badly it was agonising.

Steve repositioned himself over Eddie, straddling him in a way that was starting to feel to Eddie like one of the most natural things in the world. His hands reached instinctively for Steve’s waist, then wandered down to squeeze at his ass.

He watched, swallowing hard as Steve extracted a tissue and started to twist a corner of it into a long, tapered point. It didn’t take long for Eddie to understand the functionality. He smirked up at Steve, feeling a new kind of excitement rush over him; the evidence of the practiced way the younger man had shaped the tissue to no doubt tickle himself made it seem real, concrete that they really were into the same, crazy shit.

Steve smiled back at him, looking pleased with Eddie’s reaction but embarrassed all the same. Eddie would fix that. He would make it his mission to chase away that anxiety.

“I sometimes use this when I can’t – you know. Or when I just want to. When I’m alone.”

“God, Steve. You’re perfect.” Eddie sighed out, bringing Steve into a bear hug and letting the sudden feelings of immense fondness for Steve blend together with his arousal, an intoxicating combination that made his chest tight and his cock even harder than before.

Steve pulled back after a moment, kissing Eddie’s cheek sweetly. He held the tissue up in front of them.

“You want to do it for me? I’ll jerk you off.” He said, sounding excited enough it was as though he hadn’t cum his brains out moments ago.

“Yeah. Holy fuck, yeah.”

Steve reached down without hesitation, and Eddie had to fight from letting his eyes roll back in his head and cum the second those long fingers returned to his length. The skin of his cock felt tight, like it was going to split. Steve hesitated, then tilted his head back, just a little, so that he was presenting his nostrils to Eddie. The older man wasted no time in cupping Steve’s jaw with one hand and inserting the tissue with the other.

“Do I just, like – wiggle it around a little?” He asked, eyelashes fluttering as Steve started to pick up the pace on his cock. God, this would not take long.

“Yeah,” Steve said, “Or sort of – thrust it. It tickles more when you – HH-HAH!! Y-yeah, like that.”

Eddie swore, biting his lip as his cock pulsed, drooling over Steve’s hand in a pre-emptive spasm. He was tickling Steve’s nose – he was actively about to make Steve sneeze. He continued to move the tissue back and forth, gently prodding and watching Steve’s nostrils twitch and flare in response. To Steve’s credit, he was doing a wonderful job of squeezing and stroking Eddie throughout the tickling and teasing.

His chest started to jump with sporadic gasps, every single one threatening to push Eddie over the edge. It felt like he was burning up from the inside, like the intensity of his oncoming orgasm was simply too much for his body to handle and he would actually burst into flame. Steve’s nostrils flared, slackened, flared again as the tickle played with him. When Eddie prodded the tool as deeply as he could, that seemed to be the final straw for Steve. He gasped, a ruined, desperate sound of defeat as at last the tickle crested.

The sound of that final inhalation paired with the desperate look on Steve’s face and the expert stroking of his cock was too much. Eddie felt a wave of heat wash over him, holding him rigid for a moment, and then he was coming, so pleasurable he could barely make sense of it. He desperately wanted to watch Steve sneeze, up close and personal, just for him, but his head was tipping back in a silent scream as he convulsed against the couch. He trembled helplessly, unable to do anything other than fuck gently into Steve’s fist and grip the couch cushions beside him.

He heard Steve’s sneezes seconds later as they tore their way through him – as loud and desperate as he’d ever heard them – his whole body singing in pleasure as he continued to cum.

“HUHHH'RISSSHHHH'UUUU!! HAGKT'TISHHHHH!! AEESSSHHHHHUUUU!!!"

Each sneeze sprayed across his chest and stomach in a rush of warm air and cool aerosol, and the sensation was so erotic he felt his orgasm intensify when it should have been starting to dim. He reeled with it, spilling over Steve’s fist and his own skin, throbs of pleasure that seemed to go on and on. And then it was over, and he was melting into the cushions, no longer a person but molten liquid in the shape of one.

“Ohhh...Oh my god.” He managed after a little while, staring up at the ceiling. Steve’s face leaned into his line of vision, stupidly handsome as he smiled down at him.

“That good, huh?”

Eddie huffed a small laugh out at him, then squeezed his eyes shut as the endorphins overwhelmed him, threatening to make him cry. He felt Steve lean forward, pressing up against him and nuzzling into him. His shaky arms enclosed Steve in a hug. God, but he’d felt that nut right down to his fingertips. He felt like he’d jizzed himself into another existence. His body felt clean, detoxified.

“Eddie.” Steve muttered, face buried in his curls.

“Mm?”

“We’re both covered in cum.”

“Nice.”

“I’m getting a towel.”

“Too late.” Eddie giggled, feeling loopy and stoned.

“A damp one, to clean us up, dumbass.” Steve laughed, shakily standing up and batting Eddie jokingly across the top of his head.

“Oww.” Eddie said, even though he’d barely felt the whisper of the touch, and giggled again.

“Be right back,” Steve was saying as he walked out of the room, wobbling as though drunk, and Eddie waved him off.

He sat there, still staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to the universe. His body and mind were completely blissed out; every nerve was singing happily as he luxuriated in the afterglow, letting himself slowly acknowledge what the fuck had just happened to him. What the fuck he and Steve had just done, willingly, enthusiastically, even after he had fucked up so hugely.

He didn’t realise he’d dozed off until he felt the cool touch of a damp towel on his stomach.

“Here.” Steve smiled at him, urging Eddie to wipe his torso off as he did the same. Eddie managed it mechanically, still feeling more liquid than human.

Steve sighed and collapsed next to him on the couch, leaning his own head back and joining Eddie in looking up at the ceiling.

“We should shower, really.”

“We should.” Eddie agreed, but they both just sat there.

When Steve reached out and slipped his hand into Eddie’s, Eddie gripped him back, sliding his fingers between the younger man’s and squeezing softly.

“Hey.” Eddie said, rolling his head to the side and looking at Steve.

“Hey.” Steve looked back at him, glancing pointedly at his mouth, and then they were both kissing again.

“Go out with me?” Steve asked as they leaned their foreheads together, panting breathlessly.

“Yes.” Eddie breathed out, and Steve’s hands covered him all over again, and everything was electric.

~~~FIN~~~

And with that, Steddie are finally together 🥳

For anyone who is interested, this is the night club scene that is playing in the background whilst Eddie and Steve start having that awful little fight. Such inconvenient timing, honestly

[virtualvault]

Love You to the Moon and Back

Pairing: Moonknight System x Gn!Reader

Summary: The Boys are away for Valentine's day but they make sure to leave behind some thoughtful gifts to show you how much you mean to them.

Warnings: just fluff and a brief mention of the boys touching reader's butt at the very end (Just couldn't help myself)

WC: 1.2k

A/N: thought I'd try writing some fluff with valentines day around the corner. Enjoy :))

You awaken to a cold, empty left side of the bed. You rub your hand over the indent left behind and sigh. Being apart was hard enough, but on Valentine's Day especially, their absence was glaringly obvious. You knew they'd be gone, but it didn't stop a wave of loneliness from washing over you. You had spent the previous evening together, knowing they'd be gone for the actual day. You had worked late, so you only really had a few hours to cuddle on the couch and fool around a bit before you had to head to bed. You agreed to celebrate properly when they get back, but you don't want to endure the wait. All you want to do is wrap them in your arms and spend the day in bed.

Before the melancholy can completely consume you, your nostrils are filled with the scent of freshly made breakfast. You get up and make your way into the kitchen and are immediately taken aback at the sight. The counter is covered with an assortment of all your favorite breakfast foods. The quantity is impressive, and it looks like a little buffet.  Alongside the food there is a note that reads, 'Enjoy!' and informs you of fully prepped lunch and dinner in the fridge. You immediately know it's Jake's doing. He takes care of you in so many ways but keeping you well fed has to be his favorite.

 At the center of the counter, you notice a beautiful white orchid. You smile. That was surely from him as well. You had mentioned your interest in getting one a while back and his eyes lit up. He’s a plant dad through and through and he's been sharing his hobby with you, showing you how to nurture and care for a variety of plants. It initially piqued your interest just seeing how committed he is to them. His gentleness and attentiveness when it came to his beloved flora warms your heart. You noticed it mirrors his care and devotion for you.

 As your eyes scan the various plates down the counter, they land on a pink heart shaped cloche. You lift it to reveal a Swiss roll with hearts decorating the outside. This, you know, is from Steven. He knows you enjoy baking and he had asked you a while back to give him lessons. Now every time you step into the kitchen, he’s at your heels, soaking in all the knowledge you can offer. You’re quite impressed with his roll, something you didn't teach him, so you know he went out of his way to learn by himself. The thought of him venturing out on his own to learn how to do it widens the smile on your face.

 Alongside his treat, he also got you a teddy bear. The little name tag on the ribbon reads, 'Little Steven' and you giggle. Every time they come home you always mention to him how much you miss his cuddles and how you resort to snuggling up with their pillow as a substitute. You cherish that sort of physical intimacy with all of them but especially with Steven. Sometimes he'll read to you, or you'll just chat about anything and everything. Other times you just lay there in silence, completely enveloped in the warmth and love of one another. It’s a time for connection and to be present with each other. It brings you closer together not just physically, but emotionally and it's hard to go without it for extended periods of time. So, he decided to gift you something as a sort of place holder to snuggle up with until he can get back to you.

 As you reach the end of the counter, you notice Marc hadn't contributed to the buffet, but that comes as no surprise. Marc is a disaster in the kitchen. Whether it's cooking or baking, or even making a cup of coffee, he's completely clueless. Just last week he tried to make you Ramen and almost burned down the house. Although there is no treat from him, what he left you was better than anything you could have asked for. He wrote you a letter, expressing his love for you. He talks about how you hold a very special place in his life and his heart and how he is grateful for you every day. The note itself was touching and it made you tear up, but the gesture meant just as much. He had been the hardest nut to crack amongst all three of them. Jake was quicker than him to open up, which surprised you.

Marc had been very closed off, emotionally, but you understood. You had been very patient with him, not wanting to pressure him and push him away. So, you were determined to let him go at his own pace. This eventually started taking a bit of a toll on your relationship and you voiced that concern to him. Your gentleness and understanding was enough for him to feel comfortable to start to make the effort. He speaks about this in his letter, saying you help him be more in touch with his feelings and not just shoving them deep down inside and shutting everyone out.

 Through your tears you start to chuckle as you eye the homemade “coupons” that accompanied his letter. They ranged from offering a massage, a cuddle session, trip to the farmers market, picnics, and a few other sweet offers. These are all things he would more than happily do with you anytime you asked but the gesture was appreciated.

 As you go to grab a plate, your eye lands on a small black box that sits next to the teddy bear and orchid. Feeling like you already got more than you could've hoped for, you reach for the box hesitantly. You can tell it's jewelry, which isn’t your typical type of gift. You prefer just spending quality time with your boys. When you open the box, you let out a small gasp. It is a simple but beautifully delicate moon pendant on a thin gold chain. The box is engraved with, “To the moon and back”. Tears, yet again, threaten to spill from your eyes. You immediately put it on, and you feel so full of love, even in their absence.

 As you begin eating, you open the card they got you. It had a sweet inscription, “Sorry we can’t be here to shower you with love like you deserve, but we’ll make it up to you when we return.” It's very sweet but what catches your eye is what's written on the bottom of the card. The boys left their own personal 'P.S' and you giggle as you read each one.

P.S. “give that cute butt a squeeze for me” -Steven

P.S.S “and a slap from me"- Marc

P.S.S "and a bite from me…oh wait…guess I'll just have to do it myself *wink*”-Jake

 You’re still missing them terribly, but you’re grateful to have their sweet words and gestures to keep your heart full until they come home.