#This is one of the ones I keep coming back to like

[khioneee]

caleb won't ever let you go.

‘here’s what you don’t understand,’ caleb said, his voice low and steady as he stepped closer. his gaze bore into yours, unflinching, filled with an intensity that made your heart stutter. ‘i would live a thousand lives just to get to you.’

caleb’s hand came up, and he rested it against one of your cheeks, his thumb catching your lip. you swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat, but he wasn’t done.

‘i would die time and time again, dig out my own grave if it means i can come home to you,’ he said, his voice trembling slightly with the weight of his confession.

you just witnessed your heartbreaker break into a thousand pieces, the vulnerable side of him slowly unmasked, and you saw it. he looked so, so tired. he was all pale skin contrasted with harsh colours; his eyes were bruised violet underneath, his lips were chapped to a raw red, and his usual glowing irises were a dull, cold black.

his lips were so close to yours now that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. you wanted to push him away, wanted to move out of his grasp, but you weren’t strong enough for any of it.

‘if i can’t have you in this universe,’ he murmured, his voice barely audible, ‘i’ll make sure i’ll be there in the next.’

it felt like surrender to close your eyes, to let caleb touch his lips where he wanted, to let his mouth ghost your cheek, but you were tired of the battle. he must have felt the resistance give away, because he cupped his hand purposefully around your jaw and tipped your mouth up with a finger on your chin.

he paused, his breath hitching, before backing away just enough to meet your eyes fully. his gaze softened but remained resolute, holding a depth that made you shiver.

‘you belong with me,’ he said firmly.

your unsteady heart was about to detonate. you opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat as he added, softer now, gentler, as if he were speaking a truth only he could see.

‘you just can’t see it… yet.’

his words lingered, weaving into the air around you like a thread that couldn’t be broken. you wanted to fight it, wanted to deny him, but the conviction in his voice planted a seed of doubt in the walls you’d built to keep him out. and that terrified you more than anything.

caleb blinked at you. the storm had cleared in his eyes. he almost looked surprised to see you standing there. he put his cap on, his movements slow, deliberate, as if bracing himself to leave.

‘you’re not the same person i knew,’ you said suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper. the words spilled out before you could stop them, heavy and trembling with unspoken pain.

caleb met your torn stare as you observed him closely, trying to detect what it was that was currently going through his mind.

‘not the same,’ he repeated, shaking his head with a quiet, bitter laugh. he looked at you then, his eyes heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. ‘i still love you, don’t i?’

the words hung in the air, raw and piercing, cutting through whatever resolve you thought you had left. he turned slightly, as if to leave, but hesitated, his shoulders stiff, waiting for a response you weren’t sure you could give.

but he stepped away, disheveled and breathing hard, staring harshly at you. the look in his eyes was terrible. terrifying. then, as if the silence itself pushed him to speak again, his voice low but steady.

‘i’m the same person,’ he said, his gaze locking onto yours. ‘i’m just not willing to let you go this time.’

[tojipie]

˚ ✧ ────────

you’re 5 minutes into your first round and to be quite honest, you’ve never been more sure that fushiguro toji and his god given ability to dirty talk is something you’ll take to your grave.

you’d been with other guys before, ones with a nasty habit of running their mouths during sex. ones that’d grab you by the neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how tight you were, how they couldn’t wait to fuck you again.

toji is entirely different. nothing, and i truly mean nothing, compares to that old man when it comes to mouthing off in the bedroom. he’s formulating sentences you never thought possible, spewing stuff that would have you clutching your pearls and running for the hills any other given day.

you’re holding onto your composure by your teeth hearing him say the things he does, thighs and arms burning as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“take what you need pretty. uh huh, keep fucking me,” he chuckles, winding a fist into your hair to pull you back onto his cock when he notices you trying to crawl away.

you honestly don’t think you can take it anymore. if the way your guts were currently being pummeled into oblivion wasn’t enough, the way he’s talking to you right now has you in crisis.

it’s all too good, suspiciously good, and embarrassingly enough, you think you might be nearing your edge only 7 minutes after making it to his bed. your arms fail you as you try to crawl up the bed and away from the too-good feeling currently frying every wire in your brain.

“awww, you runnin’ from me?,” he laughs, letting your hair go to cage you in from behind, two solid arms settling on either side of your head.

your words escape you each time you muster up a response, eyes rolling back and he takes over again, shoving you face down and absolutely destroying that special spot tucked away inside of you. toji’s like a furnace, cooking you alive with the heat the radiates add his abs and chest.

“told ya you couldn’t handle it,” he teases, watching you writhe under him. “not with this dick.”

you feel something wet—a tongue you realize— traveling up the base of your spine and tapering off at your neck before solid teeth clamp down on the skin there.

okay, wow. fuck. you realize he’d lapped up the moisture settling in the dip of your back, licking the sweat from your skin like an animal.

“gonna let me taste every part of you? hmm?” he says in that too sweet voice you only hear when he’s teasing. he lets go of your neck with a pop to admire the bruise his bite leaves in its wake, sucking another one right under it for good measure.

you fall over the edge with no warning, so overwhelmed with pleasure that your mind and body continue to work separately.

the sound toji makes is beautiful. low, long, and guttural. radiating from the deepest part of his chest like a fan, and for a minute, you think he might be feeling the same overwhelming pleasure you are.

“ughh-hah don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers over and over, massaging the fat of your ass while your body flutters around him. you feel something viscous leak out of you, dripping down the seam of your heat and onto the sheets.

“when the fuck did you have time to cum?,” you finally muster. you don’t think you’d be able to move if your life depended on it, limbs sinking into the mattress like tubes of jelly. you really can’t move once you feel 200 pounds of laughing muscle settle on top of you, keeping you grounded like a paperweight on a measly little envelope.

“what, y’ quitting on all of this?” he laughs, gesturing up and down himself so you know just how irresistible he thinks he is. the worst part is that he’s right, just based off of how hard he’d rocked your world in the last 10 or so minutes.

you feel invigorated by some stroke of a miracle, pressing back on his still-leaking dick as a silent invitation.

“what, more? y’need more of me you little minx?” he laughs, grrriiiinding his tip right up against that fleeting spot you would have never been able to get to on your own.

and just like that he’s back to fucking you, pulling you into him like a toy at that same perfect pace.

“bite me hard if y’ want me to stop, you hear me?” he commands, shoving your face back into the pillows once he sees you nod.

[et6rnalsun]

SHOWIN’ WHAT’S MINE

rafe hates when you dare cover up one of the vulgar hickeys he leaves on your neck while he's deep inside you. he hates it with a burning passion, and would happily let them be permanent just to show everyone that you’re already his.

that’s why every time you do it, he goes crazy.

you climbed into his truck with a small sigh from the rush you had to make to be ready on time, and unconsciously ran a hand through your hair—an action that revealed your strangely smooth neck, without any marks. his blue eyes lingered on that detail as he leaned down to kiss your lips with narrowed eyes, his hand resting on your jaw. “hi, baby”he greeted you, returning your sweet smile with a small one. he couldn't look away from your neck, his gaze darting from side to side because he was pretty sure that somewhere there had to be a hickey he'd left the day before.

“you playin’ at cover up?” he teased, adjusting in his seat. he had no intention of leaving until he understood. you frowned at his words, tilting your head as you took in his uneasy and searching eyes, scrutinizing you like there was something wrong. “what do you mean?” it was a sincere and genuine question, totally lost.

his thumb moved up to trace along your skin, his tongue dragging along his dry lips. “there was somethin’ here yesterday, doll,” he reminded you, pressing a little harder on the spot. “how come it disappeared, huh?”

oh. you let a small giggle escape your lips, and moved your head to give him more room to continue whatever his accusatory touch was. “i need to cover it, rafe. my mom would be so fuckin’ furious,” you huffed, a small pout on your lips as it was the tenth time you’d reminded him of this in a month. “y’know i want to keep it, but it’s too visible” and it was true, the neck was such an easy space to look at, to notice every little detail. and you, your parents' sweet little girl, with a hickey? absolutely not. unforgivable. a painful scandal.

rafe clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head as he stopped touching your neck. “but i don’t care” his head fell slightly to your shoulder, snuggling into you with his arm around your waist. “i really, really don’t care. your mom would understand” his voice was muffled against you, and you could feel his lips dragging down.

“no, rafe, she would never understand. are you crazy? she’d give me a monologue about how i need to have more decency, and how girls my age—“ your monologue of words that he wasn’t even listening to was interrupted by the feeling of his teeth slowly sinking into your soft skin, making your eyes widen briefly in surprise. the sting was stronger as he moved his head to get closer, his mouth closing further around the chosen piece as he switched from biting and licking to straight sucking. “rafe” you tried to stop him, but your hand on the back of his head only pulled him more closer, betraying your words.

his lips, warm and slow, felt too good — with a deliberation that made you lose your train of thought. you felt the heat growing on your skin, a sensation that mixed neediness and the rational side and thoughts. but rafe’s grip tightened on you anyway, not wanting to stop, everything a contrast to the delicacy of the way he left those marks with his mouth, each bolder than the last.

only when he pulled away you took a shaky breath and you looked up at him with big eyes and red cheeks from embarrassment. “tell me it’s not what i think” you murmured in desperation, but his smirk spoke volumes as he finally looked at the sight he truly liked; your marked up neck, barely any normal skin in sight.

@secretlocket @waitforyrlove @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @sosasturns @zweigsangel @sturn777 @carvedtits @sweetestpoetic @sturniolossss @ilovedanielcaesar @jetaimevous @fallbhind @marrykisskilled @lacysturniolorevamp @mattsturniolover @slxtarchive @bluestriips @alesturniolos @rafespreciosa

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | there's always a first for everything

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @sonichkkaaascreams) : you are extremely playful, flirty, and teasing with your formula one boyfriend but when times comes to move to third base, you admit that you're actually quite inexperienced...

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : mentions of sex, first-time, suggestive themes ୨ৎ : word count : 5289

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was such a fun request to write ty!

ʚ・max verstappen

the atmosphere was filled with a faint hum of the harbor mixed with the chatter of distant parties, but all you could focus on was max beside you. he stood just close enough that his arm brushed yours, his piercing blue eyes locked on you with a sly smile tugging at his lips.

"you keep staring at me like that, verstappen… should i be worried?" you teased, nudging his side with your shoulder.

his laugh was low and warm, curling around you like the balmy night air. "worried? no. flattered? definitely."

you rolled your eyes, though your cheeks burned at the way he was looking at you. "you talk a big game for someone who's never beaten me at darts."

"that’s because you cheat," he shot back, stepping a little closer. his voice dropped, teasing but laced with something heavier. "but i’m pretty sure i could beat you at something else."

you raised an eyebrow, keeping your tone light even as your pulse kicked up. "like what? racing?"

he smirked, tilting his head as his fingers ghosted over yours. "i was thinking something a bit more… hands-on."

your breath caught, but you played it off with a quick laugh. "careful, max. you might actually scare me off."

"i don’t think you scare that easily," he murmured, his voice soft and steady as he leaned closer.

the teasing melted into something electric, the space between you shrinking until his lips hovered just over yours. when he kissed you, it wasn’t hesitant or rushed—it was deliberate, like he’d been waiting for this moment and wanted to savor every second.

his hands cupped your face gently, his touch tender even as the kiss deepened. you felt your heart pounding in your chest, heat flooding your veins. but as his hands began to drift lower and his lips trailed along your neck, you froze.

"wait…" you whispered, pulling back just enough to break the moment.

max stopped instantly, his hands dropping as he searched your face. "what’s wrong? did i—"

"no," you cut him off quickly, your cheeks burning. "it’s not that… i just… i’ve never done this before."

it felt clumsy and awkward spilling out, and you kept your eyes fixed on the floor, too embarrassed to look at him. "i don’t really know what i’m doing, and i didn’t want you to think…" you trailed off, unsure how to finish.

"hey," he said gently, his voice pulling your gaze back to him. his expression was soft, his blue eyes warm and understanding. "you don’t have to explain. it’s okay."

"i just didn’t want you to think i’m—"

"don’t," he interrupted, smiling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "don’t overthink it. there’s no pressure. we’ll go at your pace… or not at all, if that’s what you want."

you blinked up at him, your chest tightening at the tenderness in his voice. "you’re really okay with this?"

he brushed his thumb along your cheek, his smile growing. "more than okay. this isn’t a race, you know. and with you, i don’t mind taking my time."

a laugh bubbled out of you, easing the tension that had built in your chest. "you’re too good to me, verstappen."

"yeah, well," he said, his trademark cocky grin returning as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "don’t forget it. you’ve got the exclusive version."

you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face against his shoulder as your nerves gave way to something softer—something that felt a lot like love.

"thanks, max… i love you," you whispered.

"i love you too," he murmured, his arms tightening around you. then, his voice turned playful again. "now, let’s go inside before you start using this as an excuse to dodge another darts rematch."

you laughed, pulling back to meet his mischievous gaze. somehow, max always knew how to make everything feel right—like there was no place in the world you’d rather be.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you sat cross-legged on the plush couch, sipping wine as lewis leaned back beside you, one arm draped casually over the cushions, his other hand wrapped around his glass.

he was watching you again—that familiar, knowing smile playing on his lips.

“you’re quiet,” you teased, setting your glass on the coffee table. “that’s not like you.”

he chuckled softly, his voice low and smooth. “i’m just enjoying the view.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, flushing under his gaze. “you’re laying it on thick tonight, hamilton.”

“am i?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his grin widening. “maybe i just don’t say it enough.”

“sure,” you replied, trying to sound unaffected as you reached for a throw pillow to hug against your chest. “lewis hamilton, seven-time world champion, and suddenly you’re a poet too.”

he leaned forward, setting his glass down before turning his full attention to you. “you act like you’re not used to me complimenting you by now. do i really need to convince you i mean it?”

his voice softened at the end, and suddenly the playful banter felt heavier, more intimate. he shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours as his fingers traced light patterns on the pillow you were clutching.

“you’re impossible,” you murmured, though your voice wavered slightly, your defenses slipping.

lewis smirked. “you’re still here, though.”

before you could reply, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. it wasn’t rushed or insistent—it was patient, as if he wanted to savor the moment, to make sure you felt it too.

you kissed him back, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, his warmth grounding you as the world outside faded into the background. but as his hand slid to your waist and his lips moved to the curve of your jaw, you stiffened, pulling back just slightly.

“wait…” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

lewis immediately stopped, his hand retreating as he searched your face. “what’s wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

you swallowed hard, feeling a knot of nerves tighten in your chest. “it’s not you… i just…” you looked down, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “i’ve never done this before.”

it felt like the words were tumbling out of your mouth ungracefully, and you braced yourself for his reaction.

“you mean…” he started, his voice gentle.

you nodded quickly, your cheeks burning. “yeah. i’ve never gone this far, and i don’t really know what i’m doing. i— i didn’t want to disappoint you or make it awkward.”

lewis stayed quiet for a moment, and when you finally glanced up at him, his expression was so soft it made your chest ache.

“why would you think that’d disappoint me?” he asked, his voice calm and steady.

“i don’t know…” you admitted, shrugging as you looked down again. “you probably expected someone who—”

“stop,” he said, his fingers tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “i don’t expect anything from you, okay? this… you… it’s not about experience or any of that. it’s about us, and i’m not going to rush you.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his words. “you’re not… disappointed?”

“disappointed?” he repeated, shaking his head with a small smile. “not even close. if anything, it just makes this more special.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, the weight in your chest lifting slightly. “you’re really okay with this?”

“of course i am,” he said, brushing his thumb over your cheek in that impossibly tender way of his. “we’ll go as slow as you need to. and if you’re not ready, that’s fine too. i’m not going anywhere.”

your heart swelled at his words, and you found yourself leaning into his touch. “you’re too good to me,” you whispered, your voice trembling just a little.

lewis smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you deserve nothing less.”

you let out a soft laugh, the tension in the room easing as you rested your head against his shoulder. the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing calmed you, and for the first time that night, you felt completely at ease.

“i love you,” you murmured after a moment, the words slipping out naturally.

his arm tightened around you, his voice low and full of emotion as he replied, “i love you too.”

ʚ・george russell

george laid beside you, his long frame relaxed as he rested on one elbow, looking at you instead of the stars.

“you know, the view up there is stunning,” you said, pointing to the sky, “but you keep staring at me.”

“can you blame me?” he replied smoothly, his lips curling into that signature lopsided grin.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth from spreading across your cheeks. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i’ve been called worse,” he teased, his voice soft, almost like he didn’t want to disturb the quiet beauty of the night. “but it’s true. you’re impossible to look away from.”

you shook your head, laughing lightly. “you’ve got the stars and the whole milky way up there, and you’re wasting your time looking at me?”

“absolutely,” he said without hesitation, his tone sincere enough to make your breath catch.

before you could reply, george shifted closer, his hand brushing against yours where it rested on the blanket. the touch was small, almost imperceptible, but it sent your pulse racing. when his fingers slowly intertwined with yours, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim starlight.

he leaned in then, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft and careful, like he was testing the waters. you melted into it, your hand moving to his shoulder as the kiss deepened, his touch both gentle and grounding.

but as his hand moved to your waist, and the kiss became more intense, a wave of nerves washed over you. you broke the kiss, pulling back slightly, your breathing unsteady.

“wait…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

george froze instantly, his brows knitting together as concern flickered across his face. “are you okay? did i do something wrong?”

“no,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “it’s not that.” you looked down, chewing on your bottom lip as embarrassment bubbled up. “i’ve just… i’ve never done this before.”

his confusion gave way to realization, and he sat up a little straighter, his grip on your hand never loosening. “you mean…?”

you nodded, the words catching in your throat. “yeah. i’ve never gone this far, and i don’t really know what i’m doing. i didn’t want you to think i’m… i don’t know… weird, or inexperienced, or—”

“hey,” george interrupted gently, his free hand reaching out to tilt your chin up so you’d meet his gaze. “you’re not weird, and you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

you blinked at him, surprised by how calm and steady his voice was. “i just… i didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“disappointed?” he repeated, his lips twitching into a small smile. “the only way i’d be disappointed is if you felt like you couldn’t be honest with me.”

his words were like a balm, easing the knot of anxiety in your chest. “so you’re really okay with this?”

“of course i am,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “it’s not about what we do or don’t do. it’s about being with you. that’s what matters to me.”

your throat tightened at the sincerity in his voice, and you looked away briefly, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “you make it sound so simple.”

“because it is,” he said, his smile soft as he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple. “we’ll take things at your pace, okay? there’s no rush. and if you’re not ready, that’s perfectly fine too.”

you exhaled shakily, leaning into him as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. “how are you so perfect?” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i’m not,” he said with a small chuckle. “but i’m trying my best for you.”

you tilted your head to look up at him, your chest swelling with gratitude and something far deeper. “thank you, george.”

“for what?”

“for… everything,” you said softly.

he smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “you don’t have to thank me. i’m exactly where i want to be.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos laid beside you on the bed, propped up on one elbow, his dark eyes locked onto yours. the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered—sent your heart racing.

“what are you thinking about?” you asked softly, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

“you,” he said simply, his voice low and warm. a small, teasing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “always you.”

you laughed lightly, rolling your eyes. “you’re such a romantic.”

“i mean it,” he said, leaning in closer until his nose brushed against yours. “you drive me crazy, you know that?”

before you could respond, his lips found yours, slow and deliberate. the kiss deepened quickly, his hand sliding up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter.

carlos shifted, guiding you onto your back as he hovered over you. his kisses grew hungrier, trailing from your lips to your jawline, then down the curve of your neck. his hands slid to your waist, his touch sending sparks through your body.

you felt the heat between you building, the line between playful and passionate blurring. when his hand slipped beneath the hem of your top, a nervous knot tightened in your chest, and you froze.

“carlos, wait,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he stopped immediately, his lips stilling against your collarbone as he pulled back to look at you. his brow furrowed slightly in concern. “what’s wrong, cariño? did i do something?”

“no, it’s not you,” you said quickly, your cheeks flushing. you avoided his gaze, embarrassed, as you fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “it’s just… i’ve never done this before.”

the silence that followed made your heart pound even harder, but when you dared to look up at him, the worry on his face had softened into something tender.

“you mean… nunca?” he asked gently, his voice softer now.

you nodded, swallowing hard. “yeah. i’ve never… gone this far before. i didn’t want you to think i’m… i don’t know, inexperienced or—”

“stop,” he said, cutting you off gently as he cupped your face with both hands. his eyes searched yours, filled with nothing but warmth and reassurance. “don’t do that. don’t feel embarrassed about this. it doesn’t matter to me.”

“it doesn’t?” you asked, your voice shaky.

“no, cariño,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “the only thing that matters is you. if you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything.”

you hesitated, his words melting some of your nerves. “i want to… with you. i just… i don’t know what i’m doing.”

carlos’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “then let me show you,” he murmured. “we’ll take it slow. i promise. and i’ll make it special for you… the way it should be.”

your chest tightened, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his voice. “you’re sure?”

“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

he leaned in, kissing you softly, as if to prove his words. his hands moved carefully, his touch unhurried and deliberate as he coaxed you into relaxing. he spoke to you in whispers, his deep voice grounding you as he told you how beautiful you were, how much he cared about you.

every moment felt like it was filled with purpose—no rush, no pressure. he focused entirely on you, watching your reactions and pausing whenever you needed. the world outside faded completely, leaving only him and the warmth of his presence.

and when it finally happened, it was everything you could have hoped for—gentle, intimate, and filled with love. carlos made sure every second was about you, showing you just how much you meant to him.

you tilted your head to look up at him, your heart swelling as his brown eyes met yours. “i love you, carlos.”

his smile widened, and he kissed you again, slow and sweet. “te quiero más, mi amor. always.”

and in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you knew you’d never felt safer—or more loved—in your entire life.

ʚ・charles leclerc

the hotel room was quiet except for the sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside. the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silvery glow across the room. you sat cross-legged on the plush bed, your knees brushing against charles’s as he sat opposite you, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

“you know,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re staring at me an awful lot tonight. do i have something on my face?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile. “no, but you do have this annoying habit of thinking the universe revolves around you.”

he clutched his chest dramatically, falling back onto the bed. “mon dieu! you wound me.” (my god!)

laughing, you leaned over and gave him a playful shove. “get up, you drama queen.”

instead of sitting up, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down beside him, his arm sliding around your waist to keep you close. your breath caught as his face hovered just inches from yours, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“you like it,” he murmured, his voice dropping slightly.

“maybe,” you whispered back, your cheeks heating.

the playful teasing shifted as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft at first, then deepened as his hand moved to cradle your face. your fingers found their way into his hair, and the kiss grew more heated, his body pressing into yours as you lost yourself in him.

but just as his hand slid down to rest on your hip, you froze.

“wait,” you said, breaking the kiss.

charles stopped instantly, his brows knitting together as he pulled back slightly. “qu’est-ce qui ne va pas? what’s wrong?” (what’s wrong?)

you bit your lip, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were. “i… i’ve never done this before.”

his confusion was almost comical as he blinked at you. “you’ve never…?”

you nodded quickly, your face burning. “yeah. never. and i know it’s probably ridiculous at my age, but—”

“wait, wait,” he said, sitting up suddenly, his hand going to his mouth like he was trying not to laugh. “are you telling me you’re a virgin?”

“charles!” you hissed, swatting his arm, mortified.

“i’m sorry!” he said, laughing now, though his tone was more amused than mocking. “i just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. you, uh… you had me fooled.”

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “this is so embarrassing.”

“non, non,” he said quickly, gently prying your hands away from your face. (no, no) his grin softened into something more affectionate. “it’s not embarrassing. it’s… cute, actually.”

“cute?” you echoed, narrowing your eyes at him.

he shrugged, his lips quirking up again. “yes, cute. you’re like a little… how do you say… a rookie?”

“charles!”

“okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, though he was still grinning. “i’ll stop. but seriously, you don’t have to feel embarrassed. everyone starts somewhere.”

you couldn’t help but laugh a little, his lighthearted teasing easing some of your nerves. “you’re such an idiot.”

“but i’m your idiot,” he quipped, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

as the laughter faded, the room grew quiet again, the air between you shifting. charles’s hand found yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he looked at you, his teasing demeanor giving way to something more serious.

“are you okay?” he asked softly. “i don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

you stared at him for a moment, your heart swelling at how genuine he was. slowly, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was more confident this time. when you pulled back, your eyes met his, and you smiled.

“i’m sure,” you said firmly. “if i’m going to do this, i want it to be with you.”

charles’s eyes widened slightly, and then his expression softened into something that made your chest ache—in the best way. “you’re really sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“yes,” you said, your hand moving to cup his cheek. “with you, charles. only you.”

“you’re amazing, you know that?” he murmured, his voice thick with affection.

you smiled against his chest, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. “you’re not so bad yourself.”

he laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “so… do you think i will be good enough for your first time?”

“charles!” you said, smacking his shoulder, though you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped.

“what? i’m just asking,” he said, grinning down at you.

you rolled your eyes but leaned up to kiss him anyway. “perfect. you will be perfect.”

“good,” he said, pulling you closer. “because i'm going to be your first, and your last."

and with that, he kissed you again, leaving you with no doubt that you’d made the right choice.

ʚ・lando norris

the two of you were supposed to go to the team dinner, but after some poor excuses and convincing from lando (“come on, do you really want to sit next to zak while he lectures us on efficiency?”), you’d ended up here instead.

“you’re seriously telling me you’ve never seen shrek 2?” lando asked, his mouth half-full of pizza, his voice dripping with exaggerated disbelief.

you groaned, tossing a crust at him. “why is that so shocking? it’s not like it’s a rite of passage!”

“it is!” he shot back, dodging the crust with dramatic flair. “forget racing—this is what’s wrong with society. people skipping cinematic masterpieces.”

you rolled your eyes, unable to keep from laughing at his antics. “if you care so much, put it on.”

“fine,” he said, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the options. “but don’t say i didn’t warn you when your life changes forever.”

the movie started, but somewhere between donkey’s singing and your shared commentary, you ended up on the bed, legs tangled as you debated which animated character was the best.

“it’s obviously puss in boots,” you said, gesturing at the screen.

“no way. donkey carries the entire movie,” lando argued, his head propped on his hand as he looked at you, his dimples showing with every word.

“you just love chaos,” you teased, poking his cheek.

“true,” he said, catching your hand before you could pull away. his expression shifted slightly, his playful grin softening as his thumb brushed over your knuckles. “but i also like moments like this.”

the teasing reply you’d planned died on your lips as he leaned in, his nose brushing yours. when his lips finally met yours, it was sweet at first, a kiss that sent warmth flooding through your chest.

but then it deepened, his hands finding your waist as yours slid up to tangle in his curls. the kiss turned urgent, and soon you found yourself lying back, his weight shifting over you as his lips traveled to your jaw, then your neck.

your breath hitched, nerves suddenly rushing to the surface. you pulled back slightly, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

“lando… wait,” you said, your voice barely audible.

he stopped immediately, sitting back on his knees as he looked down at you with wide, concerned eyes. “what’s wrong? did i—did i do something?”

you shook your head quickly, sitting up. “no, it’s not you. it’s just…” you hesitated, feeling your cheeks heat. “i’ve never done this before.”

his brows furrowed for a moment before realization dawned. “you mean… like, never ever?”

you nodded, already feeling embarrassed. “yeah. never ever.”

there was a beat of silence, and then—lando burst out laughing.

you smacked his arm, your face burning. “lando! don’t laugh at me!”

“i’m not laughing at you!” he said between breaths, holding up his hands in defense. “i’m just—really? you’ve been holding out this whole time? that’s impressive!”

“impressive?” you repeated, glaring at him.

“yeah!” he said, grinning now. “i mean, i thought i was going to have to work harder for this! you’ve been playing hard to get.”

you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “this is so embarrassing.”

“hey, hey,” he said, his laughter fading as he gently pulled your hands away. “i’m sorry, i’m just surprised. but seriously—it’s not a big deal.”

“it feels like a big deal,” you muttered.

“well, it shouldn’t,” he said firmly, his tone softening. “there’s nothing wrong with waiting, and it doesn’t make you weird or anything.” he paused, a cheeky grin creeping back onto his face. “although, it does make me feel special. i mean, out of all the people in the world, you chose me.”

“don’t let it go to your head,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile.

“too late,” he said, leaning in to nudge your nose with his. “but seriously, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

you looked at him for a long moment, taking in the sincerity in his eyes, the way his usually goofy demeanor had softened. slowly, you reached out, cupping his cheek. “i’m ready. if i’m going to do this, i want it to be with you.”

his expression shifted, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into a warm, slightly shy smile. “you’re sure?”

you nodded, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “i’m sure.”

lando grinned, his dimples making a reappearance as he kissed you again, his movements more deliberate this time. “alright,” he murmured against your lips. “but if you get scared, you tell me, okay?”

“okay,” you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

as the night went on, the laughter and teasing faded into something deeper, more intimate. lando was attentive, gentle, and when he whispered, “you’re amazing,” it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the moment but about you.

afterward, you lay curled against him, his arm draped over you as the credits to shrek 2 rolled in the background.

“so… was it worth missing the team dinner?” he asked, his voice filled with humor.

you laughed, burying your face in his chest. “definitely.”

“good,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “because i don’t think zak would’ve let me live it down if i brought you back late.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

oscar had always had a way of making everything feel easy. no pressure, no rush, just two people enjoying the moment. tonight, though, the tension was different, something heavier in the air as his eyes met yours with a soft intensity that made your heart race.

"hey," oscar said gently, his voice calm but with an edge of curiosity. "you okay?"

you nodded quickly, but your mind was whirling. he had that effect on you—making everything feel so natural and comfortable, but tonight, you could feel the weight of the moment. his hand brushed against yours, sending a shock through your chest, and you pulled your hand back slightly, biting your lip.

"actually," you started, your voice quieter than you’d intended, "there’s something i need to tell you."

oscar’s brows furrowed in concern, and he turned to face you fully, his body shifting to mirror yours as he gave you his undivided attention. "what is it?"

you hesitated, biting your lip as nerves bubbled in your stomach. "i’ve never…done anything like this before."

there, you said it. the words felt strange, vulnerable as they left your mouth. you could see the surprise flicker across oscar’s face, but he didn’t say anything right away. his expression softened, and instead of pulling back, he leaned in closer, gently taking your hand in his.

"you mean…" he trailed off, searching your face.

you nodded, the embarrassment creeping up your neck as you avoided his gaze. "yeah. i’ve never really… i don’t know how to do any of this."

oscar was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke, his voice was soothing, soft. "it’s okay. really, it is. there’s no pressure."

his words were like a balm to the anxiety that had suddenly surged through you. you had feared he’d think differently, but instead, he seemed genuinely relieved, even protective.

"you’re not… upset?" you asked, still unsure, a tinge of self-doubt lingering in your chest.

"upset?" he chuckled, but there was no mockery in his tone—just warmth and reassurance. "not even a little. honestly, i think it’s kind of sweet."

you blinked, surprised by his response. "sweet?"

"yeah," he grinned, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "you don’t have to know everything all at once. i like that you’re willing to take it slow. it makes this… well, it makes this special."

a sense of relief washed over you at his words, your heart lightening. the idea that he wasn’t seeing you as inexperienced or “behind” felt like a weight lifted.

"you’re really okay with this?" you asked, still half-doubting yourself.

"of course," he said softly. "if anything, i’m happy. we’re going to take it at your pace. no pressure."

oscar paused, his gaze searching yours, and you felt his sincerity in every word. the nervous energy you had been holding onto slowly began to dissipate.

you finally met his gaze, his calm eyes locking onto yours as he moved even closer, his hand gently resting on your leg. there was something about the way he was looking at you—something that told you he was as in this moment as you were.

"i want to do this," you said, your voice barely above a whisper but firm. "if i’m going to do this with anyone, i want it to be you."

oscar’s eyes widened slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "are you sure?" he asked, his voice soft, almost uncertain despite the way his hand traced small circles on your knee.

you nodded, feeling your heart race in a different way now. "yes. i trust you."

the corner of his lips lifted, and he leaned in slowly, kissing you softly, tenderly. there was no urgency, no rush. just the quiet comfort of two people wanting the same thing in the same moment.

oscar pulled away after a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed deeply. "i’m really glad it’s with you," he murmured.

"me too," you whispered back, feeling completely at ease in his arms.

the moment continued, and while things didn’t escalate immediately, there was no pressure. everything felt right because you were together, and when you were ready, oscar was more than willing to take it slow, to make sure you felt safe, comfortable, and cared for every step of the way.

and when you finally reached that point, it was nothing like you had expected. it wasn’t dramatic or rushed—it was tender, affectionate, and everything you needed.

oscar kissed your forehead, his voice soft as he said, "you did amazing, you know that?"

you smiled, nestled in the crook of his arm. "i think we both did."

and in that moment, you both knew you’d take things as slow as you wanted—together, at your pace, with no rush.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[mggslover]

spencer and readers first fight ! can you possiblyyyy do something along the lines of spencer said something sassy/petty/mean which results in reader giving spencer the silent treatment and he crashes out begging for her to speak to him 🤓☝🏼

your first fight with spencer genre: slight angst, fluff word count: 1,7k a/n: i've been so excited to write this one! honestly way too long for a drabble, but i hope you enjoy it

“That’s okay. Your mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend a concept like this."

Spencer didn’t understand the gravity of his words before you huffed out a sigh, placing your hands on your knees as you lifted yourself up from the spot next to him on the couch. His eyes followed your body as you walked straight toward your shared bedroom, opening the door before shutting it behind you with a bang. The click of the lock echoed through the now silent living room.

Spencer sat frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the door as if you’d magically reappear in front of him.

Everything about your body language hinted at you being angry, but he couldn’t grasp why. He replayed the situation back in his head in an effort to decipher the reason.

You had cheerfully greeted him when he entered the apartment. He’d been away on a case for several days, not having had the time to speak to you over the phone or give you any updates on how he was doing.

As much as he preferred keeping clear boundaries between his personal and professional life, Spencer couldn’t resist telling you the details of some of his cases when coming home. Not when the psychology behind the unsubs fascinated him so much. And especially not when you eagerly pulled him toward the couch, pushing him down onto the soft cushions as you handed him a cup of freshly brewed coffee, ready to hear about his day.

You sat cross-legged in front of him, eyes twinkling with admiration as he told you about today’s case. He explained how he discovered a pattern in the way the unsub took his captives, using the numbers 11235 — the first five numerals in the Fibonacci sequence.

He noticed the frown forming between your brows as he got into more detail.

“Can you explain that to me? I don’t get it,” you asked.

“That’s okay. Your mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend a concept like this.”

Spencer wasn’t lying. He remembered how his coworkers had blankly stared at him when he analyzed his theory — how Emily made eye contact with JJ, their silent looks saying there he goes again, and how Hotch had to cut him off to tell him to get to the point. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to explain it to you, he just didn’t see the point in doing so, not when he knew this was a connection only he could understand.

After a couple of minutes, there was still radio-silence. Spencer got up and walked to the bedroom, knocking softly on the door. “Angel? Can you open up for me?”

“Just go away, Spencer.”

Your voice cracked, like you had been crying, and the sound made his heart sink.

“Please open the door so we can talk. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong?” Your scoff vibrated through the door. “I don’t even want to talk to you if you can’t understand what’s wrong.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his hands turning clammy. He didn’t like confrontations and especially not with you. You’d never fought before. Rationally, he knew fights weren’t necessarily a bad thing — conflicts usually stemmed from deeper fears and feelings that get triggered, and confronting these feelings could lead to creating an even stronger bond. But right now, all he wanted was to turn back time and make sure those words never left his mouth.

His mind blanked in situations like these, so the only logical fix he could come up with was to call Derek.

“Hey,” Spencer spoke through the phone, balancing the device between his ear and shoulder as he nervously paced through the living room.

“Hey man. What’s up?”

“I messed up.”

Morgan’s chuckle sounded through the speaker. “Our genius making a mistake. Who would’ve thought the day would come?”

Spencer sighed, losing his patience. “It’s serious.”

Derek paused before responding. “Alright, slow down. Tell me what happened.”

Spencer repeated the conversation for what felt like the hundredth time that day, his guilt accumulating with each repetition. He gulped when he heard Derek take a sharp inhale at the other side of the line. He could almost see him shaking his head.

“Okay,” Derek began. “Now listen to me. When it comes down to it, all women are the same, they just need some loving and appreciation. Go buy her some flowers before the store closes.”

Spencer didn’t need to be told twice. He glanced one last time at the still-locked bedroom door before heading out.

Thankfully, Spencer’s apartment was close to downtown. He hurried into the first flower shop that he spotted, his eyes scanning the bouquets until they landed on a pair of bright colored lilies. The outer corners of the petals shone with a radiant shade of pink, fading into a soft white at the center.

He cleared his throat as he placed the flowers on the counter. “Can I have these, please?”

The woman behind the counter started wrapping them in pink paper, reaching out for lint to tie a bow. “Trouble in paradise?”

Spencer blinked, not often experiencing someone seeing right through him. Besides his coworkers. And you.

“Ya know, I see so many men come in here on the daily. You can just tell they got in trouble with their lady; sweating bullets and rushing to pick a bouquet the second before the store closes.” She twirled the bouquet in her hand as she pulled on the strings of the lint bow. “At least you picked a nice one.”

“Do-,” Spencer hesitated, his voice softening in an uncertain whisper. “Will she forgive me after this?”

“Depends on what ya did,” she answered with a lift of her shoulders. “What I can tell you is that flowers don’t do much fixing.”

Damn it, Derek.

The florist turned around, rummaging through a drawer, before pulling out an envelope and sliding it across the counter.

“Write,” she stated in a single syllable. “We need words. We need to know that you care, and we need you to put more effort into it than paying ten dollars.”

With a new plan in mind, Spencer hurried home. The apartment was still silent when he returned, the door firmly closed and no signs of you having left the bedroom. He sighed and made his way to his desk, shoving aside piles of books and papers until he had enough space to write. He opened the envelope the florist had given him, and carefully pulled out a sheet of blank stationary.

My Lover Dearest,

It is ironic that I have read so much poetry and so many books in my life, and yet I cannot find the words to describe how much you mean to me.

Sometimes, I find it difficult to believe that someone as wonderful as you would want to be with me. That I’m allowed to deserve the love that you give me.

My mind works in strange ways, and as much as you’ve praised me for it, it can work as a curse as well. I am scared to overwhelm you, to talk your ears off (which would be a shame, because you have beautiful ears) to the point that you grow tired of me.

I never had the intention to cause you pain, or to initiate that you’re any less brilliant than you are. You are the brightest part of my life. I feel grateful every time I get to talk to you, and I would love nothing more than to explain any concept you’d want me to. I’m sorry for not having understood that before.

I love you. I love you. I have been wanting to tell you this in a special way, please know that I am not just saying this to ask for your forgiveness. I love you.

Sincerely, Spencer

The clock chimed 03.00 a.m. by the time Spencer finished his letter. His hand ached and he could barely keep his eyes open as he stumbled to the bedroom door. He turned the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. With a resigned sigh he slid the letter under the door and sat down against it. It didn’t take long for exhaustion to overtake him.

The repeated knocking of the door against his back woke him.

“Spencer?”

Your voice sounded like a siren, and he instantly scrambled away from the door, allowing you to open it fully.

You stood there, holding the envelope in your hand as your eyes softened when you glanced over him, mouth forming a small oh. “What are you doing here?” you asked in worry.

“The door was locked,” he answered, voice still hoarse from sleep.

A curse escaped your lips as you pressed your hands against your face. “I am so sorry. I must have fallen asleep with the door still locked.”

Spencer’s lips lifted into a small smile, relieved that you hadn’t locked him out intentionally. “It’s okay. Orthopedists actually recommend sleeping on the floor from time to time. Sleeping on a hard surface encourages a more natural position for your spine, which can reduce back pain. It even strengthens certain muscles, so the pressure on your body evens out. As a matter of fact, anthropological studies have shown that-”

He stopped mid-ramble, blushing when he noticed the faint smile tugging on your lips.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ll stop,”

“Don’t you ever stop,” you replied as you lowered yourself on the ground next to him. You reached for his hands, placing them into your lap.

Spencer’s blush deepened, and he struggled to suppress a grin. Your encouragement reassured him, and he went on about groups in Japan and Tanzania who experience significantly lower rates of back pain due to their minimal use of furniture.

“Spencer,” you gently interrupted after a while.

He blinked at you, seeing the gleam in your eyes as you adoringly stared at him. “Hm?”

“I love you too.”

[rafesweetie]

‎♡‧₊˚ boat days with rafe are always prissy!readers favourite days.

you loved them because it felt like the one moment rafe’s mind wasn’t elsewhere. usually he was a stressed, impatient man, but when he’d find the time to take the yacht out far and just park it there and soak in the sun with you, he was always happy.

rafe was doing his morning workout while you soaked in the sun that reflected from the water, a shirley temple in hand that rafe made you at the bar. peacefully content, your stomach rested on the longue chair as your back tanned, glowing from the tanning oil that rafe had applied for you while complaining about how oily it felt and how he was gonna have to wash his hands.

with a sigh when you realize your drink is empty, you call rafe’s name to get you another one — not in a bratty way, you just knew rafe was always glad to keep you content, so he would make you another, even if he did mutter ‘i’m not your fuckin’ servant’ every time.

he comes over, pausing his workout. “yeah, baby?”

“can i have another drink?” you ask, turning over to lie on your back so you can face him.

“yeah, i got you,” he takes the empty glass and makes you another shirley temple, then brings it back to you. “need anything else?”

“umm..” you try to think, biting on your inner cheek. “dunno if i really want tan lines, can you help me untie my bikini top?”

“this isn’t france, baby, can’t sit outside with your tits out,”

“do you see anyone around? we’re in the middle of the ocean,” you ask. “didn’t know you were such a prude, just wanna tan my chest,”

“m’not a prude. fine, sit up. c’mon,” he relents, and you sit up.

his big hands fidget with the little bow on your triangle bikini, untying both knots. “there you go,” he pats your shoulder. “gotta go back to working out, you good here for like, fifteen minutes? not bored?”

“i’m fine. thank you rafe,” you smile up at him, pecking his lips while he’s still crouched down.

he nods, giving you one last look with his pretty baby blues before turning to go to the back of the boat to finish his workout.

you spend a bit of time on your phone while you’re still sat up, taking photos of the water, and topless selfies to absolutely send to rafe next time he’s at the office, and take sips of your shirley temple. then you apply some tanning oil on your front and tan that side for a little while, putting in an earbud to listen to some lana del rey.

after a while, you’re overheatting, even with your drink. but thankfully, rafe is feeling the exact same way. he finishes his workout and comes back to you all sweaty.

“hey,” he breathes out, taking the earbud out of your ear and stealing a sip of your drink so he can get his breath back.

“rafe!” you whine, swiping your drink back.

“usually when people say hey, you say hi back,” he says sarcastically, teasing you. “anyway, c’mon, we’re going swimming, i’m hot as fuck and you’re coming with me,”

you nod and he helps you up. he takes you to the edge of the boat. “we’re gonna jump, you good with that?”

“nervous,” you admit, staring off the yacht and into the blue water.

“you’ll be all good. i’ll hold your hand,” he assures, grabbing your manicured hand. “on three,”

he counts down, squeezing your hand each time. when he gets to three, he jumps and pulls you with him.

the water feels cold and refreshing against your warm body. you can’t help but think that your blowout is ruined from the water, but rafe will pay for another one if it upsets you. giggling, you resurface, looping your arms around rafe’s neck, topless chest pressed against his. “that was fun!”

“yeah?” he can’t help the little smile that appears at your happiness. “c’mon, let’s go again,”

with an eager nod, he helps you onto the ladder at the back of the boat, and you grab his hand when he walks you to the edge again. he counts down again, and you jump. it continues like that for 7 minutes until you get chilly.

rafe gets you a towel embroidered with his name (of course), and leaves you to warm up in the sun.

at the end of the day, you’ve changed into a spare sundress kept below deck, because rafe is cooking dinner in the mini kitchen on the yacht. you watch him cook, drying your hair off with a towel, then recurling your eyelashes and putting your lipgloss back on that wiped away.

you sit down back outside, both of you eating your dinner as the sky turns into this gorgeous swirl of pink, orange, and yellow while the sun dips down.

with the golden hour highlighting every feature on your boyfriends face, the feeling of your wet hair soaking the back of the dress, and putting the most delicious food in your mouth, you’re absolutely sure you’ll never get sick of this.

“i think the water is gonna tarnish my necklace,” you tell rafe gently as you help him wash the plates after. your hand subconsciously fiddles with said necklace, the one that has his initial on it. rafe’s very proud of that necklace.

“well we can’t have that, yeah?” rafe smiles, putting his hands on your waist. “we’ll buy you a new one tomorrow, hm? real gold this time, no cheaping out,”

you smile and nod, and he kisses you in a way that’s gonna screw you up forever. being with him is like paradise.

[chrisstvrns]

𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦…

warnings: head under the desk, head while live streaming, swallowing cum, hair grabbing and light tugging, no use of y/n, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!! 

word count: 811 

based off of this request!

it had been nearly 3 hours since matt and chris started streaming. you had been napping for most of the stream, and you woke up an hour ago. and you woke up about 45 minutes ago. you were startled awake by matt screaming at chris for something, presumably something on the game they were playing, chained together. 

“okay, matt, im sick of this! can we play something else?” chris shouts, annoyed

“like what?” matt asks, groaning

“whats that game we used to play with justin? the escape room?” chris rambles, continuing on about how hes gonna text their older brother 

“okay, you get it set up, im getting water.” with that, matt turns his camera and microphone off, turning to you

you look at him with tired, sympathetic puppy eyes 

“you woke me up” you grumble, rubbing your eyes 

“im sorry baby” he whispers, walking over to the bed, wrapping you in a tight hug

“can i sit with you?” you murmur, clinging to your boyfriend 

“im playing the game, pretty. wanna sit near me?” 

thats when a smile crept up on your face, pulling away from the hug

“can i sit under the desk? its cozy down there, and im cold. the heaters right under your desk, matty.” 

“under the desk?” he questions, smiling “okay, sure. you can sit under the desk” 

you pull away from the hug, taking your blanket with you, crawling to sit under the desk. within a few minutes, matt comes back with 2 bottles of water, one for him and one for you. he turns the mic and camera back on, eventually joining the game with chris, going back to streaming and playing the online escape room. 

you rested your head on his thigh, your fingers gently toying with the strings of his sweatpants, periodically brushing your fingertips over where his dick would be. a few minutes later, you noticed a tent in his pants growing, and you smirked. 

you lift your head, repositioning your body on your knees, between his thighs. you stare up at him, smiling as you gently start undoing the strings of his sweatpants. 

as if on queue, he slams down on his keyboard, chris shouting

“matt! whered you go, what happened to your camera?” 

“uh, i dunno. must be something with your computer? i can still see me” he lies, looking down at you between his legs “can chat see me?” 

and immediately, chat floods with the answer: no. 

he smirks, his microphone still on as he gently lifts his hips, allowing you to pull down his sweatpants and boxers, his dick springing free and hitting your stomach. 

you smile, looking up at him as he continues to play the game. you take ahold of his cock, gently stroking him up and down, your eyes locked on his face as he clenches his jaw, still playing the game. 

you continue gently stroking him, periodically kitten licking his tip. each time, he slightly hisses, playing it off as doing something wrong in the game whenever chris asked. 

you stroke him a bit faster, his breathing getting more heavy and rapid, ending up in him shouting something out. 

“give me- give me head!” he shouts, his hand immediately flying to his mouth, eyes widening when he realizes he has the perfect opportunity to play it off. 

“chris, give me the statue head!” he states, looking down at you as you slowly wrap your lips around his tip, throwing his head back 

you begin to bob your head up and down, swirling your tongue around his swollen tip. 

he continues playing his game, one of his hands finding its way to your head, gathering your hair and clutching it, tightening his grip as you continue to bob your head, bringing him closer to his release. 

after some more bobs and gags, he nearly rips out your hair as he slams the microphone off, throwing his head back. 

“fuck, baby, m’so close. keep goin’.. yeahhh, just like that” he rambles, his eyes slammed shut 

“im cummin’, baby, fuck im cummin’” he mutters, his jaw slack as he shoots his warm release down your throat, bringing you to stop your movements. 

you smile, pulling off of him and swallow, wiping your bottom lip and staring at him. he reaches down, brushing his thumb over your cheek and gently pulling you up 

“youre fuckin’ gorgeous, baby. mine. my pretty girl.” he mutters, gently pecking your lips and pulling you onto his lap. 

you curl up into him, resting your head on his chest as he turns his microphone and camera back on 

“matt! there you are! whered you go?” chris shouts once his brother returns 

“sorry, man, something was happening with my system. technology shit, y’know?” he smiles, rubbing small circles into your thigh with his thumb as he holds the controller in the other hand.

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: im tired im going to sleep and scheduling this to post int he morning goodnight i love you all thank you for reading

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

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⋆˙⟡ tags: @lvrsturniolo @marrykisskilled @mattscoquette @emely9274 @wh0remikasas @mattsstarlet @pvssychicken @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @jvngle18 @sturns-mermaid @mattslolita @lolastrniolo @55sturn @oliviasthatgirl @hannahsturns @dykes4chris @y3sterdaysproblem @bernardsbendystraws @sturns-mermaid

[satellite-evans]

farmers market

Pairing: Harry Styles x pregnant!reader

Summary: Harry takes his pregnant girlfriend to the farmers market :)

Word count: 1k+

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Saturday mornings had become your favorite part of the week, especially now that you were six months pregnant. There was something about the air in the fall that made everything feel crisp, fresh, and alive. You breathed it in deeply as you and Harry approached the farmer’s market entrance, the golden sunlight filtering through the trees and creating a beautiful radiance on everything. The sounds of the bustling crowd, the chatter of vendors, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze all added to the charm. For you, this was the perfect way to spend the morning—slowly strolling through the stalls, picking out fresh produce, and taking in the delicious aromas that surrounded you.

Harry, on the other hand, loved watching you. There was a joy in your eyes every time you came across something that caught your attention—whether it was a basket of perfectly ripe peaches or a bouquet of wildflowers. He found himself smiling more, simply watching you enjoy the little things. Though his schedule was often packed with work, he didn’t mind these outings. In fact, he insisted on them.

"I can't believe you actually woke up early for this," you teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder as the two of you made your way through the market entrance.

Harry adjusted his sunglasses, his hand still wrapped around yours. He squeezed it gently before responding, "Hey, I have my priorities straight. You, our little one, and fresh strawberries."

You grinned at him. "I knew you were just here for the food."

"And the company," he corrected, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. He lingered for a moment, his fingers brushing your skin. "You sure you're up for this? We could’ve just ordered everything online."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "Harry, I’m pregnant, not fragile. I’m not going to break. Besides, I want to pick things out myself. You know how picky I get when it comes to cravings."

He chuckled, his hand gently resting on the small of your back, guiding you as you walked. "Yeah, I remember. The great pickle debacle of last month."

You groaned, covering your face with your hand in embarrassment. "Don’t remind me. I still feel bad for that poor store clerk."

"He survived," Harry teased, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face as you reached the first stall. "And now we have a whole shelf stocked with pickles at home. We're prepared for the next craving, love."

As you approached the stall, a burst of color filled your vision. Strawberries. Plump and bright, their sweetness practically radiated from the basket. You couldn’t help yourself. A soft gasp left your lips as you reached for a carton. "Oh my gosh, look at these strawberries! I need them."

The vendor, an older man with a wide grin and a straw hat, chuckled at your enthusiasm. "Good choice, dear. These are the sweetest berries you’ll find this season, grown just down the road."

Harry smiled at the vendor, then at you. "Perfect. We’ll take a few cartons, please."

The man winked at you as he handed over the strawberries. "Craving strawberries, huh? Must mean you’re having a sweet little one."

You laughed, resting your hand on your bump. "Seems like it."

Harry watched you carefully, his hand brushing yours as you inspected the fruit, a soft chuckle escaping him. "You know, love, if you keep eating them like this, our little one is going to come out looking like a strawberry."

You raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Should be no problem for you, since you only sing about fruit and... other things."

Harry’s face broke into laughter, shaking his head as he squeezed your hand a little tighter. "Alright, fair point. Guess we’re a perfect match then."

As you both moved down the market path, you spotted a stall selling honey, its glass jars glistening in the sunlight. Your eyes lit up, and without missing a beat, you tugged Harry toward it. "Ooh, fresh honey!"

The elderly woman behind the stand greeted you with a warm smile. "Well hello, dear! Looking for something sweet today?"

Harry wrapped his arm around you protectively, as if to shield you from the bustling crowd around you. He glanced down at you, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "She’s been craving everything sweet since she got pregnant," he said, his voice soft, his gaze lingering on you.

The vendor’s smile widened. "Ah, a little one on the way! Congratulations, dear. I’ve got just the thing for you—this wildflower honey. It’s perfect with tea or drizzled over yogurt."

You took one of the jars into your hands, turning it over in your palms as you inspected it. "We’ll take two jars, please," you said with a smile. You could already imagine the honey paired with some of the fruit you had bought.

Harry leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "At this rate, we’ll have an entire pantry of honey, jams, and fruit."

You nudged him with your elbow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Says the guy who could probably live off protein shakes and fruit."

He grinned down at you, leaning his head against yours for a brief moment. "Hey, fruit’s good for you. And clearly, our little one agrees."

As the two of you continued down the market lane, Harry remained ever the protector, placing a hand gently on your lower back whenever the crowd got too dense or people brushed by too closely. He made sure to stay close, watching you like a hawk as you darted from one stall to another, carefully selecting items that would satisfy your cravings. His protective nature seemed to grow stronger with each passing day, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of love in your chest every time he touched you.

You stopped in front of a stall selling freshly baked bread. You picked up a warm loaf, its crust golden and inviting, and breathed in deeply. "Look at this bread, H!" you said, holding it up to him. "It smells amazing."

The baker, a jovial man with flour-dusted hands, beamed at you. "Fresh from the oven this morning, love. It’s a market favorite!"

Harry inhaled the rich aroma of the bread and nodded. "Alright, we’ll take two. One for you, and one for the baby."

You giggled, shaking your head at him. "You’re going to use the baby excuse for everything now, aren’t you?"

He shot you a mischievous grin. "Absolutely."

Next, you came across a stand selling handmade baby clothes. Harry’s eyes softened the moment he saw a tiny knitted sweater. His hand lingered over the soft material before he held it up to you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this. Think our little one would like it?"

An elderly woman behind the stand smiled warmly at the two of you. "Oh, that one’s made from the softest wool, dear. Perfect for a little bundle of joy."

You felt your heart swell in your chest as you looked at Harry. Your voice wavered slightly. "I think they’d look adorable in it."

Harry’s fingers gently traced the top of your arm, sending a warm shiver through you. "We’re really doing this, huh?" His gaze softened as he brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. "Baby, family, all of it."

You smiled, your heart full of emotion. Resting your hand over his, you looked up at him with a soft, affectionate smile. "Yeah, we are."

As the morning wore on, your bags filled with fresh produce, honey, flowers, and baby clothes, Harry remained a constant presence at your side, his protectiveness never wavering. He kissed your forehead whenever you stopped to look at something, always keeping a careful eye on you as the crowds grew thicker.

You were about to make your way to the car when Harry glanced at the overflowing bags in his hands, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Think we went a little overboard?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "No such thing when it comes to fresh fruit."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "You and your fruit obsession. I’m telling you, if this baby’s first word is 'peach,' I’m blaming you."

You shot back with a laugh. "Alright, but if their first word is 'kiwi,' or ‘watermelon’ or ‘cherry’ then I’m blaming you!"

Harry pulled you closer, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "Alright, love. Truce. Let's go home and make something delicious with all this."

And as the two of you walked back to the car, the morning sun warm on your skin, you knew that these were the moments that would stay with you forever—simple, quiet, full of love and anticipation.

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Blood Moon (M)

★ PAIRING: Werewolf!Haechan x Vampire!Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 16K

★ GENRE(S): Smut, Angst, Forbidden Love, Dark Fantasy, Mortal enemies, Slightly melodramatic lol, Haechan is a real yearner in this.

☆ SUMMARY: Your boyfriend is in an accident that leaves him in critical condition. You wanted to be the one to save him, to turn him, but his best friend beats you to it. How will your relationship change now that you’ve become immortal enemies? ★ ☆ WARNINGS: Minor character death, mentions of grieving and loss, blood, mentions of torture, reader has a messed up backstory,dry humping, rough supernatural sex hehe, rimjob, cunnilingus, knotting, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, drug use in the form of pixie dust, Its freaky asl idk, mature, MDNI

☆★ NOTES: Might have got carried away on this one whoops. I love fantasy so excuse the lore but enjoy this porn with plot!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your heart was in the pit of your stomach. You'd always known this day would come eventually, but you'd been foolish to think you would ever be ready. The call from the hospital had come 10 minutes ago, and traffic crawled by like a sluggish beast. You wondered why you'd gotten behind the wheel, when you knew you were faster on foot.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the busy streets. Your veins thrummed with a restless energy as you tried to sit still. You would make it. You had to.

Your heels clicked against the tile of the hospital floor as you darted down the corridor, your head whipping in every direction for the room the receptionist had told you was Donghyuck’s. The scent of disinfectant and sterile air filled your lungs, but beneath it, you caught a whiff of something else – a faint hint of his presence.

Finally, your eyes found the room number, and as you approached the door, your gaze fixed on the whiteboard attached to it:

 Patient: Lee Donghyuck

As you entered the room, you didn't notice the strain in your shoulders or the way your breath caught in your throat until you almost yanked the door off its hinges. The bed was empty and cold, but his scent lingered. It hadn't been long since they'd moved him.

Your mind reeled with worst-case scenarios. You patted your pocket for your phone, but it wasn't there – you must have left it in the car in your panic.

You hear footsteps approaching, and they come to a stop outside the door. When you turn around, you see a nurse wiping the whiteboard clean.

“Where is he?” The harshness in your voice surprises you.

“If you’re asking about the patient who was in here, you just missed him. He was checked out a little while ago,” she replies, not looking up from her task.

You finally exhale, your legs growing weak beneath you as relief floods through you. He was okay. But then a flicker of confusion crosses your face, causing your slight smile to falter.

“Is something wrong?” the nurse asks, finally looking at you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just... his condition. I was told it was critical.”

The nurse nods, concern creasing her brow. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure he’d pull through. He was hit by a drunk driver. He broke several bones, and we thought there was internal bleeding. There should have been, at least.” She pauses, her expression turning puzzled the more she thinks about Donghyuck’s case.

“Where is he now? How could he just get up and leave after all that?” Panic begins to rise within you. He was human; you were certain of that. Humans don’t just bounce back like that, do they? Questions and doubts swirl in your mind.

“A few friends visited him about thirty minutes before you got here. One of them came to find me and said he needed to be checked out. I was just as shocked as you when I walked in and found him standing there, all his vitals normal. The doctor wanted to keep him for more tests, but the guys insisted on taking him home. Honestly, there wasn’t much we could do since he appeared fine.” The nurse shrugs, her confusion mirroring yours.

Just then, her pager buzzes, breaking the tension. “I’ve got to run. Sorry!” She glances at the notification before hurriedly excusing herself.

You start piecing things together, and the outcome doesn't sit well with you. You walk back into the room and focus. Your senses aren’t as sharp as usual, you’re due for another recharge soon. You sift through the scents in the hospital: sterile, metallic, but then you catch a whiff of something you missed earlier. It confirmed the nurse's story. They had been here.

Irritation bubbles up as you stride out of the hospital. You could leave a trail of fire in your wake with the heat radiating off you in fury. They had reached him first. They had taken him. You grind your heels into the pavement as you run. You’d worry about your car later; moving on foot is your best bet now. Better they didn’t see you coming.

The cold night air bites at your skin as you fly through the darkness, few cars passing you on the back roads. At this speed, they wouldn’t even catch a glimpse of you. The trees blur into shadows as you sprint toward your destination, buried deep in the forest. You split from the main highway to a side road, blocked by rusting barriers, stretching out for miles. its cracked and overgrown pavement leading to a half-built freeway that drops off into thickets of bushes and trees. No one comes this way; not many even know it exists. The only souls who dare venture down this path are high schoolers or college kids looking for thrills at night, chasing highs.

As you round a bend, your destination comes into view: a rundown motel, overtaken by moss and vines. It stands as the sole remnant for miles, until you reach the unfinished freeway. There's nothing else out here but forest. 

You slow your pace, taking in the scene; it feels like stepping back in time. The once flickering neon sign, long burned out, hung tilted above the entrance, and the peeling paint on the walls had seen better days. The only thing guiding you through the darkness is the moonlight and your own keen night vision. Without them, it would be pitch black—no lights for miles. 

Even before you see them, the smell hits you first: a wet, dog-like odor that makes your nose scrunch up in distaste. The moment you step onto the property, yellow eyes appear in the dark, and low snarls echo through the night. You’re in werewolf territory, and they’re just seconds away from ripping you apart. In an instant, you’re surrounded, their numbers closing in like a tightening net. Your own eyes flash red as you bare your fangs in warning, a growl rumbling in your throat. Teeth clash around you, spit flying as they display their own teeth.

“Where is he? I know you took him!” you shout, your voice carrying through the crowd. “I’m just looking for my boyfriend! I’m not here to fight!”

You took a gamble coming here unprepared. In the wild, they predominantly favored their wolf forms. The hairs along their necks and backs bristle, ears perk up, and they crouch low, ready to pounce. In this state, instinct reigns supreme; reason and negotiation was unlikely.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, preparing to unleash your own claws when a voice suddenly cuts through the chaos.

“Stand down,” an older voice commands as two familiar figures emerge from the pack.

One of the pack members howls, calling the others to attention. The wolf shakes violently, as if shrugging off water, before morphing into a human—a few others follow suit. The rest bound off into the dense forest.

“You shouldn’t be here. This is our territory,” the first transformed wolf says, a warning etched across his features. He stands before you, his human form unapologetically naked.

“Jeno, enough!” the old man insists, his presence commanding.

“She’s a vampire! She’s breaking treaty by being here without permission!” Jeno, points accusingly at you.

“He’s here, isn’t he? There’s no way you haven’t heard about the accident. He wasn’t at the hospital.” Your frustration boils over, almost uncontrollable. “You turned him into one of you, didn’t you? Answer me Jeno!”

He meets your gaze with a snarl at the mention of his name.

“I said enough! We don’t need to escalate this,” the old man interjects firmly.

“Dad!” Jeno says in disbelief.

“Follow me,” Jeno’s father commands, brushing aside his son’s fury with practiced ease.

You glower at Jeno as you follow his father deeper into the property. Your scowl is met with silent glares from the others, who stand in their human forms, their eyes watching intently. The chief has spoken. it’s clear—no one is to touch you.

You recognized Ten, Johnny, Kun, Xiaojun, Yangyang, and a few other familiar faces among the pack. Your boyfriend, Donghyuck, had grown up with them. His dad was friends with Jeno’s, so he and Jeno had played  together since diapers. They were the ones who had given him the nickname Haechan. You always hated how close he was to the pack. He always carried a trace of their scent and there was a time you were fully convinced he might be one of them.

Donghyuck had been blissfully unaware of the supernatural world around him. When he introduced you to a few of his friends one day, you had to fight the instinct to bare your fangs. That night had been tense and awkward. You had learned to play nice while Haechan was around, but the moment he left the room, you were at each other's throats. 

They guide you into one of the rooms. Despite the rundown exterior of the motel, the inside was meticulously restored, almost like an oasis in this forgotten wilderness. As soon as you step inside, your breath catches in your throat. The sight of Haechan makes your heart swell and break all at once. 

At first glance, he seems fine—lying on a bed in the center of the room, his chest rising and falling gently. Sweat beads at his temples, and his brows are furrowed in a way that sends a rush of alarm through you. A slight grimace crosses his lips, hinting at discomfort or pain making your heart sink.

"What’s wrong with him?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, fear creeping in.

“It’s part of the process,” Jeno says from near the door. “He’s adjusting. It’s a lot for him to handle.”

“Why would you allow this?” you target the chief. Jeno pulls you back by the arm before you can get to him, his claws digging into your skin. 

“He didn’t know! I did this,” Jeno interjects.

Your anger shifts to Jeno, a growl escaping your lips. “You,” you spit, eyes glowing red again. “You know the risk of turning him, and yet you still did it!”

“He’s my best friend! I wasn’t going to let him just die!” Jeno’s voice rises with frustration and pain. “What were you planning to do when you got there? Watch him die?” He laughs cruelly, which only fuels your fury. “You’re just mad I beat you to it.”

The air is thick with tension, and you prepare to lunge at him when growls break the silence from behind you. Turning around, you see some of the pack entering the room. You lock eyes with Ten, Johnny, and Jaehyun, their expressions unreadable but serious. You sense their protectiveness over Jeno and reluctantly ease your stance, frustration boiling over in a huff of air. “Ughh!” You clench your fists, willing yourself to calm down as your chest rises and falls harshly.

“What’s going to happen to him?” you ask, looking towards the chief.

“He’s going to change,” he replies, his gaze steady. “He’s taking the bite well. There shouldn’t be any complications, but he needs rest. He’s been through a lot today.”

“How long will it take?” You say. You move carefully to sit at Haechan’s side and brush the hair from his forehead.

“It varies from person to person,” He says, pulling your attention away from haechan. “It can be a few hours to a couple of days. But he’s resilient, and he’s strong.” 

You turn back to Haechan, your heart aching as you scan his form. The covers are thrown aside, exposing his chest, bare except for the sweat glistening on his skin. He looks different—his shoulders broader, muscles more defined, and his face sharper than before. He was still your Haechan, but you realize with dread that there’s one detail you’ll have to adjust to.

That smell. The unmistakable scent of a werewolf—stronger and more pungent than the subtle hint he carried before. He reeked of mutt.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Past

You hadn’t told Haechan you were a vampire. It was safer that way or perhaps you were deluding yourself, too afraid to face the truth. As a vampire, dating humans was frowned upon. Humans were considered nothing more than food, meant to be consumed or else they’d spoil. Vampires, on the other hand, were the undead, nightwalkers who defied mortality and the passage of time. You didn't age, and You didn't die. Vampires were superior to humans in every way. It was common manners not to play with your food but eat it. You had sworn you would never date a human. Loving a human was dangerous but despite everything you couldn’t stop yourself from loving Haechan.

There was an abandoned cemetery just outside the city where you lived. Cliché as it might be, you loved the cemetery; it was one of the few places you felt truly at peace. You often found yourself wandering there, even outside of your biweekly recharging rituals. 

Living amongst humans was difficult for most vampires, but those who tried had to make accommodations. Unlike some legends you could bask in the sunlight without fear of turning to ash under the sun or sparkling like diamonds. But there was a trade-off—when exposed to the sun, you were stripped of your immortality. You were the most vulnerable during the day. You’d still retain your speed, hearing, and agility, but you felt as fragile as a human. Many were terrified of this weakness, so they hid away until nightfall when they were the most powerful. 

At night you were untouchable. Not even a stake through the heart, garlic, or silver bullets could kill you. Still, prolonged exposure to the sun would gradually drain your energy, weakening you until you were left with nothing if you didn’t recharge. Bathing in moonlight was one solution, but the quickest way to recuperate your strength was resting in a specially inscribed coffin. That kind of sleep rejuvenated you, allowing you to regain your vitality and power.

You had stumbled upon an unburied coffin in that cemetery long ago and inscribed it with runes of protection and rejuvenation. It became your perfect charging station. Tucked away from the bustling city, it was very rare that someone came here due to the cemetery's extremely run down appearance.

You thought it was perfect. The quiet stillness allowed you to gaze at the stars, and it was beneath that vast, twinkling sky that you first met Haechan.

You had spent an entire day in your coffin, allowing the darkness to wrap around you like a comforting blanket. As you pushed against the stone lid, it slid aside with ease, and you sat up, yawning and stretching your limbs. Blinking a few times, you find the moonlight spilling into the  space and filling you with its magic. You bask in it as it dances against your skin. After resting you always got the zoomies, a few laps around the forest would do just fine before heading home.

Sliding out of the grave, you dusted off the dirt and debris from your clothes. Just as you began to shake off the remnants of your rest, a shuffle caught your attention a few yards away. Instinct kicked in, and your senses sharpened. The sweet, tempting scent of human filled your nose, and a smile crept across your face. You were starving and could go for a little snack, especially if some careless drunk college kid had stumbled their way here. You’d never understood why freshmen chose this spot to get wasted, but at that moment, you silently thanked whichever god had sent them your way. You were tired of dealing with the trash and beer bottles they left behind anyway.

You're naturally light footed so you don't have to sneak up on the hunched figure in front of you. Just as you were about to attack, a small sniffle stopped you in your tracks. You took a moment to observe the young man kneeling in front of a grave, fresh pink camellias in his hand. He was crying, and his tears sparkled in the moonlight as they fell, unknowingly watering the flowers. There was something ethereal about him, reminiscent of a fairy. For a moment, you could have sworn the flowers bloomed brighter with each teardrop, but perhaps that was just your imagination running wild. Taking a deep breath to better understand this mysterious figure. His scent confirmed he was undeniably human, tinged with a hint of canine—perhaps he was a dog owner.

You may be a creature of the night, but you weren't heartless. 

As you gazed at the young man, you couldn't bring yourself to disturb him while he was grieving. Your voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He jumped, startled, and clutched his chest with his free hand. "You scared me," a nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to calm his racing heart. "I didn’t think anyone else was here" he said, wiping his tears and clearing his throat. He gently set the flowers down beside him.

You offered him a soft, gentle smile and settled in beside him, your eyes drifting to the tombstone. "Who was she to you?" You asked, nodding toward the name etched into the stone. Your gaze flickered to his.

The young man stared at you, his mouth agape, his eyes wide with wonder. You couldn't help but giggle at his adorable expression – he reminded you of a baby bear, innocent and endearing. It's like he finally remembers you asked him a question and his mouth snapped shut, and he cleared his throat. His eyes refocusing on the grave and a fond smile spread across his face, and you could almost see the memories dancing across his features.

"She was my grandma," he said, his voice cracking slightly. You hummed softly, indicating you were listening, and he continued.

"She took care of me when my dad would leave on business trips when I was a kid. She got sick after I'd left the city, and I couldn't find the time to come see her... and now it's too late." Tears began to well up in his eyes. “She wanted to be buried by her mother but…” He trailed off. His eyes flit around the abandoned graveyard and its crumbling tombstones, their inscriptions faded and obscured by moss and creeping ivy. The path leading through the graveyard was overgrown with wild grasses hinting at years of neglect. 

You smiled, understanding where he was coming from. This wasn't the most ideal place to lay a loved one to rest anymore. 

"It's not your fault, you know. I'm sure you wanted to be there for her, and I'm sure she knew that too."

His eyes remained fixed on the grave as he traced the name engraved in stone with his fingers, a faint smile breaking through his sorrow. "Thank you," he replied, but you sensed it would take time for him to truly believe your words.

Suddenly, he turned to you with a new intensity. "I'm sorry I've been rambling about myself. Did you lose someone, too?"

His question caught you off guard. You had nearly forgotten that people came here to grieve, as you had your own reasons. You paused for a moment, scrambling to conjure a lie. But after the heartfelt story he had shared, you didn't feel that it was right to lie about visiting a loved one.

"I just come out here sometimes because it's quiet," you admitted, which wasn’t entirely untrue; sometimes the chaos of the city was overwhelming, and you needed a break from the noise.

Haechan looked at you as if you were crazy. "You're crazy."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. "I guess I am. But look," you said, pointing toward the stars. "They look so pretty out here."

His gaze flickered upward, captivated by the night sky. 

"That one's Ursa Major," you said with a smile. "It's my favorite." You reached out, taking his hand to trace the constellation. "Do you see it?"

"What's it supposed to look like?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"It's a bear! You see the Big Dipper? That's part of the constellation, and all together it’s supposed to resemble a bear." You released his hand and used your own to outline the Big Dipper in the sky.

His eyes lit up as he stared at the stars, and you found yourself captivated by him. The way the starlight shimmered in his gaze was enchanting.

"I see it!" he exclaimed happily, turning to share the joy with you, but when he looked back, you had vanished.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your skin was cold to the touch and you were gone so suddenly he had almost written you off as a ghost that night. He had nearly forgotten about that night until you appeared before him again. A month later, he saw you in the library, and he was certain you were real. 

After his grandmother's passing, Haechan had moved back home. He was entrusted with managing a significant part of her affairs, leading to weeks of sleepless nights spent sorting through her accounts and handling paperwork. Juggling family responsibilities and his classes at the nearby community college had left him utterly exhausted.

When he first saw you he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He rubbed his eyes tiredly but there you remained.  You were just down the aisle, and he hurriedly packed his things, eager to follow you. When he turned the corner just a few seconds later, you had vanished again. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I’ve gotta get some sleep,” he murmured, shaking his head as he pulled his backpack higher up on his shoulders, preparing to leave.

“You probably should,” you said with a smile, making him jump back in fright, letting out a startled yell.

A few patrons shush the two of you. “I’m sorry. I should really stop sneaking up on you,” you said, a playful grin on your face.

“You think?” he whispered back, but a smile finally broke through his fatigue. “So you really are real,” he mused more to himself than anyone else.

Your smile widened at his revelation, and you nodded.

“What's your name?” 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Present day

A week had passed since you'd last seen Haechan. You hadn’t gone back to see him and honestly you weren’t sure if you ever would. Dating a werewolf? It seemed even more complicated than a relationship with a human. Your mind was reeling, and you were still struggling to wrap your head around the reality of it all.

You sat on your balcony that overlooked the forest behind your apartment. Sipping hot chocolate and watching the full moon, you couldn't help but think of him. You wondered how he was coping with his first full moon. Having his first full moon so close to his initial change must be tough. With a sigh, you tried to shake off the thoughts. It would be safer for both of you if you stayed away from each other.

You moved back inside. You were walking into the kitchen to wash your cup when you felt a sudden draft as the wind blew in through the double doors leading to your balcony. You must have forgotten to close it all the way. You walked back over to close them, ensuring they were locked before returning to the kitchen. 

You freeze when you spot the ash-grey wolf standing on your kitchen island. You couldn’t suppress the scream that escaped your lips. How the hell had it gotten in here without you noticing? Your senses were dulled, and you knew you were due for a much-needed recharge.

You cursed under your breath, taking in the beast before you. Its yellow eyes glowed, and saliva dripped onto your kitchen island, making you recoil in disgust. This wolf was not acting normal. Its shoulder heaved as it took ragged breaths, almost rabid in appearance. You instinctively put your guard up, creating distance between the two of you. You couldn’t fight it—not in your current state.

As you slowly began to back away, there was something in the wolf's eyes that halted you in your tracks. It couldn't be him.

“H-Haechan?” you called out, bending your knees to appear smaller so as not to frighten him. You wondered how he had ended up here. He looked scared.

“It's me, Haechan,” you said softly, hands extended in a non-threatening manner. You understood he was running purely on instinct. Perhaps he had sought out a place where he felt safe.

Now you stood just in front of him causing him to growl and bare his teeth. His body was rigid, and his ears were flattened against his head. Every sign warned you to stay back, yet you ignored them all as you reached out to touch him.

In an instant, it happened. One moment you were standing, and the next, he had pinned you to the floor, his powerful paws digging into your shoulders. He snarled, but you remained calm. He couldn’t kill you but healing would take days in this state if he did enough damage.

You looked into his eyes and took a deep breath. “Haechan, you need to calm down. It’s me. If you don’t find control, you’ll do something you’ll regret.”

He growls in response.

“Donghyuck!” you yelled sternly. “Snap out of it!” You scolded him as his claws dug deeper into your shoulders.

He flinched and whined, stepping off you reluctantly. His head hung low, and his tail tucked between his legs as he made a small circle before plopping down a few feet in front of you.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you realized he had regained some sense of awareness. Keeping your voice steady, you knelt beside him and tentatively reached out. When he allowed you to get close, you gently patted him. “You need to change back, baby. I know you're scared, but you have to. You can do this. You're stronger than this,” you whispered reassuringly.

He stood up, and you did too, backing away to give him space. He stretched into a downward dog and shook himself off, and to your amazement, his body morphed before your eyes. Finally, the Haechan you knew and loved stood naked before you, looking horrified as he took in the damage done.

“I’m sorry.” 

Following his gaze to your shoulders, you smiled. “This is nothing; don’t worry about it,” you said, trying to comfort him.

He backed away slightly, shaking his head. “Don’t come near me!” he yelled, and you flinched. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he added, his voice softer this time.

Ignoring his plea, you walked toward him anyway. “You could never hurt me, love,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he sank to his knees. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t remember anything. Jeno and the others came for me and then turned me into… this.” He gestured to his hands, which hadn't fully reverted, his claws still bared.

Kneeling in front of him, you took his hands in yours. He tried to pull away, but your grip was firm enough to keep him in place. He looked at you in shock but before he could question your strength you spoke.

“Is that why you ran?” you asked gently.

“They turned me into a monster. How can I live like this?” His eyes searched your face for answers. Your heart ached at the fear reflected in his gaze. You felt a wave of shame wash over you; Jeno was right. If you’d gotten to him first, you would have changed him but that wasn’t what Haechan wanted. Jeno had acted selfishly, and so had you for even contemplating it.

“He was just trying to help,” you found yourself defending Jeno unexpectedly. Maybe you were subconsciously defending yourself. “You have to go back to them, Haechan. They’re the only ones who can teach you how to control yourself.”

“So I don’t hurt more people,” he scoffed, humorlessly. “How can you even look at me right now?”

“You’re not a monster, do you hear me?” you replied sternly.

“I AM! LOOK AT ME!” he yelled, his eyes glinting yellow as he finally found the strength to yank his hands away from yours. He stood and walked toward your room, rummaging through your drawer until he found a pair of pants he’d left behind. You stand in the doorway, watching him dress with your arms crossed.

“Haechan I'm fine,” you called out.

“Don’t lie to make me feel better!” he shouted back.

Frustration surged within you as you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your already healed skin. “LOOK!” you yelled.

He halted, his eyes widening as he examined you. Your skin was unmarred, untouched by his claws. He dashed toward you, grabbing your shoulders and twisting you this way and that, searching for any signs of injury. “Wha—” he stuttered. “How did you do that?”

Closing your eyes, you remembered your true self. When you opened them, they glowed crimson. “You’re not a monster, Haechan. Unless you consider me one too,” you told him.

His eyes widened in astonishment, but he stood rooted in place, shock holding him there. “What are you?”

You hissed softly, revealing your fangs. "I'm a vampire," you stated simply.

You could see the gears turning in his head as he connected the dots: why you were always so cold to the touch, how you could sneak up on him silently, how you exhibited unnatural strength just moments ago.

Finally, his body relaxed, and he sank onto your bed, looking lightheaded. “So you’re a vampire,” he repeated, almost incredulously, as if trying to grasp everything that had just unfolded.

“Yes,” you said, sitting next to him.

“And I’m a werewolf.”

“Correct again,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

“How old are you?” he asked next, genuinely curious.

You fought back a smile. “How rude!” you joked, shoving him lightly.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” he replied apologetically, running a hand down his face in embarrassment. “I mean, when did you become a vampire? Has it been a long time? Your family…” He trailed off, the gravity of the conversation settling in the atmosphere.

“They’re probably dead by now,” you replied, your voice softening.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the sincerity in his tone.

“It’s okay. I don’t remember my human years; most vampires don’t,” you explained. “I was 24 when I turned. The one who turned me was the closest thing to a father I had, and he was cruel.” You bristled at the memories of your past.

Haechan stayed quiet, allowing you to open up if you wanted. You took a deep breath before continuing, "He kept me locked away and taught me how to survive, but the punishments were brutal. I knew I had to get away from him eventually."

You told Haechan everything…

You don’t remember how you ended up there, but when you awoke that night, a man in his late forties stood before you. He had dark hair and striking blue eyes. Now that you’re older, you realize blue eyes belong to ancient vampires, beings that had survived since the dark ages. With a voice like dark velvet, he taught you how to harness your powers and you learned the art of inscribing. His teachings also instilled in you a deep-seated fear of the sun. He spun tales of scorched skin and searing pain, convincing you that to step into its light would mean certain death.  He taught you other things too, like to despise humans. He taught you humans were to never be trusted and that one day they would betray you.

He kept you locked away underground in an old tower, isolated from the world above. The room where you stayed contained only a coffin. You were tasked with maintaining the underground floors, ensuring they remained orderly. You weren’t allowed to venture beyond the floors beneath ground level. He treated you like a slave, proclaiming that you belonged to him in exchange for granting you eternal life. It was a twisted bargain that felt more like a curse. 

You had been above ground only once, it was a rare and seemingly indulgent gift from your master. He would normally bring you his kills to feed on but that night he had taken you out into the world, to teach you to hunt. It was exhilarating to experience the raw, primal instincts that surged within you. You hunted until dawn, the sun creeping up threateningly beyond the horizon.

The night had ended all too soon and you headed back home. You made it to the front of the tower, and just seconds before you were ushered inside, the sun rose, spilling soft gold and pink across the sky. You had caught your first glimpse of its light, radiant and breathtaking. It painted the world warm hues, something you had never seen in the cold tower. 

Your master’s hand gripped your shoulder. “We must return,” he said, his voice laced with authority as he ushered you back into the shadows. Since that one fateful night, you have never been allowed to see the surface again.

One night, curiosity got the better of you, and while your master was absent, you explored the tower. You snuck into the library and read until dawn. When the sun rose, you raced to the top floor and gazed out at the sunrise. You longed to bathe in its light, fully aware that it would be fatal. Your master had warned you that direct sunlight could kill you, only safe within the tower's shadows.

Everything changed one fateful night. You had taken a book from the library but your master returned sooner than you had expected. Despite the risks, you knew you had to return the book before he noticed. 

It was through the pages of his books that you discovered the truth. You were taught many things, but after reading his books how many of them had been true? The books told you stories about humans, the outside world, and important history. It revealed that while the sun wouldn’t kill you, it could weaken you, and that to regain any lost power, you must sleep. He had kept secrets from you, you couldn’t trust him. Maybe if you could escape, you could live among humans without fear? You’d never find out unless you returned the book. If your master discovered you had sneaked upstairs, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.

The halls were quiet, and slipping the book back into place was easy. You were making your way back, using an old passageway you had stumbled across, when a flickering light caught your eye. The corridor was lined with doors, each one leading to a different part of the tower. Peeking through a crack in one door, you saw something chilling.

Your master stood in the center of a gathering room, surrounded by chained and shackled humans. An entire council of vampires filled the room, and the sight of the horrific treatment inflicted on the humans made you nauseous. They were beaten and tortured cruelly. Their screams echoed in your mind, and that night, you swore to escape. The humans you had read about had their faults but they did not deserve that. 

You thought you had everything figured out until three days later, when your master visited with a human man around your age. He offered no explanation, only instructing you to take care of him. You soon grew close to the human, who introduced himself as Kun. He quickly became your only friend, sharing stories about the outside world and his family. For two years, he stayed with you, working alongside you as a fellow slave. At first, you worried that your master would eat him, as it wasn’t like him to let food spoil. Eventually you stopped worrying about it and just learned to enjoy Kun’s company.

You showed Kun everything: the hidden passageways, the library, and the sunset whenever your master was away. You promised each other that when the time was right, you would escape together.

Then one night, your master woke you from a rare period of recharging. He had previously insisted you slept. You found it strange but you hadn’t argued. There was no reason for you to recharge, you spent most nights watching Kun sleep.

You instinctively turned towards his cot but it was empty. Before you could voice your concern, your master ushered you out of your room and upstairs to the gathering room you had once watched from the shadows. Ancient vampires surrounded the area, their underlings present as well.

In the middle of the room was Kun. He was stripped bare, bruises, scars and welts were painted across his once beautiful skin.  

“KUN!” you shouted, trying to rush to him, but your master’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He had the ability to compel, a power only ancient vampires possessed. You had read that the only way to break it was to call him by his true name, a name you didn’t know since you had only ever addressed him as “Master.” 

“MASTER!” you screamed, desperation rising in your voice. “PLEASE, STOP THIS!” 

Tears welled up in your eyes and you could feel yourself die. You knew you were already dead but this pain in your chest would have been fatal if you were moral.

“You brought this upon yourself, foolish girl,” he sneered. 

The other ancient vampires laughed at your distress, their underlings at their side, made to watch to teach them what would happen if they disobeyed their master.

“Make her suffer!”

“Look how she cares for that wretched human!” one of them jeered.

“Kill them both!” shouted another.

They hurled insults your way while you trembled under your master’s control.

“Did you think I was a fool? I knew what you were up to. I could smell you in the walls, you little rodent.”

“Please, Master, I’m sorry! Forgive me!” you begged.

“It’s not me you need to ask for forgiveness. It is him,” he said, gesturing a long finger at Kun. “Because of you, this is his fate.”

With an audience of ancient vampires, he turned to them proudly and declared, “Nothing but ruin can come from loving a human. Witness now the consequences of defying tradition. Drink from him!” he ordered.

Your body moved against your will. You fought against his compulsion with every ounce of strength, but each step felt heavier. Standing before Kun, you could see that he was barely breathing.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” he managed to whisper. With the last of his strength, he smiled weakly. “Don’t let him break you.”

Tears streamed down your face as you bared your teeth and sank them into him. You could feel his life slipping away, and as you drank, your heart shattered in silence.

Later that night, you were thrown back into your room. You didn't move for months. Staring blankly at the wall, you cried until the hunger became overwhelming. Your master hadn’t brought you any food, likely leaving you there to die. You couldn’t let that happen; you had promised Kun. 

Eventually, you found a way out. You fled during daylight, running until you could run no more. You felt the grass beneath your toes and the sun on your face. You ran so hard you broke your ankle in the process but by nightfall, it had healed. You lived as a nomad for years until you rolled into the city you now call home. Adjusting to your new life was a challenge at first, but eventually, you met a city vampire who taught you how to navigate life among humans.

Haechan listened intently, not interrupting once.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of this sooner; it was easier if you didn’t know,” you confessed.

“I’m sorry you had to carry all that alone," he replied gently. "I promise, you won’t have to go through that again. We’re stronger now.”

“That's it though,” you began, gathering your thoughts. “We’re not strong enough. You need to go back to your pack, Haechan. You can’t come back here. There are rules, and we have to uphold them.”

“I don’t see why we can’t see each other. I know you’re afraid, but you can’t just push me away.”

"You can’t just do whatever you want! This isn’t a game, and those rules are there for a reason—to keep people alive!" You didn’t want to sound harsh, but the history between wolves and vampires was too complicated to explain right now. “The others are probably already looking for you. I can’t have a fight breaking out if they catch you here.”

“So that’s it? I’m nothing to you now?” Haechan stood up, frustration etched across his face.

“That's not—” You take a deep breath. “I didn’t say that. It’s just… complicated.”

You heard a howl echo in the distance, and your heart sank. “We don’t have time to talk about this. You need to leave. Now!” You turned and headed toward your balcony; it was safer for him to leave the way he came. He wouldn’t run into anyone and he could head straight into the forest. You swung open the doors, only to be greeted by the last person you wanted to see.

“Where is he?” Jeno demanded.

You sighed, trying to keep your attitude in check. “He was scared.”

“I don’t know if you’ve understood this yet, but he’s one of us now. You need to stay away from him. I’m running out of warnings,” he snarled.

Haechan rounded the corner and met Jeno’s gaze. “Jeno, relax! You know her,” he said defensively.

Johnny chimed in, “you don’t understand, just stay out of this.”

Haechan stepped in front of you, shielding you. “Guys, seriously! We’ve hung out together plenty of times. Why is everyone suddenly so defensive?”

“I told you, Haechan, it’s different now. New rules apply because you’re different. You’re part of their pack, and I’m a vicious vampire,” you replied, your sarcasm biting.

“Sorry, dude, but that’s just the way things are,” Mark added.

“This is so stupid! I didn’t ask for this life, and now everyone’s trying to tell me what’s best for me!” Haechan yelled, frustration boiling over.

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I know it’s unfair, love, but you have to go. I’ll see y—” You paused, stopping yourself from making any false promises. “Just… go with them, for me. Please?” You gave him your best pleading look, and slowly, he calmed down. Then he pulled you into a kiss. Neither of you wanted to pull away, but when he finally did, he turned away before you could see the tears threaten to fall. 

He walked toward Jeno and the others, but when Jeno reached out to put a comforting hand on Haechan's shoulder he shrugged it off with a low growl. They all jump from your balcony and when you look down below to where they land a pack of wolves stare back up at you before running off into the forest.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A year passed, and you hadn’t seen Haechan again. You were the one who had told him to stay away, but still, there were moments when you couldn't help but ask Mark about him. Mark was the most reasonable of their pack; you wouldn’t quite call him a friend, but you could manage more than a few words with him without the threat of a fight looming over you. The city was considered neutral territory, so running into a member of the pack while out and about was not uncommon.

“Mark told me Haechan is adjusting fine,” you shared with your friend Sooyoung as you leaned against your kitchen counter. “It took him a while, but he can control his powers now. Apparently, it took longer than usual because Haechan was still mad at them and refused to learn, but they’re on better terms now.”

“You’re living in a soap opera,” Sooyoung huffed, plopping down on one of your barstools, resting her head in her palm as she slouched over your countertop. “Are you really not going to see him?” she asked, lifting her head slightly.

“I can’t. I really can’t,” you stressed.

“Well then I’m tired of hearing about him,” she replied through a yawn. There were many myths about fairies, and one was that they couldn’t lie. While that wasn’t entirely true, they preferred not to, which made them incredibly blunt.

“Wow! What a great friend you are!” you said, rolling your eyes playfully.

Sooyoung straightened up a bit as you focused on making dinner for the two of you. “I’m sorry,” she whined, “it’s not that I don’t care; it’s just that you clearly still care about him. I can’t watch you torture yourself like this. As your friend, I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy!” you shot back defensively.

“Not if all you talk about is your stupid wolf-turned-ex-boyfriend that you miss!” she countered.

“I don’t miss him!” you insisted.

“Do you think about him?” she asked knowingly.

“I do,” you admitted.

“And I have to hear about it all the time, every day, every minute.” she pointed out.

“I'm sorry.” You cringed.

“Why don’t you just go see him? Just once, for closure,” she added, trying to be convincing.

“But what if he’s moved on?” The thought plagued you, an echo in your mind. “He hasn’t come to see me at all.”

“He has his reasons, just as you’ve had yours,” she reminded you. You considered this as you took the dinner off the stove and plated it.

“Let’s just eat,” you said, setting the conversation aside for now. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You could feel eyes on you from the moment you woke from your slumber. The scent was unmistakably his—Haechan. Rising from your grave, you sensed his presence pulling away, retreating into the nearby woods. You knew you should let him go, but you couldn’t. Sooyoung was right; maybe you needed closure.

You followed him. His figure dashed gracefully through the undergrowth, and moonlight danced off his ash-grey fur, illuminating the way. He eventually led you into a clearing, where the moon cast a spotlight on him before he turned to face you. With a shake of his fur, he began the transformation you had seen so many times before. It unsettled you how his bones shifted and reshaped, until he stood before you—bare and vulnerable, yet undeniably Haechan.

“Why are you here?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I missed you,” he replied, his eyes earnest.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I needed to see you,” he said, dismissing your warning. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

“That's enough!” you yelled, emotions welling up inside you.

“I know you’ve been asking Mark about me. I know you still love me,” he said, stepping closer.

“Stay away from me!” you shouted. If he came any closer…

“That’s why you followed me here. Admit it,” he pushed, standing a breath away. He searched your eyes, as if looking for the truth that lay hidden in your heart. “Admit it.”  He says almost like he's trying to convince himself as well.

You didn’t stop him when his lips met yours. It was a desperate kiss, and you found yourself kissing him back instinctively. His hands found their way around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest, as if he feared you would slip away again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him just as tightly. But before he could deepen the kiss, you pulled away suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowed as he reached out to pull you back into his embrace.

“You know what's wrong.” you managed to say, your mind racing. “We can’t.”

Haechan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “What’s your issue?! I can see it all over your face. You still love me; why are you fighting it? What are you so afraid of?”

“Losing you!” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks as you finally let the walls come crashing down. “You’re so damn stupid!” You closed the distance once more, pounding your fists against his chest. “Why couldn’t you just stay away?” 

He let you unleash your anger, waiting patiently until you had calmed down. Then, he wrapped you in his arms again, grounding you as your knees wobbled. You buried your face in his chest with a sob.

Haechan wasn't as ignorant as he was in the past. He knew the history between werewolves and vampires but eons of bad blood wasn't enough to keep him from you. He was fully aware of the dangers that came with being with you but he would rather die fighting for you than to do nothing at all. 

Vampires had a long history of hunting werewolves. They were the only creature that could rival their speed and strength. It was a sport, a display of dominance, to show that they were the apex predator. Treaties were signed but broken, territories marked, and warnings sent. Vampires and werewolves had learned that the best way to keep the peace was to stay far apart from one another. Most city vampires were progressive, they partied with elves, drank with werewolves, and got high off pixie dust. They mingled across species, but such alliances were frowned upon by the more traditional clans. Any love across species was seen as a betrayal, deserving of the fiercest punishment—blood spilled in the name of ancient grudges. You could be branded a traitor just for showing kindness to a werewolf.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, and you won’t let anything happen to me. We were together when I was human, and that was probably more dangerous,” he pointed out.

“I know, and I was selfish,” you admitted.

“Well, now it’s my turn to be selfish. Just let me see you,” he said earnestly.

“This is not a good idea,” you warned, but his pleading gaze softened your resolve.

He must have sensed your wavering will, as he pulled out the puppy-dog eyes. “Please,” he begged.

“Fine,” you said with an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

Just as he was about to celebrate and pull you into another kiss, you raised a finger to his lips. “But that doesn’t mean we’re dating! And the moment your pack finds out about this…” You gestured between the two of you with your free hand, “whatever this is, it’s done.”

“Deal,” he mumbled against your finger before you pulled it away.

You turned to walk away, glancing back over your shoulder before disappearing behind the trees. Haechan stood there, wearing the dopiest smile you had ever seen. “Stop looking at my ass, Haechan. Go home!” you shouted.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You and Haechan had been stealing moments together ever since that night. You found eachother in the dark corners of clubs, had picnics on abandoned rooftops under the moon, and shared intimate conversations beneath the ancient canopy of trees in the depths of the forest

Tonight you texted Haechan to meet you at an abandoned amusement park in the next city over. It took a few hours to run there, but you loved the freedom of it—being stuck in a car always felt so suffocating.  When you arrived you settled into one of the old, rusted teacups.  You heard rustling from the trees behind you and Haechan emerged in his wolf form, a backpack clamped between his teeth. When he shifted back to his human form, you instinctively looked away. The brief glimpse of his bare skin sent your mind racing with thoughts that definitely crossed the line of friendship. You reminded yourself for the hundredth time that you were just friends and friends don’t think about their friends like that. The sound of him unzipping his backpack and rummaging through clothes broke your train of thought as he started getting dressed.

“You can turn around now, darling,” he said, his voice teasing.

You hopped out of the teacup and ran right into him, relief washing over you. You’d missed him so much, and honestly, you didn’t even care that he smelled like a puppy—you buried your face in his neck.

“Hey hey, watch those teeth,” he joked.

You pulled away and playfully shoved him. “Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “How have you been?”

“Terrible. We took in a stray recently,” he replied, a hint of irritation in his voice. “His name’s Jisung. We found him while traveling. Total troublemaker, so they dumped him on me. Ugh, he’s been giving me a headache! I was lucky to sneak away tonight.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” you said, your voice playful as you both started to walk deeper into the amusement park. 

“No way! I was not like that! He’s just so moody sometimes, such a teenager,” Haechan replied, shaking his head.

“I forgot, you had a valid reason for being so angsty.”

“Yeah, she’s standing right in front of me,” he said, then playfully tickled your sides, making you giggle.

You and Haechan were in a good place now, able to joke about the past without any hard feelings. You cherished these moments together and loved being with him.

“How did you find this place anyway?” he asked as you passed a distorted funhouse, a shiver running down his spine. “It’s creepy.”

“Is my puppy scared?” you mocked.

“I’m not scared!” he insisted with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You skipped a few steps ahead before turning around to face him. “Oh yeah? And what if I just left you right here?”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Very funny, but I’m faster than you now.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged.

“Yeah.” He says confidently. 

“Race you to the top of the Ferris wheel then!” you exclaimed and took off.

You sprinted toward the Ferris wheel on the other side of the park, Haechan hot on your heels. As you dashed past a few booths, you grabbed some old, soggy plushies and hurled them at him.

“That’s so gross!” he yelled, dodging them with ease.

Determined to leave him in the dust, you picked up speed. You leaped over old concession carts and swung through the spider ride, with its twisting central column and spinning arms. With a laugh, you propelled yourself off its arms, feeling the rush of adrenaline. Haechan dropped down onto the car behind you before launching himself off to chase you.

“Catch up, slowpoke!” you called, glancing back as the Ferris wheel loomed closer.

Tension built in your legs, and you sprang forward, grabbing one of the metal bars of the ride and climbing higher. It was massive, and when you looked down, you were surprised to see Haechan close behind, springing off each bar with the agility of a cat. You swung from bar to bar, pulling yourself up and up. There was a car waiting at the top, and that was your goal.

As you climbed, you glanced down to gauge how far Haechan was, but he was suddenly nowhere to be seen. You froze for a moment, scanning the ride. 

Your breath caught—though you didn't technically need to breathe, the habit was hard to shake. From this height, he could’ve easily fallen and gotten hurt. Werewolves were resilient, but they weren't immortal. They could almost live forever with how slowly they aged, as long as they weren’t mortally wounded. 

“HAECHAN!” you called out worriedly. “THIS ISN'T FUNNY! WHERE ARE YOU?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the night.

Just then, a laugh rang out. “Who’s scared now?” He called down to you from the passenger car at the very top.

A wave of relief washed over you. In no time, you reached the top and stood on the outerrail of the car while he lounged in the seat. The sides of the car weren't enclosed, allowing you to lean in and meet his gaze with a glare. “I thought you fell!” You grumbled.

“Sorry, babe. Couldn't let you win,” he said, patting the seat next to him. “Sit down.”

You ambled into the car and sat down across from him. “Don’t be mad,” he smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come sit by me.”

You uncrossed your arms, giving up the act; it had been too long since you last saw him. You slid over, the seat snug but cozy enough for both of you. It was probably intended for moments like this—everyone knew that when you reached the top of the Ferris wheel you were supposed to kiss.

He nudged you playfully, and you met his gaze. “I was counting down the days until I saw you again,” he confessed softly.

You returned his smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “I missed you too.” He took your hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss to your palm, his lips lingering longer than necessary before he pulled away.

He intertwined your fingers and looked up to the night sky. “You can see The Great Bear from here,” he remarked.

Following his gaze, you noted how Ursa Major shone brightly against the dark canvas of the sky. “Have I ever told you the story behind that constellation?” you asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he shook his head.

With a grin, you turned to him, relishing the moment. “In Greek mythology, Zeus once fell in love with a nymph named Callisto. When his wife Hera found out, she turned her into a bear.”

“Sounds like something you would do,” Haechan snickered.

“Except I would turn you into the bear,” you elbowed him playfully.

“Oww!” he laughed, rubbing his side dramatically.

A comfortable silence settled around you as you enjoyed each other’s company. Leaning against him, you closed your eyes, letting the peaceful moment wash over you.

“I love you,” he whispered, a soft vulnerability in his voice. Sitting up, you looked at him, his expression revealing that he was about to say something that he shouldn’t. You could see the longing in his eyes, how he yearned for you. He still wanted more.

Before he could voice his feelings, before he could reopen the wounds you both had worked so hard to heal, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was electric, you knew you couldn’t say it out loud so you put all your love and heartache into the kiss.

His hands held the sides of your face firmly, anchoring you in place as he refused to let you pull away. With a fervor you had almost forgotten, he deepened the kiss, a low moan escaping him as your tongues danced together. It was a sound so full of desire it sent heat pooling low in your belly. You couldn't help the slickness that dripped into your underwear.

You found yourself whining into his mouth, and the low growl that rumbled from his chest only encouraged you further. You fought to maintain control, willing your hands to stay in your lap. You knew the moment you touched him you wouldn’t let him go. 

His fingers found their way to your waist and pulled you onto his lap. Your hands scramble to grip onto the rail behind him. The car swayed wildly with the motion of your bodies. A part of you tried to speak, to remind him that this was dangerous but he only pulled you back into the searing kiss in response. You didn’t complain when he started grinding you down against him, you had forgotten how well you fit together. You could feel his hard length pressed against you, and the realization made your head swim. You hadn't been touched like this in what felt like an eternity, and the sensation was overwhelming.

His hands began to roam your body, mapping out every curve. When he cupped your breast, a soft moan escaped your lips making him shudder. The world around you disappeared, and all that mattered was the way his hands trailed down your waist, gripping your ass possessively. The way his hips began to thrust up in desperation had you seeing stars. He held you there, utterly lost in the way you felt pressed against him. You gripped the railing tighter, your fingers bending the metal beneath your grasp. You had to stay in control.

You managed to whisper a single word against his lips, "fuck." His hand had trailed under your shirt, sending shivers of delight down your spine. But as much as you wanted to continue, the way the passenger cart was creaking was starting to worry you. You pulled away, using your strength to push his chest. You had him pinned, his back against the seat. For a fleeting moment, his eyes flashed a deeper shade of red, a hint of a growl forming on his lips, raw desire evident in his gaze.

You stood your ground, a playful smirk on your face. "Down, boy," you said with a raised eyebrow.

"This thing is old, it's too dangerous to stay up here. Come on, we need to get down," you said firmly, the reality of the situation snapping him back to attention.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” he replied, trying to mask his frustration with a hint of amusement. 

You sit still in haechans lap until the cart stops moving. When the cart slowly ceased its swaying you sighed in relief, grateful that the groaning of the rusted cart had silenced. However, just as you began to relax, a sudden crash startled you—the door fell off its hinges, clattering loudly as it hit everything in its path on its way down to the ground.

You jumped at the sound, heart racing, and exchanged a panicked look with Haechan. The spell of the previous excitement diminished, and you both burst into laughter.

“See what I mean?” he said. “This place is a death trap!”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of thrilling, don’t you think? A little dangerous excitement?” 

"You're crazy," he teased, helping you off his lap as you two made your way down.

“You loved every second of it.” 

You made it to the ground safely, and as you turned to Haechan, curiosity etched on your face, "Hey, have you presented yet?" you asked. As a golden-eyed wolf, Haechan held a neutral status, but it was possible for his eye color to shift to either red or blue once he presented - red for an alpha, blue for an omega.

He looked at you with a questioning expression, "No, why?" he asked.

You teased, "No reason, I just thought it would be cute if your eyes matched mine."

“Ah, like a couple's item,” he said, a grin breaking across his face.

“More like a friendship bracelet,” you corrected.

“Or like matching wedding rings,” he countered, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Like matching t-shirts,” you playfully curved him again.

His expression shifted slightly, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “You want me to be your alpha, is that it? Want me to dominate you?” His words hung in the air, full of just the right amount of flirtation.

You knew he was joking, but the way he said it stirred something deep within you. 

Desperate to regain your composure, you shot him a playful glare, trying to mask your reaction. "Very funny, Haechan," you replied, rolling your eyes, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you. The tension between you was thick, a swirl of playful teasing and underlying desire, and you both seemed acutely aware of it.

“Just imagine it,” he continued, leaning closer with mock seriousness. “Matched for life. You, me, and our golden-eyed offspring.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Keep dreaming.” Even though you tried to shake off the feeling, you could sense your face getting hot. 

 Noticing your reaction, Haechan's eyes crinkled at the corners, and he looked at you with a pleased smile. “Oh? You like that idea, huh.” He teases.

You stalked off, leaving him to follow beside you with a knowing smirk. "Shut up or I will kill you," you threatened, trying to mask your emotions.

"That's against the rules, you know that, babe," he tuts.  "Besides, I'd like to see you try. You vampires aren't so scary, you know."

"Another challenge? You don't get sick of losing, do you?"

"I won the first one," he shot back, a flicker of pride in his voice.

"I let you win," you replied.

A fire ignited behind his eyes. "You did not let me win."

"If that's what helps you sleep at night," you teased, pushing all the right buttons to rile him up. He was super competitive so it was easy.

He leaned in closer, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. "Okay, fine, you wanna play like that? I got a game for you. We have a few more hours before sunrise. You down?" The devilish smile on his face was one you knew better than to trust.

"Depends on what it is," you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.

"You think you’re faster and stronger than me, so let's put it to the test," he proposed, his grin broadening. "If I manage to rip your shirt off, I win. If you can evade me for a full hour, you win. Like that running man show we always watched." 

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. "What the hell? You just want to take my shirt off!" you argued.

"Then you better not let me catch you," he shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide the challenge that sparked within you. "Fine, it will be fun knocking you down a few pegs anyway." 

He gave you a minute head start, and without hesitation, you took off, the ground fading beneath your feet as you covered hundreds of yards in no time. The scent of pine and damp earth filled your senses, and with every stride, you pushed yourself to create as much distance as possible.

But even with your impressive speed, you knew you couldn’t hide your scent from him; the bloodhound instincts of a wolf would always lead him straight to you. You would have to rely on your speed if you wanted to win, there was no point in hiding. You listened intently to the sounds of the night, and soon enough, the heavy gait of Haechan, now in his wolf form, reached your ears. He was fast, closing the gap between you with each passing second. You continue running. You fly through the trees, running, jumping and swinging between the branches. You propelled yourself farther and farther, you had been running at full speed for 30 minutes just to keep him off your heels and it was starting to annoy you how easily he was able to keep up. You had 30 more minutes and you were sick of running. You had to outsmart him if you wanted to win.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you decided to lead him to the place where you knew you could gain the upper hand: the fun house. You had been there before, giggling and disoriented off pixie dust during a fairy rave.You got trapped in the funhouse for hours. 

You circled back, running until you were back at the amusement park. The giant tattered circus tent of the fun house comes into view and you look behind your shoulder to make sure Haechan was following. He was close, a few yards back. 

As you rounded the corner into the funhouse, you felt a surge of confidence. With your last burst of energy, you darted through the maze of mirrors, instinctively weaving and dodging obstacles while leaving your scent against every reflective surface. The idea was solid; if you covered the place with your scent, he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint where you were. You hid at the end and waited.

A soft growl echoed through the maze, and the sound of Haechan's frustration made you suppress a giggle. When he entered the mirror maze, it was as if the walls began to close around him, reflecting his struggling figure infinitely. You could hear him bumping into the mirrored walls and howling in annoyance. He's about half way through when he gives up and decides he wants to go back before he realizes he can't. He's too deep inside now and he's stuck. 

“Stuck already, big bad wolf?” you thought, grinning to yourself.

He lets out a howl when he bumps into another mirror. You have to hold in your laughter. Time began to slip away, and after about twenty minutes of him navigating the maze, he finally broke through to the exit. 

When he finds you waiting at the exit he speeds towards you. You curse under your breath, you only had a few minutes left now but you couldn't outrun him. You're able to get back to the forest, hoping the natural obstacles of trees and bushes might buy you the time you need but it doesn't. 

He charged at you, and with a yelp, he tackled you to the ground. You laughed uncontrollably when he shifted back to human, completely naked and utterly unbothered by his state.

The forest floor was cool beneath your back, the damp moss pressing into your skin as you struggled against him. It was chaos, a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter, one moment he was on top, and the next, you had somehow reversed your positions. The thrill of victory rushed through you as you caught his hands, using your strength to roll him onto his back while you straddle his waist.

A triumphant smile spread across your face as you taunted him, “Give it up. Only a minute left.”

His lips curled into a sly smirk, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. “I’m letting you win,” he insisted, echoing your earlier words with a gleam of defiance in his eyes. 

You leaned down, your hair brushing against his cheeks as you whispered in his ear, “Oh, is that why you’re under me? What happened to dominating me?”

 His gaze flickered, a flash of something feral erupting within their depths. Before you could react, he was moving—too fast, too strong. In an instant, he flipped you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. The other tore at your shirt, you gasped as he ripped your shirt from your body.

“Not so tough now are you?” he says, his smirk widening.  But there's a flicker of something else in his eyes as they roam down to your chest. “Looks like I win.” His voice drifts away, leaving a thick silence between you. 

You lie beneath him in the tatters of your shirt, your bra and a pair of low-rise skinny jeans. You can’t help but notice how hard he’s becoming against you. Your gaze trails over his exposed skin and lingering on the hard lines of his muscles until they reach his length. You bite your lip at how red the tip of his dick was. 

“I guess you did win,” you breathe out, your voice heavy with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the raw effort it takes for him to hold himself back. “But I think a victory like this deserves a prize.”

And then his mouth was on yours, fierce and demanding, stealing the air from your lungs. You moaned into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body against yours. Twigs and leaves tangle in your hair but you didn’t care. You needed him—needed this—more than anything. He broke the kiss abruptly to undress you, his lips trailing down your neck, teeth grazing your collarbone before sinking in just enough to make you gasp. A shiver ran down your spine as his claws pricked at your skin, trailing down your side before retracting, leaving only the warmth of his palm groping your breast roughly.

“Haechan,” you whimpered, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

He breathed you in deeply. “I could smell you,” he murmured, his voice raspy. “The moment you saw me, I could smell how much you wanted me. But you always want to play the good girl, don’t you? The rule-follower.” His lips found your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe as he added, “Want to act like you don’t like me… but look at you now.”

You whined again, your nails digging into his shoulders as his mouth moved lower, kissing, licking, biting—claiming every inch of your body as his. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t want him to be. His tongue traced the curve of your breast, sucking and teasing until you were writhing beneath him, begging for more.

He trails his kisses down your body until his head is between your thighs. He lifts your legs over his shoulders and got comfortable. You see it for certain this time, his eyes glow crimson. His gaze stays locked on you the entire time as he works his tongue between your folds, collecting your slick and slurping noisily on your juices. He sucks ruthlessly at your clit and you're no match for his strength when you try to close your legs around his head. His claws dig into the skin of your thighs as he holds you open. His tongue is so slick and he's basically drooling as he devours you. The entire lower half of his face is soaked. You throw your head back in pleasure and claw at the ground beside you. 

“Yes Haechan!” You moaned as your hips kicked up and grind against his tongue. You chase your release unashamed. 

You were always weak to his touch but there was something about him now that just made you want to submit to his every order. 

When he sat up, plunging two fingers deep inside you, you rode your high out on his fingers, your legs trembling with the force of your release. You lay there, spent and shuddering. Your legs are shaking pathetically when he sits up. The moon behind him shines its light down on him. He obscures the view enough for it to look like a halo above his head. 

The red in his eyes is nothing but devilish as he licks his lips. “Turn over.” He commands. 

You didn’t hesitate, rolling onto your hands and knees as he positioned himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, claws pricking at your skin as he pulled you back against him. 

He was everywhere—his hands gripping your hips, your hair, your throat—filling you completely, stretching you in ways that made your vision blur. Each thrust was punishing, driving the air from your lungs and drawing a symphony of moans and gasps from your lips. You were certain he would have broken you if you were human.

This was exactly what you had needed. You liked it rough, and in the past, while Haechan did his best to indulge you, he was afraid of hurting you. He didn't know you were a vampire; he didn’t know you could take it.

You could feel the same doubt begin to cloud his judgment as his touch became lighter and his thrusts shallower as he noticed just how rough he had been. In a sudden surge of frustration, you whipped your head back, baring your fangs to make it unmistakably clear what you were and what you could handle. “Do I need to remind you of what I am?” you hissed, your voice low and thick with desire. “Don’t hold back.”

The last remnants of his control snap, and he thrusts into you roughly. A heavy hand pushes your skull down into the damp moss while the other maintains the perfect arch in your back, elevating your hips as he fucks into you. Your eyes roll back, lost in pleasure as he mounts you, his hips snapping relentlessly against you over and over again.

His grip tightens, pulling you back to meet each primal thrust. He was treating you like a rag doll, and you loved every minute of it. It hurt good, the pain reminding you of what it felt like to be alive. 

With a fierce handful of your hair, he pulls you up, leaning down to press hot, wet kisses against the side of your mouth. His grip moves from your hair to your neck, his fingers constricting around your throat choking you. You smile up at him, your expression wild and hungry as he takes you. 

He was so deep, you could feel the delicious ache of him inside you, as if he were going to tear you apart. You haven't been to recharge so you know that the marks he left wouldn’t fade immediately. You wanted to admire the bruises on your skin for days, to remember him long after he had pulled away.

You don’t think there’s a single coherent thought behind his eyes, just a primal urge to stuff you full. He’s mumbling into your shoulder, biting the skin there before sinking his teeth in, and you whine, clenching down hard around him. His eyes roll back in ecstasy as he releases deep inside you, his body seemingly on autopilot, his hips continuing to thrust rhythmically as if driven by instinct. He pushes deeper and deeper, fucking you until the mixture of your combined release seeps out around his thick cock. With a violent shudder, you cum so hard your cunt pushes him out momentarily but he’s back inside you in seconds, helping you ride your high.

“Stupid puppy, fucked himself dumb?” you tease with a smile.

He's too far gone to register your insult. He pulls out, flipping you onto your side, sliding himself in between your legs, straddling one while throwing the other over his shoulder. He grips your thigh tightly and fucks into you again, still impossibly hard. You could never get enough of him. He hugs your leg as he thrusts, and you reach down, circling your clit, the pressure building again as his breath comes out in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good. I don’t think I can stop. Please, don’t make me stop,” he whines, the desperation in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You pull him down to connect your lips. The kiss is raw and hungry, filled with teeth as you try to kiss him but every thrust that jolts your body upward makes it difficult. You could feel yourself growing closer and you cum again, soaking his length even more. He follows soon after, burying himself deep within you as he releases his hot cum, his body twitching with the force of his release.

Hours slip by in the haze of pleasure, the sun beginning to rise by the time he finally pulls out. He’s out cold, and the fangs and claws that once decorated him are nowhere to be seen; he looks entirely human now, vulnerable and peaceful.

Whatever power he had, he’s completely drained himself of it. You’re spent too, but you gather just enough strength to stand. The sun is creeping higher and you have to get home before it fully rises, or you risk losing the last remnants of energy you have left to make the run. You consider waking him to say goodbye but he looks too peaceful. You prayed he would understand your reasoning.

Ultimately, you slip away, making it home just before the sun breaks the horizon.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The past couple of weeks have left you feeling rejuvenated, like there’s a hidden spring in your step that wasn’t there before. Sooyoung, your ever-observant best friend, quickly pieces things together. You haven't mentioned your encounter with Haechan at the amusement park yet—mostly because you know she would freak out and bombard you with a million questions. Honestly, you didn’t need your best friend knowing just how much of a slut you were for your self-proclaimed mortal enemy.

Sooyoung's knowing smile has been ever-present, and you glare at her from across the couch while she takes a sip from her coffee mug. “What?” you ask, feigning annoyance.

“Nothing. Nothing,” she replies, her eyes flickering back to the movie, but you can sense her amusement. A few moments pass, and, unable to contain her excitement, her gaze shifts back to you, her smile widening. 

“Okay, seriously, what is it?” you exclaim, shoving her playfully.

Sooyoung shrugs, taking a long sip before speaking. “That’s a nice mark you’ve got there on your shoulder. Who’d you get that from?” she asks pointedly.

Your expression falters as you realize that your shirt has slid off your shoulder, revealing the bruise he left behind, the one you had tried to cover with makeup. You curse under your breath.

“No need to be ashamed, girl. I knew the day was coming sooner or later!” she laughs. “But if you think you’re leaving without telling me what happened, you’re high off pixie dust.”

You bite your lip, a smile breaking through. Before you know it, you’re giggling and screaming, overwhelmed with excitement. Sooyoung smacks you lightly on the arm, her own laughter ringing out. “No way, tell me! He got you kicking your feet like that?”

You spill everything that happened and by the end of it, Sooyoung is standing up from the couch. “We need to go out! He broke your dry spell, this calls for a celebration!”

You playfully smack her on the butt as she turns toward the remote to switch off the TV. “Shut up,” you laugh.

You can hear the bass thumping even before you step into the old, abandoned church. City vampires know how to throw the best raves, and you’re not surprised to see half of the city’s paranormal packed inside. 

Sooyoung drops her cloak, her wings unfurling gracefully across her back as she shrinks down a few sizes. At parties like this, no one bothers to cloak. Within the weathered walls of the church, every supernatural creature is free to shed their human facades and embrace their true forms. You allow your eyes to gleam a deep crimson, fangs brushing your bottom lip as you lose yourself to the pulsating rhythm of the music. 

Hours slip by before you even realize it. The music here is enchanted—not so overwhelming that it would keep you dancing to the brink of exhaustion, but just enough to carry good vibes throughout the crowd. It also amplifies the high from the pixie dust, ensuring that everyone who joins in the dance has a good trip.

“I'm gonna go find a pixie! Want to come?” Sooyoung asks over the pulsating beats.

“Nah, I’m good,” you say, waving her off. She nods and heads off into the crowd while you make your way out back to get some fresh air.

Stepping outside, you spot a few couples making out against the building while others drift in quiet conversation. One familiar figure catches your eye. Jeno was leaning against a tree smiling at something on his phone.

Curiosity piqued, you walked up to him. “What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Looking after my pack. Why are you bothering me?” he replies, not bothering to look up.

“Just making small talk, you infuriating mutt,” you roll your eyes.

“Your boyfriend’s also a mutt, so how’s that make you feel?” He shoots back.

You glare at him, feeling a pang of irritation. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore,” you snap, afraid the wrong crowd might overhear.

“Right, that’s too bad,” he smirks, finally looking at you.

“And why is that?” you grit your teeth.

“You didn’t know? He presented. He’ll be going into rutt soon and he’s gonna need a mate if he wants to survive it.”

Your stomach drops. You didn’t need to ask what he presented as, it was obvious.

“You know, my dad’s been trying to find someone compatible with him.” Jeno says, an edge of satisfaction in his tone.

“And that’s probably going as well as it did for you,” you shot back. “Your sorry self is still alone. What, are you jealous that you'll have to jerk it solo during your rutt?” Venom laced your words.

Jeno’s smile grows wider, and he knows he's hit a nerve. “Don’t be too sad when he stops coming around. I warned you,” he says, shoulder checking you and heading back into the party.

You felt sick. If what jeno said was true Haechan would be looking for a mate to satisfy his rutt. Just like that your world crashes down around you. You go back inside and look for Sooyoung. When you finally locate her, it’s in the storage room, where she’s wrapped up in a makeout session with Renjun, a pixie you recognize as her casual fling.

“We need to go,” you insist, cutting right through their moment.

Renjun pressed a lingering kiss to her neck as she glanced past him at you, surprise flickering across her face. “Aww, but it was just getting fun,” she pouted.

“Well, I’m heading home,” you state flatly. “I don’t feel good.” Without waiting for her to pull herself from Renjun's embrace, you race home

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It had been days since you heard from Haechan; he wasn’t answering your texts or returning your calls. It was rare for him to be home anymore, so you weren’t surprised to find his place empty when you went to check on him. Had his rutt already begun? You cringed at the thought and quickly shook it from your mind. If he were in rutt, they would have found him someone to lay with by now.

You realized that constantly thinking about him was driving you crazy. You needed a distraction. You left your home and headed to the library, but all you could think about were those late nights helping him study within those four walls. You decided to visit Sooyoung, hoping she could take your mind off things, but  she had taken too much pixie dust at the last party and was still coming down from the high. 

There was only one place you knew where you could silence your thoughts. You needed to recharge. Maybe if you slept long enough, you could forget about what Jeno had told you, maybe even forget about Haechan.

It wasn’t until you reached the cemetery that you realized tonight was a full moon. If Haechan had truly gone into rutt, it would officially begin tonight. A wave of bloodlust washed over you as tormenting images of Haechan with someone else flooded your mind. Maybe he was right; perhaps you and Hera did share some traits after all.

You could become deadly when you were jealous.

You locked yourself in your coffin, fighting the urge to storm into werewolf territory and tear them all apart. They weren’t the only ones who became stronger under a full moon.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The lid of your casket slid open, and when you locked eyes with the person who dared to interrupt your sleep, a primal urge to rip his throat out surged through you.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey, wait!” Mark shouted, jumping back several feet. You rose from your coffin, the scent surrounding you immediately igniting a rage.

The last thing you wanted to smell upon waking up was mutt.

“What the hell are you doing in my territory?” you snapped, your voice icy cold. “This breaks the treaty, and I have free rein to murder all of you.”

You scanned the graveyard, spotting Ten, Johnny, and Yangyang standing several yards away. Jeno and Jaehyun were closer, but not close enough to be within your reach, unlike Mark—who was either brave or incredibly stupid for waking you.

“Guys, I told you this was a bad idea,” Mark whined.

“She likes you the most; she would have killed me already if I'd woken her up,” Jeno replied, arms crossed.

“You have five seconds to explain what’s going on before I use your hide to make myself a coat,” you threatened, your patience wearing thin.

“It’s Haechan! He needs you!” Mark exclaimed, hands raised defensively.

You dropped your guard. “What? What happened?” You asked, stalking closer and gripping him by the front of his shirt.

“He’s in rutt. We tried to find him a partner to help him through it, but he refused. He’s getting more and more agitated as the days pass, and usually, the rutt would be dying down by now, but it isn’t,” Mark huffed, worry etched on his face as he recalled the events.

That idiot—what did he think he was doing?

“Dad thinks he’ll drive himself insane if he keeps refusing his urges,” Jeno butts in.

“How long has he been like that?” you demanded.

“Three days,” Jaehyun spoke up. “As much as we don’t like it, he’s our brother, and we can’t lose him. You need to go to him.”

“You waited three days to find me?” you yelled, incredulous.

“We thought he would break eventually, but now he just becomes aggressive if an omega tries to come near him,” Johnny explained, cautiously stepping closer now that he was certain you wouldn’t try to kill anyone.

“Well, let’s go,” you said, preparing to run off, until Jeno stepped in front of you. “If you like your head being on your shoulders, I’d move.” 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? If he hurts you, he’ll never forgive us for bringing you to him in this condition,” Jeno continued, his concern evident.

You flashed him a confident smile. “Fully charged.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

This time, when you crossed into werewolf territory, the atmosphere was far less hostile. Jeno and Jaehyun led the way and eventually brought you into a secluded room where a heavy door stood, carved with symbols that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. You could feel the whispers of magic, familiar and foreign all at once. To the side, a hidden passageway led down a narrow set of stairs, the faint echo of your footsteps reverberating off the stone walls as you descended.

“You’ve been keeping him locked up underground?” you questioned, a wave of memories from your past life flashing before your eyes. 

“This is where we all go during the first rut. It can be dangerous,” Jaehyun explained. “The same goes for newly turned werewolves. If they can’t find control, the only way to keep everyone safe is to let them weather the storm down here.”

You finally reached a door at the end of the hallway. Jaehyun paused, the concern etched on his face deepening. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re asking,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Well, we’ll be out here if you need us. Just yell,” Jeno said. He handed you a key, it's cold metal feeling heavy in your palm.

The door loomed before you, heavy and imposing, its surface cool to the touch as you reached for the handle. You stepped into the room, and your heart sank at the sight of Haechan. He was lying on the bed, shackled to the floor, but the chains were long enough to allow him some space to move around. 

His red eyes snapped to you the moment you entered, studying your figure in the middle of the room. He was barely dressed, clad in nothing but a pair of briefs, and the covers beneath him were shredded to pieces. The remnants of furniture lay scattered around, completely demolished, and the walls bore deep, angry scars. Some looked like old wounds, while others appeared fresh, no doubt done by Haechan.

A sheen of sweat coated his tan skin, his hair matted to his forehead. Before you could process it, he was in front of you, moving faster than you’d ever seen him. If you had been any closer, he might have reached out to grab you. He thrashed against his restraints, hands straining towards you in desperation.

You weren’t afraid; there was no hesitation as you stepped into his embrace.

He pulls you close against his chest, his grip possessive and strong. He was burning like a furnace against you. “I missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost unrecognizable. “I’ve been waiting, holding on for you.” You can feel his arousal pressing stiff against your stomach. Your body reacts immediately to him, your nipples harden and you can feel yourself getting wet.

“It’s okay, let go,” you reassure him, using the key Jeno had given you earlier to unbind him. “I trust you.”

As the last of his shackles clatter to the floor, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he slams you against the nearest wall. He bites your lip before he rips your shirt down the middle, pulling away just enough to attach his mouth to one of your breasts, his other hand eagerly exploring your body. He humps at your leg pathetically, dragging his cock over the rough fabric of your jeans.

You fumble with your pants, realizing too late that you should have chosen something with easier access. His patience wears thin, and with a flash of claws, he impatiently rips the crotch from your jeans. The cold air immediately hits your wet core, and Haechan inhales deeply. He drops to his knees in seconds, shoving his nose deep in your cunt, he wanted to drown in your scent.

“Haechan,” you gasp, instinctively pushing his head away.

One of his hands grips both your wrists tightly, pinning them against your lower stomach as he leans in closer, inhaling your scent like it’s the sweetest perfume. You glance down to find him stroking himself, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He buries his face deeper, forcing his tongue between your legs. You can feel the tip of his tongue prod at the tight rim of your asshole. Heat rushes to your face as you try to close your thighs, but he pulls back only to bite your thigh in warning.

“Don’t fight me. You’re going to lose,” he huffs.

You shiver at his command, surrendering as you throw a leg over his shoulder. He instantly resets his focus, lapping at you while moaning in appreciation. 

“God,” he exhales, the muscles in his arms straining as he grips himself tighter, strokes growing rough and desperate. His eyes screw shut in frustration. “Not enough, I need you.” 

He manhandles you, turning you to face the wall and pressing you firmly against it. Your jeans cling uncomfortably to your skin as he grips your hips tightly. In one deep thrust, he’s inside you, and it feels like he’s rearranging your guts. He feels different from before—thicker—and you can’t help but rise onto your tiptoes with every deep thrust. You brace yourself against the wall, palms flat against the surface.

“You don’t know how bad I wished you were here. I needed you,” he grunts. His thrusts grow more aggressive. “Where the hell were you? Huh?” His grip tightens in your hair, forcing you to look back at him.

You whimper, brain fogging as he stretches you open. “I’m here, Haechan. I’ll always be right here.

You feel the familiar heat building within you, and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. “That’s right, baby. Give it to me.”

You come hard and he pulls out, dropping to his knees to lick deep inside you as he ate you out from the back. He wanted to taste every last drop of you and you would let him suck you dry.

You don't realize he's thrown you on the bed until you're staring at the ceiling, the tattered sheets beneath you. He crawls towards you, like a predator about to catch his prey. Gripping your ankle, he pulls you closer, ripping your pants off.  When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on his lips. 

He sinks back into you, and you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips against him, your nails raking down his chest as he takes you. 

“Mmh fuck.” He whines.

His mouth drops open in pleasure and you can tell he appreciates the way your pussy grips him. He looks like hes on cloud nine as he fucks you into the bed. You were exactly what he had been needing these past few days. You grip the hair at the back of his nape and pull. He moans breathlessly and his next thrust is so sharp it knocks you up the bed a few inches.

“Alpha,” you moan.

He grips your thighs, pressing them against your chest, holding you in place as he ravages you. The sound of the bed creaking fills the room with each thrust, the headboard connecting rhythmically with the wall. He doesn’t relent, his hand gripping your chin to make sure you’re looking at him. “Say it again.”

“Alpha!” you scream as he abuses your cunt. 

“You’re mine,” he growls, capturing your lips in a quick messy kiss. “Say it.”

“I'm yours, only yours.”

As he releases his grip on your face, he pulls your hair, making you watch as he thrusts between your legs. “Look at how you take me. So fucking beautiful.” He growls.

He quickened his pace, raw and desperate, and the bed shakes beneath you.

“Shit” you scream.  You dig your nails into his shoulder and take it. You cling to him, your breaths coming in short gasps as pleasure builds low in your belly. His lips find yours again, silencing your moans as he fucks you with an intensity that borders on pain. But it’s perfect—it’s everything you both needed.

You don't even get the chance to warn him when you come around him, clamping down impossibly tight. He fucks you into the mattress, unable to hold back and the bed shakes so forcefully it gives out under you, collapsing to the ground with a loud creak. He doesn’t look up, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t care.

He buries his face into your neck and chants your name. You could feel him swelling inside of you and he bites down hard onto your shoulder hips stilling as he spills into you. 

He rolls you on top of him but stays buried inside of you. Knotting you to make sure not a drop of his cum spills out. You take a look around the room, your shredded clothes lay haphazardly on the ground and the bed lies in splinters below you. You laugh breathlessly before snuggling closer to him.

“I'm sorry I was so late,” you say. “When they told me you were in rutt I thought you would take someone else.”

“Never. You’re the only one I want. The only one I’ll ever want.”

You smile, tracing patterns on his chest. “Good. Because I’m not sharing.”

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. He looks at peace, his eyes no longer clouded with desperation.

A loud knock echoes through the room.

“Haechan!” Jeno’s voice calls from outside the door. “If you're back to normal We need to talk. Now.”

Your body stiffens at his voice. You had forgotten they were out there.

You feel Haechan’s body stiffen as well, his grip on you tightening. “What is it?” he barks, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

“It’s serious. Dad found out about her being here. He’s ordered everyone to the meeting hall… including her.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It isn’t until much later that you and Haechan muster the energy to finally roll out of the bed, or what’s left of it. You find yourself dressed in his clothes, feeling a little shy. The walk to the meeting hall is quiet, but Haechan’s hand remains firmly intertwined with yours, offering a sense of strength and support.

At the head of the room stands jeno’s father, the pack leader.

 His eyes shift from Haechan to you, studying you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. You had assumed it was his orders that brought you here, but maybe not.

“You,” he says, his voice low and measured. “Come closer.”

Hesitant, you move forward, Haechan’s hand reluctantly releasing yours. The alpha steps down from his platform, circling you slowly. 

“Do you know,” he begins, stopping in front of you, “how rare it is for a werewolf in rutt to resist an omega’s scent? Even more so for three days?” His tone isn’t accusatory, it’s almost… impressed.

You swallow hard, unsure of how to respond. “I… I didn’t realize…”

“And yet,” he continues, ignoring your stammering, “he endured it. Refused every omega offered to him, tore himself apart fighting his instincts—for you.” He pauses, his gaze piercing. “Do you understand what that means?”

Your breath catches. 

“It means,” he says, his voice softening ever so slightly, “that you mean more to him than anything else. More than his instincts. More than his own survival.” He turns to Haechan, who’s standing rigidly nearby. “Isn’t that right, son?”

Haechan doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.” His voice is steady, unwavering. “She’s mine. And I’m hers.”

The alpha stares at him for a long moment before nodding, almost imperceptibly. Then, he turns back to you. “If one of my sons is willing to endure hell for you, then I can see no reason to stand in the way of this bond. I give you both my blessing.”

The room erupts into murmurs, shock rippling through the pack. But the alpha silences them with a single raised hand. “Anyone who challenges this decision will answer to me directly.” His gaze sweeps across the room, daring anyone to speak against him. No one does.

Haechan steps forward.  “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

The alpha nods again, his expression unreadable. “Take care of her,” he directs towards Haechan before turning back to you. “And take care of yourself. If this is the path you choose, then make sure you’re strong enough to walk it.”

You nod at him, still in shock as haechan picks you up off the ground in a tight hug.

Mark and Ten approach, clapping Haechan on the back. “Guess you’re part of the pack now,” Ten teases you playfully.

Jeno steps forward too. “Don’t think just because my dad likes you that I do.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Haechan’s neck. “It will be a cold day in hell before we’re friends.”

“Just ignore him,” Johnny says with a chuckle. “If the chief says so then you’re family. We’ve got your back whether he likes it or not.”

Jaehyun nods in agreement, a reassuring smile on his face. “If anyone tries to come between you two, you can rely on us.”

A smile blooms across your face. All the fear and worry you once carried begins to lift. You felt safe knowing they had your back.  Vampire or werewolf—let them come. You’re not fighting by yourself anymore. 

[anto-pops]

Envy's Grip - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: There was no field guide on how to handle your best friend coming back to life. But in hindsight, maybe keeping it from your crime lord boyfriend wasn’t the best course of action. 

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, miscommunication (kind of), a sprinkle of jealous Sylus (or as jealous as he can be, he knows he's fine)

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3

Sylus was perceptive. 

It wasn’t a new trait, by any means. He had always been annoyingly aware of everything. Sometimes it seemed like he knew your own thoughts before you voiced them– though he insisted you were just easy to read and that it had nothing to do with him using his Evol to his advantage. Now was one of those times where you could tell he was scrutinizing you from afar, having picked up on the influx of emotions that overwhelmed your mind and left your body tense. 

Caleb was alive. 

The revelation had left you breathless– utterly at a loss for words as you had stared at him standing before you whole and well. Well, almost whole. The mechanical arm had thrown you for a loop, but it was his eyes that had broken down the wall of doubt between the two of you. Those bright, violet irises silently conveyed a lifetime of emotion that told you then and there that somehow, someway, your childhood friend was back from the dead. 

How the hell were you supposed to go about your day after discovering something like that? 

When Sylus had asked you the day after what had you looking so dreary, you had waved off his concern with a lie. “There’s a mandatory work meeting next weekend. All my plans with Tara are ruined.” 

He had furrowed his brow at that statement, evidently confused as to why he hadn’t heard anything about your weekend plans up until that moment. You were terrible at lying, and it felt awful to do it– especially with Sylus. You had just prayed that he would overlook your nervous behavior and let you get away with it. 

That same day, Sylus’ eyes had narrowed during lunch while you’d chewed your own nails off in favor of the roast he had cooked for the two of you, but you had done your best to play off the anxious habit as something else work related. Then you had jumped– actually jumped– when he’d walked into the living room while you’d zoned out staring at a wall, his sudden presence jerking you back to the present with your heart hammering and your eyes wide. 

“You need to wear a bell,” was all you had said when he’d asked why you were so jumpy. His lips had pursed while he’d worked a muscle in his jaw, opting to keep his innermost thoughts to himself. 

Then there was right now; your form was sloppy, and your shoulder was aching from the lack of control you threw your punches with. The boxing bag hanging from the ceiling of Sylus’ home gym swayed towards you listlessly, the lack of power in your attacks barely causing the chain to rattle the way it normally would. Using your gloved hand, you halted the bag’s momentum, your chest heaving as you drew in deep, steadying breaths to ground yourself. The sweat that dripped down your temples chilled your otherwise heated skin, and you hastily wiped the moisture away using the back of your forearm before swallowing thickly. 

You were a mess.

As you turned to make your way to the edge of the ring for your water bottle, Sylus tracked your movements with predatory-like precision. He didn’t blink, didn’t shift from his spot against the wall. It hardly looked like he was even breathing. The floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the entirety of the gym clued you in on the dark expression that crossed his face the second you turned your back to him, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the air vent overhead snaked its way down your spine. 

“How do I put this nicely…” Sylus’ deep, throaty timbre reverberated off the walls, and you did your best to ignore him as you brought your bottle to your lips. “The way you’re performing now, you’re on par to fight a toddler.” 

Prick. Water dribbled down your chin as you tightened the water cap and set the container down. “That’s what the practice ring is for. Practice. I’m not trying to show out.” 

“No, clearly you’re not. You’re trying to distract yourself.” 

Ever the discerning crime lord. “I’m working out, Sylus. Since when does that require perfect form?” Placing your hands on your hips, you glared at his reflection in the mirror. “More importantly, why are you just standing there watching? It’s weird.” 

He feigned disinterest by looking at his nails, a move that infuriated you as much as it intrigued you. Sylus always looked so effortlessly handsome. The sight of him posted up against the wall with his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest almost distracted you from the rampant thoughts about Caleb that had plagued your brain for the last two days. Almost. “You might be ‘practicing’, but you’re doing yourself a disservice by not utilizing your full potential. That stance is pathetic, and your punches couldn’t hurt a fly. To add insult to injury, you already know all of this.”

“And I really don’t care. Go find Kieran or Luke if you want to criticize someone, I’m not in the mood.”

Sylus went quiet behind you as you began unstrapping your gloves, and a few beats of silence passed before you lifted your gaze back to the mirror. He was staring at you intently, ruby red eyes flickering darkly and narrowing. It wasn’t exactly the expression he wore when he was angry– not when it still hid a sliver of possessive longing within his dark pupils. But even so, it was enough. You felt arousal curling hot in your gut at the sight, and Sylus’ eyes flicked up to your damp hair clinging to your forehead as a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“Then what are you in the mood for?” Sylus purred the question, pushing off the wall to stalk over to the boxing platform. He shrugged off his jacket as he walked, tossing it haphazardly over the rope barrier before effortlessly hoisting himself up and stepping into the ring. “Want me to leave you alone? Completely? Back off and let you think about your long lost friend in peace?” 

Oh, shit. 

Your mouth fell open at the realization that he knew. How? When had he found out? Your mind whirred with the possibilities and your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your skin and imbuing you with an overwhelming sense of guilt. It had never been like that with Caleb, but did Sylus know that? Did he think the worst? How much of the impromptu reunion was he aware of? 

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” He goaded you further, prowling towards you without an ounce of hesitation. You held up your palms towards him as though to stop him, but he captured your smaller hands in his larger ones and threaded your fingers together, pulling you against his chest with a throaty chuckle devoid of any humor. “Did you really think I didn’t know why you’ve been so out of it lately?” 

“Sylus, I–” you stopped yourself, indignant anger taking root as you realized he had somehow invaded your privacy. “Did you follow me? You ass! How do you even know about that?”

He ignored your pointed line of questioning and pressed on with his brows furrowed. “Were you ever planning on telling me? Or would you have kept quiet and silently debated on whether or not rushing back to his side is a good plan?”

“What? Don’t you dare turn this back on me, you spied on me!” 

“I was in the city on business. Nothing special, but I wanted to stop by to see you once I was done. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in the park with him on the way to my meeting.” 

You tsk’d in annoyance, rolling your eyes in disbelief. “Business. It’s always business with you. Why does it matter that I didn’t immediately run to you to fess up about my friend not being dead?” 

“Because you lied to me.” The way he growled the blatant fact made your retort die in your throat. The anger that had burned hot in your veins cooled instantly, and you blanched as Sylus continued icily. “Taking your time to process it? That I can understand. But you looked me right in my eyes and came up with some half-assed excuse about work. You didn’t trust me with this, even though we agreed we would always be honest with one another.” 

You stammered, “Sylus, wait– I wasn’t–” 

He let go of one of your hands to capture your chin in his firm grip, forcing your eyes to meet his as he stared down at you. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was unrelenting, and the angle left you wholly at his mercy as he slipped his other hand around your back to hold you flush to him. “You weren’t what? Keeping secrets? Giving me unwarranted attitude?”

“None of this is your business!” You jerked your head out of his hold and wedged your hands between the two of you, shoving him away so abruptly that the tiniest grunt escaped his lips. Your eyes were frantic as you exclaimed, “I wouldn’t have left– I just– dammit! Just give me a minute here!”

He gave you ten seconds of uninterrupted silence. The tense kind that set your teeth on edge and made your skin crawl. Then you looked back at him, shocked to discover an icy cool expression painted across his sharp features. The unyielding wall that had existed between you both when you’d first met had been reconstructed in record time, the lack of warmth in his eyes speaking volumes of how he really felt. 

“Take all the time you need, Miss Hunter.” 

When he turned his back to you and started towards the ropes, your heart nearly gave out as your stomach plummeted into your feet. He couldn’t walk away from this– not after he had implied the worst without letting you explain. You had no clue how he even knew about Caleb, but clearly Sylus assumed your relationship with him was something more, and it scared you to think that your lover doubted you. Worse, that he doubted himself. 

Your body acted of its own accord, carrying you forward fast enough that you were able to coil your fingers around Sylus’ thick wrist. He stopped dead in his tracks, but he didn’t turn to look at you. On instinct, you darted around him so you were standing before him, then rose up onto the tips of your toes so you could crush your lips to his. 

Sylus’ reaction was slow; he inhaled sharply before his hands slowly came to the back of your neck, holding your mouth to his as an animalistic growl resonated from deep within his chest. He stepped closer to you, blindly leading you towards the edge of the ring until you felt your back press against the ropes, and Sylus used the newfound barrier to his advantage and rolled his hips against yours while his tongue delved deeper into your mouth. It was equal parts suffocating and exhilarating. Your every sense was overtaken by him– his heady scent, the muscular feeling of him, the guttural sounds he made as he devoured you. 

Sylus’ lips trailed away from yours to mouth wetly at your jaw, and your head fell back as a raspy moan escaped you when he ground his hips into you. The hard length of him was tangible through his dress pants, and the thin pair of leggings you wore did little to deter the feeling. Your hands drifted down his toned biceps and along his taut stomach before your fingers curled tellingly over his belt buckle. The tug you gave the leather material was ardent, your desires taking over your better judgement. Rational thinking had suggested you talk things out with Sylus like adults. To speak to him about loyalty and remind him that he had nothing to worry about as far as Caleb was concerned. 

But bringing up Caleb right now was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Fucking like adults might also do the trick. 

An airy whimper sounded from you as Sylus roughly brushed your hands away from his belt, taking control of the situation and yanking your sweat-soaked t-shirt over your head. Your sports-bra went next, and the peaks of your breasts pebbled in response to the cold air surrounding you. When you blinked up at the man through hazy eyes, his own orbs were dark and hooded, and the way he licked his lips made you want to kiss him again badly. You weren’t far gone enough to think you deserved it yet, though– not even when Sylus leaned forward to start mouthing down your throat, his tongue trailing against your sweat-slick skin as he descended lower and lower. 

Just when you thought Sylus would end up on his knees in front of you, he was back to his full height. He wasted little time taking you by the hips and assertively guiding you down to the floor of the boxing ring. Dazed, you blinked up at the white haired man, staring at him long enough to catch sight of the strained expression he hid behind his calm facade. It almost looked like he was pained. It confused you, but questioning it wasn’t possible once Sylus shuffled down to settle between your legs. 

You felt his blunt nails scrape against your hip bones as he tugged your panties and leggings away, tossing both of them aside before laying flat between your bent knees. He wasn’t looking at you. He wasn’t talking with you the way he normally would when the two of you were intimate. In fact, there wasn’t anything that was intimate about this aside from you being fully exposed to him. There he was, fully clothed between your legs and inches away from your womanhood, and yet not a lick of warmth emanated from him. 

Suddenly, your morose thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Sylus licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, your breath catching as the man took care to add a sinful amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you managed to wheeze, your hands flying to Sylus’ soft locs as he wrapped his lips around your clit, then sucked hard enough that your back arched off the floor. Another rough moan escaped you as Sylus splayed his fingers against the underside of your thigh and dug his nails into the tender flesh there. He did the same with your other leg, and the bruising strength he held your legs apart with was something that enticed you as much as it confused you. 

Make no mistake: rough sex with Sylus was always phenomenal, and it was most definitely something you enjoyed partaking in. But there was a missing puzzle piece here– something irregular that had your heart weighing heavy in your chest as you gazed breathlessly to the ceiling. 

You wished Sylus would say something. He hadn’t since you had grabbed for him just minutes prior, nor had he let you undress him like you’d wanted to. The disappointing memory of him crudely swatting your hands away from his belt returned to you then and imbued you with a lingering sense of remorse. Shit, you would settle for him just looking at you by this point. Anything other than the cold, rigid version of your lover before you now. 

Unbeknownst to your internal turmoil, Sylus sat back on his haunches and slid his hands to your waist, flipping you over onto your stomach and allowing for him to manhandle your legs apart. Part of you wanted to protest against the position, but then you felt your lover begin to mouth hotly down your spine and press chaste kisses to your warm skin, and your inhibitions started to melt. It was the first real show of Sylus’ softer side. The gentle press of his index finger against your entrance further derailed your train of thought, and as Sylus slowly breached your fluttering walls with the digit, you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft moan.  

The tenderness left you shaking– trembling–  for more. 

As Sylus started to pump his finger slowly, he took care to remain incredibly attentive to the way you wriggled and keened for more, your face half-buried in the crook of your arm. His free hand came to rub soothing circles against your hip as he gingerly added a second finger to join the first, and the tantalizing stretch had you gasping and squeezing your eyes shut. “F-Fuck, Sylus,” you mumbled, the words muffled slightly by your own arm pressed against your lips. 

You felt Sylus lean forward, his warm breath fanning across your ear as he asked, “Does it feel good?” 

You rocked your hips back onto the fingers easing you open, nodding and gasping breathlessly as the crime lord pressed against your inner walls incessantly in search of that one spot he knew would reduce you to a babbling mess. It didn’t take long for him to find it. Before long, Sylus slid his fingers deeper and curled them up, and the sudden jolt of pleasure that ran through you caused you to mewl your lover's name loudly. 

Taking your reactions as his cue, Sylus proceeded to work you with his fingers faster, brushing the pads of his digits over that magical spot within you every time without fail. The overwhelming sensations left your body quaking as fiery hot arousal coursed through your veins, the beginnings of your climax festering in your gut. As blissful as it was, you had no desire to end things like this; on your knees and with your back to Sylus while he used his damn hands to undo you. 

Blearily, you pushed yourself up with your arms, craning your head around to stare at the man through your lashes. “C-Come on, Sylus,” you implored him weakly. “Please?” 

Sylus met your gaze for the briefest of moments, his eyes dancing away before you could get a good look at him. He mercifully withdrew his fingers, trailing the appendages against your inner thighs and inducing a wave of goosebumps along your skin, then sat back to begin removing his clothing. It was methodical– swift, even. All you could do was watch in the reflection of the mirror as Sylus stripped himself bare without your aid, tossing his clothes off to the side of the boxing ring before returning to his kneeled position behind you. 

Sighing, you ran your hand through your hair dejectedly, accepting that Sylus’ colder nature was your own fault. How could you blame him? Beyond keeping the truth about Caleb from him, you had pushed him away when he’d tried to get close to you. It didn’t look good for you, and you found yourself lowering yourself back to the ground with your face buried in the crook of your arm. Whether you were hiding from Sylus or your own embarrassment, you didn’t know. 

As Sylus lined himself up with your wet entrance, the tiniest sigh escaped him when the blunt head of his cock rubbed softly against you. His firm, warm hands settled on your hips as he asked, “Ready?” 

You could sass him, or rush him along, or just generally be an ass to him in response to him being so closed off, but you didn’t. The air between the two of you was different than it was before, even though Sylus was keeping all his sweetness to himself. You told yourself that you didn’t deserve it anyways and nodded shakily. 

At your confirmation, Sylus sighed and squeezed your hips, then began to sink his thick, perfect cock deep inside of you with slow, gentle thrusts. You gasped and hid your face in your arms, rocking back onto the larger man as you muffled needy little noises against your skin. When Sylus bottomed out, he moaned and ran his hands up your sides, over your ribs, so gentle and so fucking nice that you kind of wished he would just rail you through the floor of the ring. How amazingly soft he was being while distancing himself was making your chest ache. 

It didn’t last long, thankfully. When Sylus gave an experimental roll of his hips and found you more than a little eager for his cock, he groaned and pulled back farther before ramming his dick into you, and the way you cried out for it covered the throaty moan that had escaped his lips. The crime lord set the pace just like that; hard and fast, impaling you and wringing gasping cries out of you easily. The arch of your back let Sylus’ cock slide along your sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the feeling had your eyes fucking crossing. 

It was too good. Your thoughts were crashing, noisy moans sounding from you freely. You were entirely sure you were drooling all over the padding of the ring’s floor, but you didn’t really care when Sylus was fucking you so thoroughly. The fingers digging into your hips pulled you back hard even as Sylus pounded his cock into your wet, tight heat, leaving you completely and utterly helpless for it. 

You didn’t know if Sylus had a cruel streak or a merciful one, because eventually he peeled one hand off of your hip and wound it immediately into your hair, and then you knew you were fucked. So very fucked. And not just by the cock driving you crazy. 

Sylus yanked your hair– just a little on the side of painful– and you couldn’t help the way you fucking wailed Sylus’ name, your thighs shaking and your hips slamming back into his fast thrusts. When he pulled again, you obediently scrambled up onto your weak hands, your shoulders trembling and your stomach churning with wanton pleasure. Sylus leaned down and moaned in your ear, his grip on your hair unrelenting as he urged, “Say my name, say my name for me, come on…” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. You leaned your head back against Sylus’ shoulder and gasped his name over and over, your voice pitched high and desperate from the way his cock owned you so perfectly. Sylus’ soft sounds were driving you mad for him, eager to hear his voice again, to hear the white haired man tell you how good you were. The hand pulling at your hair made it impossible to form words, though, save for the increasingly needy cries of Sylus’ name and shaky iterations of please, please, please. 

The floor of the boxing ring creaked as Sylus pressed the two of you back down against its surface to speed up, his hips slapping against your ass so aggressively that you couldn’t help but scream for him, the pleas coming in shaking sobs. 

Even though Sylus was so thoroughly possessing you and fucking his cock straight into your cervix, something was still keeping you from getting close. It felt so good, absolutely amazing, but you couldn’t finish like this. Not when Sylus was biting his lip against his own noisy moans. Not when Sylus hadn’t said your name once this entire time. Not when Sylus had yet to look you in the eyes. 

Whining, you turned your head forward so you could look at him in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead. The muscles of his back rippled with effort as he continued pumping his hips, and his own forehead was pressed into your shoulder so he didn’t have to look at you. The change in your breathy sounds caught his attention, however, and Sylus slowed his hips to a rough grind to give the two of you a damn break. He finally lifted his dark, fucked-out gaze to yours, and proceeded to finally made eye contact with you in the mirror. Even hazy with lust, you could still pick out the hurt in Sylus’ eyes. 

You had put that there. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered and spread your fingers out against the padded floor, an unspoken invitation. After a long moment of consideration, Sylus mouthed at your sweat-slick shoulder and carefully unwound his fingers from your tangled hair to twine them together with yours. You gripped his hand tight and shivered for him, rocking back into now-gentle thrusts with a soft moan of his name. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you breathed, looking back at Sylus from over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sylus.” 

He stilled then, his free hand moving to tenderly brush your sweaty bangs out of your eyes. He didn’t respond yet, though, instead pulling out entirely to ease you over onto your back. 

Winding your violently trembling legs loosely around his waist, you wiggled as Sylus leaned back over you and aligned himself with your throbbing center once again. When he slid home, it was slow and easy, leaving the two of you gasping. To make things even better, Sylus reached over to grab both of your hands before lacing your fingers together again, balancing easily on his elbows so his chest was nearly flush to yours. It was so close, so damn intimate, and so much better than you deserved that you couldn’t even begin to hope for anything more. 

Sylus was so kind, though. He was thoughtful and courteous and so damn sweet, and he nudged your nose with his own before he finally kissed you again, thank god. You whimpered pitifully, squeezing his hands while he slid his tongue easily between your lips, deepening the kiss and drawing a keening moan from your sore throat. 

This time, Sylus’ thrusts were steady and slow, following an even tempo that left you sputtering against his lips. 

It was a world apart from earlier. Before, Sylus had been fucking you, marking you like you were his territory, holding back even as he let loose some wild, animalistic part of himself brought on by you pushing him away. 

Now, by some grace from god or by virtue of Sylus’ incredible capacity for dealing with your shit, it was like he was making love to you, his cock continuing to fill you up so good but just slow enough that you had time to understand how amazing he made you feel. Sort of. As much as you could understand when you were whispering Sylus’ name against his lips, your voice still rough from screaming and hitching audibly when he thrusted into you. 

You swallowed thickly to coat your dry throat, then opened your eyes to stare up at him again. 

Sylus had pulled back enough that he could see the faces you were making perfectly, how flushed your cheeks were, and how watery your eyes were. Being watched so intimately caused you to flush darker, and you closed your eyes again and arched your back with a broken groan when Sylus’ cock slid over your sweet spot once again. 

“Sylus,” you moaned, sliding your thighs further up his sides and spreading them wider. “Sylus, you’re so good…”

You felt as Sylus bumped your noses together again, squeezing your hands with a contented sigh. You were more than okay with the pace things were moving at, especially once your lover brushed his lips against your cheeks so incredibly tenderly and thrust deeper into you. Spine rounding again, you let loose a shuddering gasp before your mouth fell open with an airy whisper of Sylus’ name. 

“You look so good like this,” Sylus purred, the sound of his voice sending you reeling once again. It was beyond unfair how Sylus had you wrapped around his finger. You instinctively tightened around his cock, and the lecherous moan the action pulled from him made your stomach flip. He chuckled softly shortly thereafter and squeezed your hands again, “So pretty, you know that, kitten? And you take me so well, with the prettiest little noises. God, the noises you make…” 

You were losing your fucking mind. You rolled your head to the side with a bitten-back whimper, your body rocking perfectly into Sylus’ thrusts. There was no way you could have known that the way Sylus whispered to you would set you so on edge, but you had missed it so badly in the seemingly endless period of time you’d had to go without it. Sylus’ praises made you so hot, so damn brainless that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, and the bastard knew it. When Sylus sped up, you were still helpless– still unable to do anything other than gasp your lover’s name into the humid air between you both. 

Even as he smiled down at you and chuckled at the way you fell apart, Sylus’ own voice was growing breathier, his moans louder. Apparently you weren’t the only one so deeply affected. 

“I can feel you getting close, kitten,” Sylus moaned against you, his hips moving in deep, quick thrusts that filled you up easily. You licked your lips and cracked open your bleary eyes to watch as Sylus’ brows pinched together in response to your walls clamping down on his cock harder. With a stammered moan of your name, Sylus’ head drooped between his shoulders as he murmured, “You feel incredible. You’re so good for me.” 

That was what you needed more than anything. Sylus moaning your name while his thrusts picked up with more force, his teeth worrying his lip as he fought against his bone-deep urge to finish. Your name spoken by Sylus would forever be your favorite sound, and hearing it now was driving you straight to the edge and building your orgasm up quickly in your gut. Your moans spiked into breathy cries, your muscles tensing and twitching in earnest. Unable to stop yourself, you started to beg, “S-Sylus, Sylus, I’m almost– I’m– please, Sylus–”

Sylus obliged your senseless word babble. He untangled your fingers from his so he could sit up on his heels, looping his arms under your back to bring you with him. With you balanced easily in his lap, Sylus kept one arm around your midsection while the other came to grip your hip before he started thrusting again, his cock angling up and hitting you so deep and so perfect that you were certain you were seeing stars. Your hands flew frantically to Sylus’ toned shoulders, your nails digging in for purchase as that telltale sensation in the pit of your stomach grew stronger and more potent. 

Once Sylus breathed your name again, his voice trailing off into a raspy, rumbling moan, it was more than enough to carry you over the edge. 

Your breasts pressed into Sylus’ chest as your spine arched, your climax crashing over you violently and rendering your brain useless. Sylus groaned long and loud as you clenched impossibly further around his cock, and as you clung desperately to him and buried your face into the crook of his neck, he managed to thrust once, then twice, before he came with a shuddering groan. 

Sylus curled around you possessively and ground against you mindlessly, his large hands gripping you so tightly that you were certain they would leave bruises in their wake. He continued to mumble your name breathlessly into your ear as the two of you came down together, and eventually you were able to think through the pleasured fog that still tinged your vision. 

You continued to breathe heavily, your limbs shaking and twitching as you clenched your eyes shut and continued to hide your looming shame in the crook of Sylus’ neck. The only thing that pulled you out of your makeshift cocoon was the feeling of the larger man’s lips pressing against the top of your head, and you jolted almost violently at the attention. 

“Damn, sweetie,” Sylus said roughly, his hand trailing up your bare back to hold the nape of your neck. “You’re still shaking an awful lot. Are you alright?” 

You were silent for a long time, trying and failing to get your breathing under control again while Sylus simply cradled you. There was nothing you wanted more than to keep holding him, to keep him from leaving you and walking away, but as the dust settled around the two of you, you remembered how bad you had actually fucked up. So you waited for Sylus to release you, to stop mumbling sweet nothings into the top of your head, to banish you from his home entirely and send you back to Linkon City. 

But he didn’t do any of those things. He surprised you by lowering his own head so it was right beside yours, using his chin to gently nudge you out of your hiding spot in his shoulder so he could look at you. “I’m going to need an answer, sweetie, because I’m becoming increasingly worried that I hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry, Sylus,” you mumbled, avoiding meeting his gaze in favor of directing your words to his chest. Your voice was meek and pitiful, and your lower lip trembled as you tried and failed to fight the influx of tears that welled in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

At first, Sylus was quiet. You felt his arms slide away from your back, and for a split second you were convinced that he was going to shove you away and end things with you then and there. But then his hands reappeared between the two of you, tentatively cupping your jaw to angle your face up at him. He looked at you curiously, sweeping his thumb under your eyes to catch the stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. His voice was calm and gentle when he finally asked, “What exactly are you apologizing for?” 

“For lying to you. For saying those hurtful things. I know I was overwhelmed by Caleb just… showing up the way he did, but that was no excuse for being so cruel to you.” You swallowed, your brow furrowing as you stared up at the literal love of your life and became overtaken by a fresh dose of remorse. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want Caleb. I don’t want you to think that you’ve been some replacement for him this entire time because I never had feelings like that for him. I should have been honest from the jump instead of getting so defensive. I’m really, really sorry, Sylus.” 

Sylus seemed to mull your confession over– always so careful about picking his words. It was a trait that you could certainly stand to learn from, if only you could manage to stop talking out of your ass for five seconds. 

“I didn’t exactly broach the subject with you delicately,” he admonished with a grimace. “I didn’t stop to consider that your childhood friend was back from the dead. I just assumed the worst and jumped head first into the conversation with that thought driving me. So for that, I’m sorry.” 

A watery smile stretched across your face, and you wrapped your arms around Sylus’ waist with your ear pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothing your previously frayed nerves. “So does this mean you forgive me?” 

To your mild surprise, Sylus laughed. Softly, and far from the mean-spirited kind. He returned your embrace eagerly, tracing small circles against your back with his fingers as he shook his head to himself. “There’s hardly that much to forgive. You’ve said worse things to me in the past, remember?” 

“Don’t make me beg. Just answer the question.” 

“Yes, kitten. I forgive you.” 

Sighing contentedly, you felt Sylus press a quick kiss to your forehead before holding you tighter to him, then he rose swiftly and easily, not at all slowed down by hoisting you up along with him. You yelped a little in alarm and wrapped your legs around his waist, entirely at his mercy as he somehow managed to duck under the ropes of the boxing ring with you coiled around him like a baby monkey. “Where are we going?” 

“To shower. I have every intention of making the most of your apologetic mood. And I think I might like to see you beg a little.” 

You sat upright in his firm hold, placing your hand on his chest to put a modicum of space between the two of you. “But you said you forgave me! What about Luke and Kieran?! Your room is on the other side of the house– Sylus, we’re naked!” 

Undeterred, Sylus flashed you his trademark smirk– the one that never failed to lower your inhibitions. “Oh, I forgive you. But since I have heard worse things from you before, the way I see it is you can go ahead and earn some more forgiveness while you’re at it.” 

Anxious beyond belief at the prospect of the twins seeing you in the nude, you shoved at Sylus more and scrambled to get out of his hold. He was having none of it, however, and swiftly readjusted his grip so he could toss you over his shoulder, your rear on full display in the event anyone crossed paths with the two of you. When you frantically started kicking your legs and hitting his back, he returned the motion with a playful slap to your ass that pulled a loud yelp from your lips. 

You loved the man with all your heart. You truly couldn’t fathom yourself ever leaving him, nor could you imagine your life without him. He brought a certain excitement to your otherwise dull day-to-day that you treasured and valued endlessly. 

But be that as it may, you were so, so going to kill him for this. 

[beanietopia]

choso has a porn addiction, plain and simple. every morning for him starts with the same: open up twitter, get his bottle of lotion, and scroll through his bookmarks until he can cum. he’s had girlfriends in the past, they all thought his addiction was gross. what girl would ever entertain a guy that jerked off to random girls getting creampied on twitter?

well, you, of course.

he messaged you on a random morning, ‘hey’, was all it said. you happened to have a slight porn addiction of your own, having filled your bookmarks for your own solo sessions. you didn’t realize your messages were open and felt your brow go up as you read his message. a click to his bio and there wasn’t much there, just the year he was born and 🇯🇵. your first instinct was to delete the message, but your curiosity got the best of you. you messaged back, investigated how he found your account, and choso revealed his intentions.

‘are you into the idea of sending some nsfw posts to each other?’

choso used to sext with his ex girlfriends, but none of them wanted to include porn. they found it weird and considered it cheating to look at videos while in a relationship. now here he was, randomly texting a stranger on the internet to get a quick nut. if he wasn’t palming his dick through his shorts right now, he’d actually think he looked a bit pathetic. it wasn’t until you said yes and started sending your bookmarked videos did he realize what he was getting himself into.

freeing his dick from his briefs, he started to stroke himself while imagining himself doing the things in the videos with you. he didn’t know what you looked like, hell, he wasn’t even sure you were who you said you were. but you were just as porn obsessed as he was, and he didn’t think you could get any better until you sent another message.

‘let me suck it while you play video games.’

it’s like you knew the exact words to say to get him off. choso hastily reciprocated, although it had become quite difficult to type with one hand. he confessed on how desperately he wanted to cum in your pussy and how you suck him in so well, not knowing that you too had started pleasuring yourself at the mere thought. it had been a while and you needed some action too, okay? his messages started getting further and further apart until he asked you to send a post he can finish to. bringing yourself back to reality for a quick moment to send him a creampie video, how could you have known his favorite genre? you found yourself soon chasing your own orgasm. the echoes of the moans coming from your phone had blended with yours, and you soon came undone on your fingers. 

once you remembered to look at your phone again, choso had let you know that he had made a mess, followed by a picture of his cum stained hand and torso. when you sent back a picture of your glistening fingers and soiled sheets, choso audibly moaned. what a pervert.

‘fuck, you’re making me hard… is same time tomorrow good with you?’

--------

uhh welp this is my first piece of work on tumblr LMFAO HEY GUYS! special shoutout to my pookie bears @gojoscinnamonroll @xixflower @takumasimp @webism for encouraging me and AAAAAAAA I HOPE SOMEBODY LIKES THIS,,,, i wanna keep posting on here so lmk what you think :3 ok bye beanie out

[liabugs]

caleb x fem!reader drabble ^_^

cw: pwp (without plot) p in v (unprotected) creampie, breeding, talks of baby trapping and pregnancy, overstimulation, mating press, begging, pet names (princess, baby, good girl) slight spoiler for homecoming wings (?)

this man makes me go FERAL, once again dividers by @/anitalenia !! <3

SMUT AHEAD 18+ MDNI

"I know baby," Caleb coos over your whimpering, "jus' one more 'kay? I need to fill you up one more time, princess.." You shake your head, tears falling from your cheeks. " 's too much..! can't take it pleasepleaseplease...!" You beg, looking up at him with doe eyes. It felt like it's been hours since Caleb started fucking you, pulling orgasm after endless orgasm from you... He has you in a mating press, your legs laying on his broad shoulders. You're practically folded in half. All while he keeps going on about breeding you saying,

"Gotta make sure it takes."

"you're always gonna be mine, 'jus need to make sure you can't leave me no matter what."

"you're gonna look so beautiful with a round belly, everybody in the Fleet will know who fucked a baby into your pretty cunt.."

but you were to fucked out to register any of it, his cock hitting all the right places inside of you. You could barely register your thoughts, all you knew in this moment is the feeling of Caleb's cock deliciously stretching you out. With his sweet praises and his hands roaming around your body, pinching your nipples and rubbing the swollen bud between your legs, you were close to cumming again. And Caleb could feel it. He felt the way your walls were fluttering around him, sucking him in deeper, trying to milk his cock for all it's worth.

"such a good girl, 'gonna cum for me yeah?" He asks gently. You nod, moaning his name, babbling slurred words of how good he was making you feel. Caleb was getting close to another orgasm himself, the way your cunt was clinching around his cock was driving him crazy. Looking down at your face with admiration, his hand cupping your cheek with his thumb caressing your cheek. He leans down to kiss you, desperation and lust fill the kiss. His hand goes back down to rub circles on your clit, and fortunately that's all you need to give Caleb what he wants. Your legs shake as you come undone around him, moaning and curses fall from your lips.

With a couple more thrusts, Caleb's release follows shortly after yours. A groan emerges from his throat, warm spurts of cum fill your already stuffed cunt. He moves your legs from his shoulders, letting you relax into the mattress. Almost instantly, you start drifting off into sleep. Caleb smiles, looking at the mess he's made out of your cunt. He's very sure that before long, there will be a bump swelling on your tummy. He knows you'll be scared... but don't worry! He will take good care of you, even if that means not letting the rest of the world see you ever again.

[lamefish]

yeahh…road head with gojo…

oh i have thoughts.

because road head with gojo goes one of two ways: you're fooling around in the back seat whilst ijichi or another 'not-paid-enough-for-this' driver pretends they can't hear him groaning as you take him to the base. making eye contact with the driver in the rear view mirror, goading them on to say anything as if they’re not wishing they were in his position just now.

or it’s the less-often times that he drives.

satoru often gets pent up before big events and meetings and the such, and having you by his side makes it none the easier for him to control himself.

“please, baby, i’m so hard it huuurts!” he whines, keeping his eyes on the road the best he can as he drives. “i can’t face the higher-ups like this! they’ll think i’m perverted.”

“you are perverted,” you reply shortly from the passenger seat. your tone doesn’t match the eager way you readjust your position and start working on fishing satoru’s cock from his bow-tight pants. “having me suck your dick while you’re driving. you’re filthy, toru.”

“guilty,” he drums his fingers against the steering wheel—it takes everything inside of him not to abandon his common sense and put his hands to better use by pushing your head down. “please.”

admittedly; he does close his eyes as you finally wrap your lips around his cock. and he does have to swerve to avoid the opposite lane of traffic but he rights himself in an instant and continues driving responsibly—just with the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

he’s a mess. it’s a miracle he’s still able to drive relatively safely with the way you’re sucking him—like you’re trying to milk him for all he has. god he loves you.

you have to edge him a little until he reaches a set of traffic lights, coming to a complete stop when it turns red just to squeeze his eyes shut and throw his head back in an ecstatic orgasm that wracks through the entirety of his body. he cums deep in your throat at such a speed that you hardly get a chance to taste his release on your tongue.

you pull off him with a messy smile and he rectifies your efforts by meeting you in a sloppy kiss of shared spit and the remnants of his release glossing the both of your lips.

until the car behind you starts honking, because the lights been green for a minute now. oops

[multific]

In Every Curve, Perfection

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: When Simon returns from a mission you worry about your marriage. You changed, but his love for you remains unwavering, growing stronger with every moment by your side.

Simon Riley walked into your shared home with the weight of months on his shoulders. 

The mission had been long, gruelling, and filled with dangers you could hardly imagine. You’d counted the days until his return, but now that he was here, anxiety gripped your chest.

You greeted him at the door with a soft smile, the sight of him stealing your breath as it always did. 

His mask was gone, revealing the tired but warm expression on his face. The face you loved so much.

“Welcome home, Simon,” you whispered, trying to keep your nerves at bay.

He dropped his bag to the floor and pulled you into his arms, his hold firm and warm. 

“I missed you,” he said, his deep voice muffled against your hair. He took deep breaths smelling your hair, you, taking it all in.

He was home.

As his arms tightened around you, your self-consciousness bubbled to the surface. 

You hadn’t been lazy while he was gone, but the stress, the loneliness, it had all added up. 

Your body wasn’t quite the same as when he’d left. 

The extra curves you carried now felt like a glaring reminder of your insecurities, and the idea of him noticing made your heart race in all the wrong ways.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you said quickly, pulling back from his embrace.

Simon didn’t let you go far, his hands finding your hips and pulling you back to him. 

“Hold on,” he said, his sharp eyes studying your face. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, hoping he’d let it go.

But Simon wasn’t one to miss details, and his brow furrowed. 

“Talk to me, Love. What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, looking away from his deep and beautiful eyes. 

“It’s nothing, really. I just... I’ve changed a bit while you were gone. You might not like it.”

“What are you talking about?” his voice was filled with genuine concern.

You stepped back, gesturing vaguely to yourself. 

“I’ve gained weight, Simon. I didn’t mean to, but... I just don’t look the same anymore. Not like when you left.”

His response was immediate. “You think I care about that?”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. “I just thought... maybe you wouldn’t see me the same way. Wouldn't want me.”

Simon stepped forward, closing the space between you again. 

His hands cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t ever think that,” he said, his voice firm but full of warmth. “You’re beautiful, Love. Always have been, always will be.”

“But—”

“No,” he interrupted, his hands sliding down to rest on your shoulders, then your sides, his touch lingering as though he was rediscovering you. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you? Missed this?” His hands settled on your hips, his thumbs brushing over them in a comforting pattern. “Your softness, your curves... they’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

Your throat tightened with emotion. “Simon—”

He silenced you with a kiss, tender and slow, leaving no room for doubt. When he pulled back, his eyes locked with yours. “I’ve faced hell out there. And every day, all I wanted was to come home to you. To hold you, to feel you. You’re my refuge, Love. Every inch of you.”

“I thought maybe you’d want someone different. Someone—”

“Someone who isn’t you?” he interrupted again, shaking his head. “Not in a million years. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and nothing will ever change that.”

He pulled you into his arms again, his embrace warm and secure.

 “I love you,” he murmured against your ear. “Just the way you are.”

You melted against him, your insecurities fading away along with your worries. 

He pulled you close for another kiss, a kiss that was so deep it took your breath away.

Simon’s love was all you ever wanted and yearned for. 

Having him back with you felt so right. Having him in your arms and being able to smell him, your mind was at ease. 

He was home. He loved you, you loved him.

You didn't need anything else.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[cheer-nympho]

Thinking about Eddie driving up to the quarry one night to try and sell to the teenagers that usually hang around here,

But when he gets there only one car is parked and hidden behind the bushes framing the road.

A very familiar BMW with it’s windows steamed up.

‘Of course Harringtons getting some again. Lucky fuck.’ Eddie thinks as he lights a smoke, if only to warm him up a bit in the cold night.

Damn. From the condensation dripping down the BMW windows, they’re having no problem keeping warm.

Even from the distance it takes effort to not startle when the hand slams against the back window, creating a messy handprint on the white glass. Even from here he can see it’s a mans hand. Steve, he assumes. Jesus, whoever he has in that back seat is clearly getting railed practically through the seats.

He should look away, really. Knows that this is a bit fucked up. But…he can’t actually see anything. And really, Harrington shouldn’t have brought her out to the towns most known hangout. And its not like he was straining to hear, they were just SO loud. And…deep?

Eddie’s not exactly a connoisseur in the different noises of women, try as he may, but he’s pretty sure he’s only hearing a man right now. Sure, its still a pretty high pitched and punched out sound but noticeably a dudes- which confuses Eddie for a minute.

Harrington must just be really sensitive and loud. Maybe that’s why he had so many girls falling over him, the noises certainly weren’t turning Eddie OFF the interaction.

He can physically see the change in the cars bouncing when he assumes they’re…’finishing off’

Eddie doesn’t know why he’s still here. He could have- no, he SHOULD have left ages ago. But not long after the bouncing stops, the car door swings over and 2 legs swing out, hands coming down to fix their socks- clearly having hastily thrown his clothes back on.

The only thing is…Eddie doesn’t remember Harringtons legs being so long? The body looks out or place sitting in the open door, not like the familiar and practically famous silhouette of Steve against his vehicle. And it hits Eddie square in the face when the guy stands upright.

Cause Eddie DOES know the guy. He’s just stomach tippinglys aware that it is NOT Harrington.

That’s Johnny. Eddies (admittedly one sided) rival at the hideout. A fucking punk. Not in the way the adults of Hawkins use the term, he’s literally a punk rocker.

And his punk rocker ass is currently stepping out of Steve Harringtons freshly christened back seat. Well that…can’t be right. Harrington must just…rent out his car to couple or something. That must be it. Rich people are weird like that.

His theory is very quickly destroyed as Johnny knocks lightly on the roof of the car, cigarette already in the other hand, and pokes his head into the back. He laughs before a pair of legs flop out of the door. Legs attached to someone clearly too tall for a backseat. Legs attached to someone very male.

He should go. He needs to go. If not because of how his stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself, then because his best-buddy Johnny just tipped his head non-subtly towards Eddie’s van.

‘Shit shit shit shit-‘ He puts the keys in as fast as he can with shaking hands.

— And he so nearly got away too. So nearly never had to look at that BMW or its occupants again, live his life carefree.

All hope of that was cruelly dashed when he left hellfire to see Steve leaning against his van.

He scanned the area, in hopes someone else had stayed late because he was pretty sure Steve was about to give him the “talk and you’re dead” followed by a beating up. And that would suck.

Nowhere else to go but forward, he clutched his DND bag and hobbled over to Harrington- who hadn’t offered him anything other than a blank stare.

“Harrington.”

“Munson.”

“Pretty late to be lurking around school. People might get the wrong idea.”

“Don’t lecture me on lurking, man. We both know you were at the quarry.”

“I don’t really-“

“Johnny told me, would recognise your beat up ride miles away he said.”

Thankfully Eddie had enough brain power in him to add that to the list of reasons to fucking hate Johnny. In the time he had to scowl at the ground, Harrington had rounded behind him. Eddie span to meet him but was met with a rough hand to the chest.

He was pushed up against his van with a sharp movement, pulling a winded breath from him followed by a large ‘bang’ as Steve’s hand slammed to the side of his head.

“So, Munson. What did you see?”

“I didn’t see-“

“Try again.” A hand crept into his hair, not pulling but clearly threatening it with the way it was clasped.

“I saw…you and Johnny. In your car.”

Steve hummed and looked away from Eddie. “That’s not very specific, Eddie, try again.”

“Wha- I don’t know what you-“ The hand in his hair yanked, pulling his head so that even with their similar heights he was forced to look up at Steve, hands gripping uselessly to the side of his van.

“Try again.”

Oh.

Oh.

That’s what he wanted.

“I saw Johnny fucking you.”

He managed to lift his gaze to look at Steve and was met with an almost dopey smirk, his eyes barely focused as they stared down at Eddie half closed. Eddie melted right into the wall of his van because Steve Harrington was looking him like he’d never been hornier in his life.

“Fuck. He was Eddie, he really was and it was so good. You saw it right? Saw the car moving? Shit, man, it’s hard to get it moving like that. He was so rough.” Eddie just stared as Steve started falling further towards him, sinking into the weird little hold they both had.

“But there’s just one problem Munson.” Steve said into the side of Eddie’s neck, making him shiver and use all his willpower to keep his head where Steve’s grip had moved it.

“What- What problem?”

“My car is just too small. We needed more space, I needed more space.”

He brought his free hand up and slammed it to the other side of Eddie’s head. “Do you think you might know anyone with something more…spacious?” And when Eddie clocked exactly what he was implying, what he was begging for- he had never been so thankful for his shitty van.

[swappermanent]

Normal Kids

“I’m 19! I’m old enough to make decisions about my own body!” I yelled, my voice echoing off the kitchen walls. My chest heaved as I stood across from my parents, their expressions a cocktail of disbelief, frustration, and something I couldn’t quite place—grief, maybe?

My mom crossed her arms tightly over her chest, looking anywhere but at me. “I’m sorry, we just… we can’t let you do that.”

“Let me?” I spat, the word tasting bitter. “You can’t let me? Do you even hear yourselves? This isn’t something you control! This is my life. My body.”

Dad rubbed his temples, his fingers digging into his skin like he could will the conversation away. “You’re too young to make a decision like this,” he said finally, his voice low but strained. “You don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” I shot back, feeling my hands shake. “I’ve spent years figuring this out—every sleepless night, every time I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself, every time I wanted to scream because I couldn’t be who I am. Don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Mom finally looked up, her face pale but her eyes blazing. “This isn’t about us not loving you. We just…” She paused, her voice trembling. “We don’t understand why you have to keep doing this to us.”

My stomach dropped, but I held my ground. “This isn’t something I’m doing to you. This is me—this is who I am. It’s not a phase or a rebellion or whatever else you want to call it. You’ve already been through this once with Liam. Are you seriously telling me you didn’t learn anything?”

Dad flinched, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. Liam, my older brother, had been their golden boy until he came out as gay a few years ago. It wasn’t pretty—he’d waited until he was moving out to tell them, probably because he knew exactly how they’d react. The disappointment in their eyes, the long silences, the occasional outburst when they thought no one else could hear… it had been brutal. But Liam had stood his ground, just like I was now.

When he left, I’d thought it couldn’t get worse. But then, a few months later, I’d come out as a lesbian. Their reaction had been less dramatic that time—probably because they were already so exhausted from Liam—but it wasn’t exactly warm, either. They’d treated it like a wound that would heal if they just ignored it long enough.

But this… this was different. A few weeks ago, I’d finally found the courage to tell them I was trans. And the look on their faces when I said those words—it was like I’d detonated a bomb in the living room.

“First Liam, and now this,” Mom had whispered that night, her voice shaking. “Why can’t we just have normal kids?”

That phrase had been replaying in my head ever since. Normal kids. Like there was some checklist of qualities that made you acceptable, and Liam and I had failed to meet every single one of them.

Now, as I stood in the kitchen, I felt that familiar mix of anger and sadness bubbling up. “I’m sorry I’m not the daughter you wanted,” I said, my voice breaking despite my best efforts. “But I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not just to make you comfortable.”

“Why can’t you wait?” Dad said, his voice softer now. “Just give it a few years, until you’re older. Until you’re absolutely sure.”

“I am sure,” I said, looking him directly in the eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. And I’m not going to waste any more time being someone I’m not.”

Silence hung in the air like a heavy fog. My parents exchanged a glance, but neither of them said anything. For a moment, I thought I saw something shift in my mom’s expression—something that looked almost like understanding. But then it was gone, replaced by the same tight-lipped resolve.

“We just need time,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is… a lot.”

I nodded, biting back the sharp response I wanted to give. I knew I wouldn’t change their minds tonight. But I also knew that I wasn’t going to stop fighting. For Liam, for myself, for every other kid who’d ever been told they weren’t enough—I wasn’t going to give up.

For months, I begged and badgered my parents to let me start transitioning. Every conversation ended in a brick wall—excuses about my age, about not understanding the “gravity” of my decision, about the costs. They controlled the insurance, and they paid my college tuition. Without their approval, I was stuck. Trapped in a body that didn’t feel like mine and a life that didn’t feel like it fit.

But then, one evening, they relented.

“We’ve… been thinking about your request,” my mom said hesitantly over dinner. I immediately froze, my fork halfway to my mouth.

My dad chimed in. “We found a clinic that might be able to help.”

I blinked, surprised but cautious. “Really?” I asked, my voice laced with doubt.

“Yes,” my mom replied, forcing a smile. “It’s… unconventional, but we think it might be what you’re looking for. They specialize in full-body transformations.”

Something about her tone set me on edge, but I didn’t press. I was too desperate for their approval. If they were finally agreeing to help me, I wasn’t about to question it. The only condition? Liam had to take me.

I love my brother. He’s my rock, the only person who truly gets me. So, I didn’t mind the idea of him tagging along. In fact, I was relieved to have him there. I told myself that having his support would make this feel less terrifying.

The clinic was nothing like I expected. It wasn’t a sterile hospital or some dingy back-alley operation. It was sleek, modern, and impossibly fancy. Marble floors, pristine white walls, the faint smell of lavender in the air. The kind of place you’d expect celebrities to visit for some high-end spa treatment.

A woman in a crisp white suit greeted us at the front desk. Her smile was warm but unnervingly perfect. “Welcome,” she said. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Liam raised an eyebrow at me, but I shrugged. We were led into a private lounge, where they offered us water and reassured me that the procedure was safe and effective. A doctor arrived shortly after and explained that Liam and I would be separated for a brief consultation. That seemed odd, but I didn’t overthink it. Maybe they wanted to talk about medical history or something.

The moment I stepped into my consultation room, my gut told me something was off. It wasn’t the room itself—it was just as fancy as the rest of the place, with plush chairs and soft lighting—but there was an odd energy in the air. The doctor who entered was an older man with kind eyes, but his words sent a chill down my spine.

“This isn’t your typical hormone therapy clinic,” he began. “What we offer here is… revolutionary. Instead of months or years of transitioning, we provide an immediate solution.”

I frowned. “Immediate?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning forward. “We specialize in body-swapping technology. You would be able to inhabit a different body entirely—one that aligns with who you truly are.”

My stomach flipped. “Body-swapping?” I repeated, barely able to process what he was saying.

The doctor nodded, his expression calm, like this was the most normal thing in the world. “In your case, your parents have arranged for a body that they believe would suit you. Strong, male, conventionally attractive. We’re ready to begin the process, provided we have your consent.”

My heart was pounding now. “What body?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Your brother’s,” the doctor said simply.

The room spun. “What?” I croaked. “You’re saying… you want me to swap bodies with Liam?”

The doctor nodded again. “Yes. Your parents thought this would provide you with the life you’re seeking—male, straight, and socially acceptable. Liam has already been sedated and prepped for the procedure. He’ll retain his memories and sense of self, but he’ll wake up in your body.”

My mind raced, trying to piece everything together. “Does Liam… does he know about this?”

“No,” the doctor admitted. “He doesn’t need to. He’ll adapt in time. All we need is your consent.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. This was insane. They wanted to rip apart my brother’s life without his knowledge, without his consent. It was horrifying. And yet… the image of Liam’s body flashed in my mind. He was everything I’d ever wanted to be—handsome, muscular, confident. I imagined the life I could have in his shoes. The ease, the acceptance. The chance to finally feel right in my own skin.

“You’ll be happy,” the doctor said, as though reading my thoughts. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

I clenched my fists, my heart racing. Every fiber of my being screamed that this was wrong, that Liam didn’t deserve this. But at the same time, the temptation was undeniable. How could I say no to something I’d dreamed of my entire life?

“I…” My voice wavered. I glanced at the door, imagining Liam just a room away, completely unaware of what was happening.

But the thought of waking up in his body, of finally feeling at home, was too powerful to ignore.

“I’ll do it,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I’ll do it.”

The doctor’s smile widened. “Excellent. Let’s get started.”

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the weight. Not the kind that dragged you down, but something grounding, solid, like my body was finally my own. My eyelids fluttered open, and my heart skipped as I caught sight of my arm resting against the pristine white sheets. Strong, defined, dusted with dark hair that caught the soft light streaming in through the window. I flexed my fingers experimentally, watching tendons shift under the skin.

It felt… right.

I sat up, the sheets pooling around my waist, and ran a hand over my chest. The sensation of my fingers brushing through coarse hair was electric. My pecs were firm, rising and falling with each breath, and I couldn’t stop myself from tracing the ridges of muscle down to my abs. Every touch felt like discovering a secret, a hidden part of myself I’d been waiting my entire life to meet.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I caught sight of my reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. My breath hitched. Liam’s body—no, my body—looked even more incredible in motion. Broad shoulders, a tapered waist, the kind of build that turned heads. I stood slowly, marveling at the way my thighs tensed with the movement, the muscles taut and powerful beneath the skin.

I stepped closer to the mirror, placing a hand on the glass as though I needed to prove this was real. My other hand drifted up to my jaw, rough with stubble. I dragged my fingers across it, savoring the gritty sensation. The shadow of a beard framed my face, making my features sharper, more defined. I tilted my head, flexing experimentally, watching my shoulders and arms ripple with strength.

A shiver ran down my spine as I splayed my fingers across my chest, the dark hair soft yet coarse against my palm. My nipples stiffened under my touch, the sensation sparking an unfamiliar but intoxicating heat. I trailed my hand lower, tracing the faint line of hair that led down my stomach, feeling the muscles shift beneath my fingertips.

I turned to the side, marveling at the broadness of my back, the way it tapered into my hips. My hand skimmed over the curve of my biceps, then down to my forearm, where veins snaked beneath the skin, pulsing faintly with life. Every inch of me felt alive, thrumming with energy I’d never known before.

A sudden laugh escaped my lips, low and rich, surprising me with its depth. I couldn’t help but grin, running a hand through my hair, which was thick and slightly messy from sleep. The movement flexed my arm, and I turned back to the mirror, caught up in the intoxicating sight of strength and masculinity. This was me—finally me.

The knock at the door was soft but purposeful, and when I turned, the nurse from earlier stepped in. She was petite but poised, her blonde hair swept into a neat ponytail, her cheeks tinged pink as she glanced at me. I realized I was still shirtless, standing in all my glory, and I couldn’t help but smirk. The confidence in this body felt second nature, like slipping on a well-tailored suit.

“Just checking to see how you’re feeling,” she said, her voice warm but a little breathy. Her eyes lingered on my chest a beat too long before darting away, her blush deepening.

“I’m feeling incredible,” I said, letting my voice drop an octave. “But you probably hear that a lot.”

She chuckled nervously, her hands fiddling with the clipboard she carried. “Well, we do aim to please.”

I stepped closer, the smooth strength of my legs propelling me forward effortlessly. “You’ve done more than that.” I flexed my arm casually, the muscles swelling under my skin. “I’m guessing Liam—uh, I—had an arms workout yesterday. Feel that.” I offered my bicep, and her eyes widened slightly before she hesitantly reached out.

Her fingers brushed my skin, and I tensed the muscle, watching her expression shift as she gave a quiet, appreciative gasp. “Wow,” she murmured. “That’s… impressive.”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning. “All yours to admire.”

Her blush deepened, but she didn’t pull away. Emboldened, I let my hand rest lightly on her waist. Her breath hitched, and I could feel the warmth of her body through her scrubs. My touch was gentle, but I knew the strength behind it was unmistakable—controlled, deliberate, intoxicating.

“You’re incredible,” I said softly, my thumb tracing small circles on her side. She shivered under my touch, her gaze locking with mine. The tension in the room was electric, every second stretching out tantalizingly. My hand drifted lower, just brushing the curve of her hip.

I reached for the waistband of my pants, ready to strip down and revel in this moment fully when—

The door burst open with a crash, and I whipped around to see myself—my old self—standing there, wide-eyed and furious.

“What the hell are you doing?!”