#also typing this up and sitting here like

[smileysuh]

no face

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. Wonwoo is even more gorgeous than you’d ever imagined the anonymous No Face being, and this time, when you close your eyes to listen to the cam boy moan, you imagine your history partner above you, his hand down your pants as he rubs you closer and closer to the edge. 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, mutual masterbation, mention of cam shows/watching cam shows, extreme dirty talk, alter ago dom cam boy Wonwoo, pussy eating oral, multiple reader orgasms, overstimulation, praise, encouragement, multiple sex scenes, fingering, body/breast worship, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.6k 

🍭 aus. Svt cam boy au, frat au, university au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. This is part 1 of a 3 part cam boy svt au. Each story can be read as a stand alone, but exists within the same universe :) Wonwoo is April, Seungcheol is May, and Mingyu will be in June. As soon as all 3 are up, a masterlist will be created, which will then be linked here. 

Prologue:

You never thought you’d be the type of girl to enjoy watching men get off through a computer. But then someone had recommended a cam boy to you, and one video had hooked you unlike anything else.

Being in university isn’t easy. It’s stress on stress on more stress and then a little bit extra stress just to round things out- and sometimes, a girl just has to get her rocks off without worries.

To you, cam boy No Face is the perfect distraction.

This faceless man, who usually films from the shoulders down. There’s something so specific and endearing about him. His pretty veiny hands, forearms showed off by black compression shirts with the sleeves rolled up-

His sounds are also like heaven, and sometimes you close your eyes and just listen to him, imagining he’s the one getting you off.

People talk about the dangers of porn, but fuck it, being a tad addicted to No Face is your own kind of dark chocolate and red wine, and no one is going to make you feel bad about needing an outlet for your pent up sexual energy.

He’s a gamer too, a faceless one the likes of Corpse Husband and Dream (before the face reveal of course), and you love the fact that he’s multidimensional.

When you’re studying, his gaming streams are in the background, and when you’re done studying and ready to reward yourself, it’s straight to his OnlyFans.

Recently, he’s taken to wearing a neon blue accented purge face mask, and you love the way his dark curls obscure around the plastic.

He’s a handsome man, you can just feel it in your bones, and you can feel your orgasm roll through every inch of your entire body every time you cum with the help of No Face.

One:

History classes can be a bit of a bore at times, and as someone of a recluse, you don’t get the joy of friendly chats with other girlies. No, history is your solitary work load, which is why you’re dreading the group project that’s being set up today.

The teacher gives students the benefit of choosing their own partners. This isn’t high school, and your professor knows most people already have connections that work well for this sort of thing… most people. 

You look around as people pair up, and you feel like there’s a frog in your throat. You don’t have it within you to make that leap, to ask someone to be your partner-

Which is when you notice the other antisocial person who sits at the back of the class. He’s handsome, with an angular bone structure. You’ve never once seen him smile, and that mirrored recluse nature throws you off a bit. 

To make matters worse, he has dark curly hair, just like your No Face, and everytime you look at him, your mind conjures up whispered words of encouragement to throw you over the edge, and your panties get wet in history, which is a very inopportune time to be getting horny if you’re honest with yourself.

His eyes meet yours, and you immediately look away, but you can sense him standing up to talk to you.

“Do you have a partner?” he asks.

“Uh… not really.”

“Me neither.”

There’s an xawkward silence for a moment, and then you release a sigh, looking up at him. “So… should we do the project together.”

“Guess that makes sense.” He nods.

You tell him your name, and he introduces himself as Jeon Wonwoo. You exchange details and as he speaks, there’s something even more familiar about him, but you brush it off. 

“So… when are you free?” Wonwoo asks, pulling you out of your daze.

“I could do the library after my last class ends, let’s say four oclock?”

“I’ll see you there.” 

Two:

Wonwoo is easy enough to work with. He’s not very opinionated, and he has let you choose what topic you wanted to work on for your project. Now, the two of you are getting preliminary readings out of the way, looking into the online research that would provide the backbone of your argument for the essay portion.

You find yourself looking at him very frequently, after all, he’s a striking man, and you’re a horny girl who has been so busy doing university courses that you haven’t had the time to get laid in forever.

Your gaze dips, and you stare at his hands as he toys with his pencil. It must be some sort of anxiety calming repetitive behaviour, the way he flicks it, traces his thumb and pointer down the wood, then flicks it again.

As you’re looking at him, you notice the details of his fingers.

Although No Face’s cock is significantly - significantly - bigger than this tiny pencil, the phalic shape is the same. You’ve watched so many No Face videos, and Wonwoo’s fingers are undeniably the same as your favourite cam boy’s. 

You feel like you’ve choked on air, and you look up at Wonwoo, imagining him with that neon blue purge mask.

He’s got the dark hair, the curls- he’s even wearing a black compression shirt today.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, drawing his attention immediately.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, fuck, uh-” You look away, feeling your skin heat with embarrassment. “It’s just hot in here.”

Wonwoo simply gazes at you, and you find yourself standing up. 

“I’m just going to pop outside for some air,” you tell him, not even waiting for a response as you grab your phone and dart away.

It’s only once you’re under the blue sky, feeling the cool air against your skin, that you’re able to take a moment.

You’re in a group project with your favourite gamer boy OnlyFans model, and you’re going to have to pretend as if you haven’t cum to his videos countless times.

If this is how you’re going to react every time he’s around - skin heating, heart racing, hands getting clammy - well, you’re in deep shit. 

Three:

“No, I swear to God, Tina, my history project partner is No Face!”

Your friend is silent for a moment, simply watching you. “But like… how sure?”

“Tina!” You narrow your eyes at her with exasperation. “You know I watch him religiously!”

Tina nods. “I mean… there are rumours that some of the Sigma Veta Tau frat guys are into the whole cam thing, some of the sororities too.”

“Rumours?”

“Nothing confirmed, obviously, if any of them are in on that whole OnlyFans world, they’re smart enough to not show their faces.” Tina releases a sigh. “There’s a frat party tomorrow at SVT actually, maybe… we should go and I can see Wonwoo for myself.”

“Okay, but! Tina, I’m calling dibs.”

“You can’t call dibs! I showed him to you!” Tina argues.

“This isn’t time for girl code or anything else, I know you watch multiple streamers- No Face is the only one I watch, no one else has ever interested me. And I’m the one who made the connection! Tina, for real. Please.”

She releases a deep groan. “Fuck it. Fine. I guess. But if he hits on me, I’m going for it.”

“I guess you’re wearing a full sweater and showing no skin at the party tomorrow then.”

Four: 

Wonwoo’s shocked to see you at his frat for a party. From being in classes with you for the first part of term, he’s pegged you as a shy and quiet type, much like himself. All month, he’s never seen you speak to anyone. You show up, take your seat at the very back of the room, and don’t open your mouth for anything.

Luckily for Wonwoo, he’s into the shy and quiet type. While his best friends are loud and boisterous, he could never see himself with a party girl, which is why he doesn’t have much of a social battery for being at his frat parties for longer than absolutely necessary. 

Mingyu - the aforementioned loud and boisterous best friend - is next to Wonwoo, and Wonwoo can feel his gaze.

“Are you checking out that girl?” Mingyu asks.

“I have a class project with her,” Wonwoo responds casually, sipping his beer.

“She’s cute.”

Wonwoo simply shrugs, not wanting to divulge too deeply into his interest of you just yet. He’s a careful type, and with his scandalous online alter ego, he has to be.

“You should go get her a drink,” Mingyu continues.

“She’ll be fine.”

“If you don’t get her one, I will.”

Now Wonwoo turns to look at his friend, and the challenging gaze he receives in return makes him sigh. “Fine.”

“That’s my boy!” Mingyu grins, clapping Wonwoo on the back.

Despite Wonwoo’s confident persona online, he doesn’t have much experience with women. He’d gotten into the gaming scene first, learned how to be social and how to talk to followers of all types. Somehow that had translated to making an OnlyFans.

Choi Seungcheol, frat president, had seen his follower number on Twitch, and had suggested the creation of OnlyFans. Sex sells, and the business major had run the numbers. Cheol had broken down that if even one percent of Wonwoo’s following made the transfer to OnlyFans, Wonwoo could be making serious bank every month.

Both men were shocked to find a whopping five percent of Wonwoo’s followers had initially made the move with him to OnlyFans, and since then, that number has only grown.

Wonwoo tries to channel that confidence as he approaches you, and he kind of likes the way you jump when he gently touches your elbow to gain your attention.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you respond, eyes wide. You look like a frozen deer, caught in headlights, and Wonwoo’s not sure if he wants to swerve, or hit this whole thing with full force.

“Want a drink?”

You nod, and Wonwoo leads you to the kitchen, where he finds you a beer.

“I’ve never seen you at one of these things,” he notes, stepping closer to you so you can hear each other over the loud music.

“I’ve never been to one,” you admit. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Wonwoo asks next, although, he suspects he already knows the answer.

“Uh… it’s loud.”

“Do you want to move somewhere quieter?”

He notes the way you swallow thickly, the way your pupils blow- but you nod, and Wonwoo once again grabs your arm to gently lead you to a different destination in the house.

His room is on the third floor, and he’s one of the lucky few that doesn’t have a roommate. The sound dies down significantly as soon as the door is shut behind the both of you, and Wonwoo welcomes the reprieve.

“I like your set up,” you tell him, looking around at all the neon blue and the PC set up.

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a gaming fan.”

“I can see that.” You’re quiet for a moment, and then you ask, “What are your favourite games to play?”

“Call of Duty is fun, League of Legends, Fortnite, all the usual ones,” he responds, moving toward his bed, where he takes a seat.

“Ah, right.” You nod, taking a sip of your beer.

“Do you game?”

“I watch gamers more than I play, you know, something to have on in the background while I study.” Your eyes meet, and you quickly look away.

There’s something in your body language that is throwing Wonwoo off, and the fact that you’ve just mentioned you watch streamers is a bit of an indicator that things might not be all that they seem with you.

Could you know who he is?

Was bringing you up here a mistake?

If you’ve ever seen one of his Twitch streams, will you be able to make the connection between him and the room?

It’s not like his streams show a lot of the room, but they show enough- and neon blue is a bit of a signature colour of his. 

Neither of you say anything, and then you take a quick breath. “Anyways, I’m here with my friend Tina, and she’s probably wondering where I am-”

“You should get back to it then,” Wonwoo tells you.

“Yeah. But uh… we’re still on for our library study thing on Monday, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” 

Five:

When No Face puts up a new video on his OnlyFans, you take the opportunity to get a better look at his bedroom.

Two seconds into the video you’re convinced that your quiet history partner is, in fact, the notorious faceless gamer turned cam boy, and it makes your stomach turn into knots.

Is it bad to keep watching this, knowing what you now know?

Is it… disrespectful to Wonwoo to be watching him? To have your hand slowly snaking into your pants as your pussy gets wetter by the second? 

Do you have any chance with him?

Is this whole thing a dream?

You’ve been obsessed with one gamer/cam boy in your life, and suddenly he’s your history partner?

You thank whatever God is out there for this coincidental and miraculous turn of events, and you let out a breath as you begin to toy with your clit, relaxing against your pillows.

No Face has such a pretty cock. It’s the perfect size, and it looks even better with his long, slender fingers wrapped around it.

You listen to his quiet moans, and they urge you to echo them as you masturbate in your room.

Wonwoo’s only ever filmed himself. He’s a strictly solo man… there’s a possibility you have a chance with him romantically - or maybe even just sexually. If he gives you any chance at all, you’ll take it, everything else be damned.

Wonwoo is even more gorgeous than you’d ever imagined the anonymous No Face being, and this time, when you close your eyes to listen to the cam boy moan, you imagine your history partner above you, his hand down your pants as he rubs you closer and closer to the edge. 

Six:

You need at least one citation from a physical book for your report, so today, you and Wonwoo are perusing amongst the shelves, searching for a few titles you have identified for possible quotes.

Your heart is racing just from being near Wonwoo, and you sense his gaze more often than not.

“You okay?” Wonwoo asks.

“Hmm?”

“You’re quiet today.”

“I’m always quiet,” you retort… quietly. 

Wonwoo releases a chuckle, and you think it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him smile. The sight of his pretty pearly whites, the sharp canines, the way his eyes crinkle- it has your stomach erupting with butterflies.

“More quiet than usual,” Wonwoo corrects himself.

“I think you’re more talkative than usual,” you point out.

“Maybe.” 

You take a breath, wondering if you should tell him that you know who he is. 

If you tell him, it’s an admission that you’ve seen his Twitch or his OnlyFans- and you wonder if that will make him uncomfortable.

The two of you are quiet for another couple of minutes, but finally, you can’t take it anymore.

“I’m just going to say it,” you blurt out, drawing his eyes. “I know who you are.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re No Face, aren’t you?”

Wonwoo is quiet.

A groan escapes you. “Fuck, this whole thing is so uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have said anything, because now it’s going to make you uncomfortable-”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he interjects.

“You’re not?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Just wondering which platform you’ve watched me on.”

Your heart lurches violently in your chest, and your throat all but closes up again. You choke a little on your response. “I, uh- I-”

“I’m guessing both,” Wonwoo concludes.

You’re gaze moves down the floor immediately, that familiar heat blooming through your skin, a sign of the embarrassment that surges through you.

“It’s kind of hot that you’ve watched me before,” Wonwoo sighs. “How could you tell it was me?”

“Your hands,” you say meekly.

“My hands?” You can hear the shock in his voice. “Wow, you must watch me a lot.”

“I do,” another half whimpered response, an embarrassed admittance of your cam boy loving ways.

“Don’t be shy about it,” Wonwoo tells you, and he steps closer. You instinctively move back, only for your shoulders to bump into the shelves behind you. It’s interesting how suddenly your history partner has changed from shy boy Wonwoo, to confident cam boy No Face, and you can feel your core getting wetter with each tension fueled moment. “I appreciate you being transparent with me.”

You finally look up at him, and you catch Wonwoo’s gaze dip to your lips.

Before you can even register what’s happening, Wonwoo is leaning in, and your body reacts on it’s own accord.

Your arms throw themselves around the back of his neck, and you press your lips to his. Your chests meet as Wonwoo wraps you in his embrace, his mouth hot as it moves on your own. He pushes you back against the shelves and you can’t even find it within yourself to care that you’re making out with him in a library.

There’s no shame as you make out with Wonwoo, accepting his tongue into your mouth with a delighted groan, there’s only intense pleasure, and an ecstasy like feeling of absolute elatedness that you’ve never experienced in your whole life.

Then- a sound in the periphery of your surroundings makes you jump, and you pull away from Wonwoo, looking around wildly.

“Shit,” you whisper, tearing yourself out of his embrace. “This was- uh, that was- um… I have to go!”

You find yourself running away, and you’re not even sure why. All you know is that you’re completely overwhelmed, and once again, being in the presence of the notorious No Face has you needing air like a fish out of water needs H2O.

Seven:

You shouldn’t be shocked when Wonwoo sits next to you in history class. He doesn’t say anything, but half way through the seminar, his hand moves to your knee.

Your heart is racing in your chest, a mix of anxiety and excitement. He hasn’t reached out to you since you ran away from him in the library, and you have no idea where you stand with him, so instead, you just stare at his hand.

There’s this general sense that you both deeply want each other, and it distracts you all the way until class is over. 

As students stand up around you, hurrying to their next engagements, you turn to look at Wonwoo.

“What are we doing?”

“A project.”

“You know what I mean,” you sigh.

“We’re doing whatever you want.”

“Okay,” you take a breath. “But I’m shy, I don’t normally do hookups, and-”

“I don’t do hookups either.” 

“You don’t?”

“There’s a reason I do solos,” Wonwoo points out.

“I guess that’s true.”

“Does the whole No Face thing bug you?” he enquires.

“Not really,” you admit. “I mean, in this day and age, most people have done it. Not me, but, you know, most people.”

Wonwoo lets out a chuckle, then it dies down. “So… do you want to be there for my next stream? You know, sitting behind the camera, watching?”

You swear it’s as if there’s a flood in your panties, and your heart leaps like a professional olympic high jumper.

“Yes,” you squeak.

Wonwoo smiles broadly. “This will be fun.”

Eight:

You’re sitting on Wonwoo’s bed, body tense with anticipation.

His camera is set up, and it’s the only thing between the two of you as he lounges in his gaming chair.

The neon blue purge mask is obscuring his features, but you can feel his eyes on you. He’s hit the record button, and you’re committed to being a silent watcher as Wonwoo visibly slips into his No Face alter ego.

There’s something about the way his shoulders drop, the way he tilts his head back, exposing his pretty throat as he gets comfortable in the chair.

Wonwoo’s hand drops down to the front of his pants, and he palms himself gently, releasing a sigh.

“Feels good,” he muses, voice deeper than it usually is in every day life. “Wish it was your hands touching me though.” 

Your body tingles with the realization he’s talking to you. Sure, he dirty talks for his shows all the time, but today, it’s different.

Today, No Face is literally talking directly to you, but all his words will be eaten up by his subscribers too. It’s your very own personal cam show, and no one else ever has to know.

“Are you going to get started too, baby?” Wonwoo asks. “I can’t be the only one getting off, and we both know you’re here watching this because you want something in return. So don’t be shy.”

You swallow thickly, heart racing in your chest.

“How about this, I strip tease for you, and in return, you get yourself ready for me?” he suggests.

It’s almost hard to breathe now, but you nod, staring directly at Wonwoo. You know his eyes are on you. At this point, it’s clear he’s ignoring the camera completely, but with his face obscured by the mask, his subscribers will be none the wiser to the true event taking place.

Wonwoo starts by gently lifting up his shirt, exposing hard abs and a lean muscled body that has your core already throbbing with need.

Compression shirts are part of his brand, so Wonwoo stops the teasing there, hands instead dropping to the belt of his black jeans. He’s slow with undoing it, slow with the way his long fingers toy with his button and zipper.

He releases a sigh as he lifts his hips, pushing his pants down to his knees. His thighs bulge where they press against the black leather of his gaming chair, but the bulge in his underwear is even bigger, and it makes you unconsciously lick your lips as your eyes stay glued to every motion.

“Come on, baby, be good for me,” Wonwoo tells you, and it snaps you out of your trance.

You realize you need to be doing something too- that’s the whole intrigue of this. Wonwoo gets off on camera, and you get off behind it. Mutual masturbation, in the sexiest possible form.

Truly no hands on, just self gratification while watching the other pleasure themself.

You remove your shirt, and Wonwoo lets out a groan. “That’s it.”

Deciding to keep your bra on for now, your hands slip to your own pants, and you carefully take them off. 

“Want to see you,” Wonwoo says, palming himself through his underwear.

Your hands are shaking as you remove your panties, body alight with energy. It’s not shyness per se- more like shock that you’re even in this situation.

You want it, so fucking bad, but it’s a truly difficult thing to wrap your head around. This situation is unlike anything you could have imagined in your wildest dreams, and you’ve never been more turned on in your entire life.

You’re now bare on your lower half, and you relax against the bed, lifting your legs so your feet are on the mattress, your pussy spread for Wonwoo.

He releases another deep groan, shifting his own underwear down.

His beautiful cock slaps up against his stomach, and he immediately wraps a hand around it. 

There’s a bottle of lube next to him, and you watch him spurt some onto his palm, when he brings it to his cock again, you begin to touch your pussy.

You start with your clit, drawing slow cirlces while Wonwoo strokes himself, matching your pace.

“Mmm, that’s good,” Wonwoo muses, relaxing back against his gaming chair. His head lolls back, but you know his eyes are still entirely focused on you. “I know you’re feeling good too, aren’t you, baby?”

Since he’s on camera, you know you can’t make a sound, but you nod aggressively, swallowing the lump in your throat as you apply more pressure to your clit.

“That’s it, rub harder,” Wonwoo encourages you. “Bet you’re all nice and wet for me already, huh?”

It’s hard to hold in the moan that threatens to escape you, but you nod again, biting your lip to force yourself not to make a sound.

“I can just imagine your mouth on my cock, sucking me so good,” Wonwoo says. “How I’d grab your hair and help you find a rhythm. Bet you’d kind of love choking on it, love the way tears roll down your cheeks as I use you.”

Your toes curl at his words, and you rub your clit even harder, the knots in your stomach tightening deliciously.

“When you got me to the edge, I’d switch things up. I’d lay you down on the bed, eating you out until you cum on my tongue, until your thighs are shaking around my head. I’d hold you down too, because I know you’d like that. Something tells me you want to be dominated, and I could show you what that’s like.”

It’s as if he’s read your mind, as if he knows you better than you know yourself.

“Once you’re good and ready, I’d finally give you my cock,” Wonwoo groans, increasing the pace of his strokes along his length. “Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Love to have me spreading open your insides and fucking you stupid.”

Your breathing is shaky as you rub your clit, your heart racing in your chest. Your eyes close a little as you focus on the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that’s beginning to blossom inside of you.

“I think you should slip a finger in, baby, imagine it’s mine.”

Your eyes snap open again as you stare at him.

“Come on, do as I say.”

With a shaky hand, you bring your fingers to your core, slipping one into your obscenely wet hole.

“Hmm, that’s it,” Wonwoo groans. “Bet you wish it was bigger though, huh?”

You nod, biting your lip even harder in an effort to control yourself.

“Add another finger then. They’re still not as big as mine, but you can dream, right?”

God, you were not mentally prepared for this.

To be the sole focus of No Face is the most sinfully wonderful thing you could ever experience, and the way your body reacts to his commands- following through without your mind even registering it now-

Wonwoo has you in a daze, and you kind of love it.

“Fuck that pussy with those tiny fingers, baby,” Wonwoo encourages you. “I wanna hear it.”

You’re so wet you’re almost afraid his camera will be able to pick up the sound of your squelching pussy, but fuck it- he’s given you a command so you’ll follow through.

“That’s it, feels good, huh?”

You can see he’s stroking his cock harder, and it makes your mouth begin to salivate as you watch.

“Do you think you’re close, baby?” Wonwoo asks. 

You nod.

“I’m close too, something about this has me hornier than usual. Thinking about tasting you, about fucking you with my fingers then railing you with my cock- you’re doing something to me, baby, and I know I’m doing something to you too.”

You nod again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Rub your clit again, want to watch you cum for me.”

You do as he says, and you bite hard on your lip again, throwing your head back, eyes closing as you focus on the feeling.

Wonwoo begins to moan as he watches you, and you’ve seen enough videos of his to know that this is a sign he’s near the edge too.

You can hear the wet slapping of his lubed hand now, and you know he’s beating himself off hard and fast- you bet he wishes it was your pussy on his cock right now, and it makes your toes curl again as you get closer and closer to your own high.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Wonwoo moans. “Come on, you can cum for me.”

You nod, muscles tightening to an impossible limit-

“That’s it, that’s it-”

Wonwoo’s encouragement throws you over the edge and you fall backward onto his bed, grabbing a pillow to put over your face, muffling your moans as your orgasm washes through you.

Your whole body is throbbing with sexual energy, thighs already shaking as you continue to rub yourself through it- having not received a command that you could stop.

You pray to God that the pillow is enough to muffle your sounds, because the whimpers escaping you are no longer something you can keep in- especially when Wonwoo releases a grunt of his own, a sign that he’s cum too.

A shiver of tingles errupts through you at the notion that he’s tipped over the edge, that the two of you have cum together in a situation like this.

Your mind is practically blank except for this moment, and as your orgasm dies down, you can’t ignore the racing of your heart in your chest.

“That’s a good girl,” Wonwoo groans, voice drawing you back to reality.

You move the pillow away, pulling your hand from your core as you sit up again, blinking at Wonwoo.

He’s cum all over his chest, and it’s a big load too- fuck, part of you wants to just lick it up.

“You were a good girl for me tonight,” Wonwoo says. “Such a good girl.”

He’s gently toying with his cock still, but finally he stops, and after a deep sigh, he turns off the camera.

The two of you sit there in silence for a moment, and once Wonwoo has the cap back on his camera’s lens, he pulls off his mask.

His skin is flushed, and he looks absolutely beautiful. There’s nothing like a post orgasmic glow to bring light to someone’s eyes.

“You good?” he asks, voice returning to its normal tone.

“That was amazing,” you whisper.

“I can’t believe you’re seriously okay with all of this,” Wonwoo admits with a sigh, running a hand through his unruly curls before reaching for some tissue to begin wiping up his mess.

“I am.”

He chuckles. “I can tell you’re overwhelmed though.”

“Maybe a little,” you admit, anticipation bubbling through you.

“I think it’s best if we call it a night.” Wonwoo says, and something sinks within your chest at his words. “I want to fuck you, I do, but… I want to give you time to think about all of this.”

“I have thought about all of this,” you counter.

“You’ve thought about fucking No Face, but off camera, I’m just Wonwoo, and I don’t want you to be disappointed with… the reality of me. No Face is a persona, and I need to know you understand that.”

You consider his words, and nod. “I’ll spend some time thinking about all of this.”

“But we’re still on for studying in a couple of days, right?”

“Regardless of us, we have a project to finish,” you nod. 

Wonwoo smiles. “Thanks for coming today, it made a difference.”

Nine:

The two of you are studying in Wonwoo’s room, and as hours pass by, it’s getting harder and harder for you to focus.

There’s a tension in the space that you could cut with a knife, and your panties have been wet since you arrived.

In the past couple of days, you’ve given the whole situation a lot of thought… and you may have rewatched the camshow you did with him about a hundred times too.

“Wonwoo?” you ask, putting your laptop to the side.

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to talk to you about us.” 

He gives you space to continue and you take a breath. 

“I know that the whole No Face thing is a persona, and while he’s not you, he’s still part of you. Despite that, I like who you are too. You’re calm, and smart, and level-headed- and respectful too. Most men wouldn’t have done what we did and let me go home to process the situation. You could tell I was overwhelmed and you didn’t take advantage of me, which shows you’re respectful too. I think… you and I are kindred souls, and I’d like the opportunity to get to know you better, the real you, not No Face.” 

Wonwoo nods, and you can tell he’s thinking about what you’ve just said. “I want to know you better too. I never thought I’d find a cute, shy girl who would be okay with the whole OnlyFans thing. You’re quiet, but you’re kinky, like me, and I really like that.”

Your skin heats at his words, and a smile works its way onto your lips.

“Doing this project has been great,” Wonwoo continues. “We work well together, and yeah… I like you a lot. I want to give it a try too.”

“Good.” You take a breath, sitting up to move closer to him. “So… I think we’ve done enough studying, don’t you?”

Wonwoo chuckles. “Feeling needy, huh?”

“You’ve got a half chub already, so don’t talk to me about feeling needy,” you tease with a grin.

“Talking back, are you?”

“You said it yourself, you’re not No Face, you’re Wonwoo. No Face is a dominant, but Wonwoo… I’m getting vibes from you that you’re something else.”

He cocks his head to the side, looking at you with a smile. “I guess you know the real me better than I realized.”

“You talk a big game about being a dominant on cam, but… my guess is you’re softer in person, softer like this.” You reach out to stroke his face, and Wonwoo leans into your palm.

“Are you okay with soft?”

“I’m okay with a mixture,” you tell him. “Whatever feels right in the moment.”

“Part of me wants to fuck the shit out of you,” Wonwoo notes. “But… as a first time, another part of me wants to just be nice.”

“Then be nice, you can be rough later, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“You better.”

You move his laptop out of the way, swinging your leg over his hips so you can mount him where he’s seated on the bed.

His hands find your waist, and he looks up at you. God, he truly is so beautiful. 

You’ve kissed him before in the library, but that had been all fire, all passion, all pent up tension- as you lean down to press your lips to his now, you get the sense that everything about this interaction will be softer.

He’s not playing off as his alter ego, he knows you accept the real him, that you want to experience Wonwoo tonight, not No Face. 

As amazing as No Face was, you don’t want him to think that’s all you’re here for.

He kisses you gently, one hand moving up to cup your cheek. His tongue is tentative as it runs along your bottom lip, asking for entry instead of demanding it.

You tilt your head a little to make things easier as the kiss deepens, his fingers digging into your hip.

You begin to grind down against him, enjoying the pressure on your clit. He’s already hard, and you know he wants this as badly as you do, which lights a fire in the pit of your stomach.

With one movement, Wonwoo has you both rolling, and you end up with your back pressed to the bed, Wonwoo on top of you.

Now it’s his turn to grind down against you, and you kiss him harder, whimpering against his lips.

One of his hands snakes up to your breast, and he squeezes you through your shirt, groaning at the way you fit in his palm.

“Can I take care of you?” he asks.

“You can do anything you want,” you assure him, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

Wonwoo’s lips move to your throat, and then the swell of your cleavage. You throw your head back, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation.

He’s gentle when he removes your shirt, followed quickly by your bra, and then his mouth is on your chest again. His lips are soft as they suck on your nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

Your hands find their way to his hair, tangling in his curls as you enjoy the worship he’s providing you. Wonwoo takes his time with your breasts, and you can feel your pussy throbbing- you wonder if this is what blue balls feels like for men- this insatiable need to have attention on your core instead of the erogenous zone he’s currently enjoying.

Soon, Wonwoo’s mouth is moving down your body, and he slips onto the floor next to the bed. He takes off your pants and panties, moving slowly as if to give you time to change your mind.

But you’re not going to change your mind.

You want this more than you’ve ever wanted everything, and as he drags you to the edge of the bed, intent on eating your pussy like he’d talked about on cam, you give yourself over to him fully.

His hands massage your legs, and he peppers kisses up your calf, tickling your knee as he moves to your thighs.

Your legs adjust over his shoulders, and his hands grab at your hips as he leans in for his first lick of your pussy.

The contact of his tongue on your clit has you releasing a squeal of delight, your entire boy tingling with pleasure.

You can feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you as he begins to eat you out, his tongue pushing into your wet pussy before flicking back up to your sensitive bud again.

“Feels good!” you tell him, muscles already beginning to tighten with pleasure.

His fingers get a better grip on you, one hand moving to your thigh to hold you in place as he devours you.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and it’s a sensation that has your entire body reacting, the cord in your stomach tightening even more-

No one has eaten you out in practically forever, and to be having a man worship you like this- it’s getting you closer to the edge, faster than anyone else before.

“Shit,” you whimper, tangling your fingers in his hair again, back arching as the pleasure begins to build.

Wonwoo doesn’t relent, he eats you out like a starved man, his eagerness only growing with each second-

Your whimpers are getting louder, the sensation building more and more-

“I’m gonna cum!” you announce, eyes clenching shut as you teeter on the edge-

Suddenly two fingers are slipping into your pussy, crooking up so his digits can touch your sweet spot, at the same time, he sucks roughly on your clit and that’s all it takes to make you cum.

You gasp, your orgasm exploding inside of you unlike any other.

It’s all consuming in the best possible way, your body throbbing with unknown pleasure.

Wonwoo continues to finger fuck you, working you through it as wave after wave of ecstasy consumes you.

Your clit is almost too sensitive now, your thighs shaking, muscles beginning to hurt from the power of your high.

“Fuck, Wonwoo-” you whimper, pushing at his head.

He pulls away from your clit, his fingers slowing inside of you, and you can feel his eyes.

“You good?” he asks.

“Fuck, that was so good-” you groan, another shiver erupting through you when he strokes your inner walls again. “Need more.”

“Need what?”

“Your cock,” you tell him. “Need it so bad.”

“I’ll grab a condom,” Wonwoo muses, pulling his fingers out of your pussy only to plop them into his mouth.

As he stands, you freeze. “Wait! I’m on birth control!”

He stops, looking down at you. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I’m on birth control, yes.”

“No, I mean, are you sure about unprotected sex?”

“Well… I’m clean,” you point out. “I haven’t had sex in forever-”

“Me neither,” he admits. “Other than, you know, sex with my own hand.”

You stare at him for a moment, and from the way he cracks a smile, you know he’s making a joke. So you begin to laugh too.

“How have we both not gotten laid in a while?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Guess we’re both pretty shy.”

“And school is busy,” you point out.

“School, gaming and OnlyFans is definitely a lot,” he agrees, pulling off his shirt then kicking down his pants. “Move up to the pillows for me, want you to be comfortable.”

You do as he says, watching eagerly as he gets fully naked for you. 

God, his cock is even prettier up close, and you bite your tongue as he gets onto the bed with you. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively, and you pull him in for a passionate kiss.

He begins to grind down against you, stimulating your oversensitive clit in a way that has you squealing with delight.

“I like your sounds,” Wonwoo muses, lips moving to your throat and ear, where he gently bites your lobe. “Was a shame I didn’t get to hear them during the cam show.”

“I tried to be good and quiet for you.”

“You were very good for me,” Wonwoo groans, voice dropping into the No Face cadence, which has your stomach flip flopping, pussy getting even wetter.

Wonwoo reaches between your bodies, adjusting the tip of his cock to your pussy. “You said you haven’t been fucked in a while,” he muses, “so if this hurts, or you need me to go slow, or stop-”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure him, cupping his face. “Just fuck me, please.”

Wonwoo kisses you then, slowly pushing his rock hard cock into you as you whimper and claw at his shoulders.

He fills you so well- your inner walls finally receiving attention from a real sized cock after way too long.

Your fingers - hell, even his fingers - don’t do his full length justice, and it feels like heaven once he’s fully bottomed out.

You both release a low groan, your toes curling with pleasure.

“I’m good,” you tell him, pressing kisses to his throat as your fingers explore his broad shoulders. “Feels good.” 

“You feel good,” he counters, beginning to move.

The drag of his cock along your core has you groaning, eyes closing as pleasure consumes you.

“Shit,” you whimper, holding him tighter.

“Shit,” Wonwoo echos again, picking up his pace.

You lay there, enjoying everything he’s giving you. As himself, Wonwoo’s not much of a talker, but you’re okay with that. The two of you simply gasp and moan as conversation, and you enjoy the feral aspect of sex, the part where you’re both overcome by the feeling of each other, so overcome that words aren’t even necessary.

Wonwoo presses his lips to yours again, kissing you fiercely as he fucks you harder and harder, until his bed is rocking and you’re scared people outside his door will be able to hear you moaning. 

But part of you doesn’t even care, you don’t want to hold yourself back with Wonwoo anymore, not like you did when he was on cam. No, you want him to hear every whimper, every groan, every squeal of pleasure as he fucks you better than anyone else ever has.

There’s a connection here, a spark, and it lights a fire inside you as Wonwoo fucks you for the very first time.

It’s passionate as you remain lip locked, your hands grabbing at his strong shoulders.

You don’t even care that it’s clear this will be a one position fuck session. Missionary has always been one of the more boring ways to fuck, but with Wonwoo- it’s downright magical. There’s nothing like it, being pressed chest to chest- as close as you can be as you do this.

Wonwoo’s groans are magic too, and they have your pussy throbbing depserately around him-

Then he slips his hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit-

Your pussy clamps down on him, a gasp escaping you as you break the kiss to look up at him.

“Want you to cum with me,” Wonwoo groans. “Please.”

You can’t respond, all you can do is focus on the building sensation- and in no time at all, you’re tipping over the edge with a loud moan.

Wonwoo returns your sound with a grunt, burying his face against your throat as he cums with you.

Your pussy throbs around him, milking Wonwoo of all he’s worth as he moans in your ear, fucking you through it all.

His hair is tickling your cheek, but you can’t even care as the orgasm swells through you like the waves of a warm summer ocean.

Your chests are still pressed together, and you can feel the beating of his heart. It’s almost dizzying, feeling this connected to another person, and it leaves your mind blank as you enjoy it.

Your arms are wrapped around him, cuddling Wonwoo close as his motions come to a stop, and then you just pant together, doing your best to catch your breaths.

You stroke his hair, releasing a deep sigh.

Wonwoo presses one last kiss to your throat before pulling away. “How do you feel?” he asks.

“Perfect.”

Wonwoo grins. “Me too.” 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This was so fun to write, I can't wait to explore this au more in other chapters!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. You know there will be no more rough housing, no more use of the paddle, because No Face might be somewhat of a sadist, but Wonwoo is a pussy whipped softie, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, foreplay, dirty talk, blow job, pussy eating, hand job, commanding/dominant alter ago Wonwoo, use of paddle, impact play, pain kink, fingering, slight sadism Wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of sex toys, creampie, etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3k I teaser wc. 110

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

You love Wonwoo. You love him for all that he is, No Face and all, and you also love that despite his online alter ego, he’s very soft and giving in bed. However… sometimes, you just want to be man handled and dirty talked until your head spins, and your lovely boyfriend is more than willing to provide that for you on special occasions.

Today is your birthday, and after you’re done classes, you go back to your apartment to shower and get ready.

You’ve bought a very sexy outfit. Garter connected fishnets, a black push-up bra, a corset, sexy high heels, and a thong to complete the whole look.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@meowniee - @learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @sourkimchi

As I was short on time this month and unable to do a teaser, here's another shout out to some of my favourite blogs who interact with my work, I love you guys endlessly

@bobathi - @amazinggraxia - @bluempire425-blog -

@twililty - @cheolaholic - @babieculture

@meowniee - @ridenotpark - @ollieollieoctopus

@axo-l0tl - @blspphr3 - @roseandpeaches

[simpjaes]

who in enha do you think would take you on a dinner date while ur plugged with a vib and he has the remote >•<

hyung line vibes

★ heeseung:

he's the one who suggested it, buying the remote control vibe as a surprise for you before watching you open the package with a mischievous lil smirk. "come on, just wear it to dinner with me tonight!" and "i promise, i won't go too crazy with it." are his main arguments, and shame on you for believing him. heeseung is the worst when he's sitting across from you with those big, fake-innocent eyes blinking at you, waiting for you to break. He turns the nob up, up, up, til he can hear the vibration inside of you hitting the seat under you. And still, he's smile. "What's wrong baby? you haven't even touched your food," he'd pout at you, watching you sweat and struggle to pretend you're okay before catching your breath.

heeseung would be evil with it.

☆ jake:

desperate to see you cum everywhere, all the time. you're the one who originally suggested it, just as a fun little anniversary thing you guys could do, but it was game over the second he saw you struggle to hide your pleasure in the face of a waitress asking if you'd like broccoli or fries as a side. You don't exactly regret asking him to try it with you, but goddamn, he doesn't give it a rest. you'll need to go to the fucking grocery store because you forgot flour or something and here comes turbovibeman, prancing to you with that thing and putting it in you himself , with a hand down your pants and another holding you tight against him so you can't wiggle away. that grin on his face wide, like "you always pretend to hate it, but you jump me the second we get into the car." sadly, you can't argue with that.

you're into it, it's just more fun to act annoyed and fight him on it. additionally, jake probably would buy one for himself too, asking you to fuck him up in the middle of dinner, or the grocery store.

★ sunghoon:

kinda shy about it but you know he's a goddamn liar. You bought it, you put it in you, you held the remote in your bag up until the two of you got your food, then you slid it across the table at him. "Go on, push a button." you'd urge him, and ofc he'd look at you with a raised brow, thinking his girl done went crazy or something. He does push the button, and in that moment he watches you jolt. You practically see him making the connection before he smirks, narrowing his eyes at you and turning it all the way up. It's...too much. It makes you too sensitive. And when you look at him with pleading eyes, almost moaning out, he just smiles and sips his water with a death grip on the remote. "You knew i would." He comments. You did know. You played yourself with this one.

☆ jay:

the type to moan with you even though he's neglected. the type to get up mid-dinner, forget to pay for the meal, and walk out with a very blatant hard-on in his pants, dragging you out so he can fuck :( i almost think jay would enjoy it, but i also am very biased and believe he'd do it for you, but suffer watching you feel good over a silicone toy in you. Yeah, he's controlling it, but!!!! that could be his fingers!! his mouth!!!! his cock!!!! not saying he'd get jealous of the toy, but he would, and that would even be part of the fun for you. It's not even you who ends up edged when you guys do this, it's him. Watching you like that kills him, seeing you get so close, makes him struggle not to lay you out right there on the table and fuck you for everyone to see :( but hey, he suffers for you, and you suffer for it. true love baby!!!!

[hencheri]

▸ 18+ mdni.

haechan catches you peeping on him.

| pairing. haechan x peeping tom!reader

| warnings. dubcon, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, mean!haechan.

| wc. 2k

haechan’s house is really neat. even the rooms you expect to be a little messier, like the bathroom and kitchen, are perfectly organized and clean. apart from some used dishes in the sink and a book on the couch, everything is put away in its respective place. 

it’s as if his home is unoccupied at how neat it is, but the decoration here and there, and the opened mail on the kitchen counter tell you otherwise. 

it’s chic, pearly white walls with some touches of grey and black on the furniture. really modern too, with big windows that allow the sunlight to illuminate the house during the early hours of the day. 

there’s no more sunlight now as it is late in the evening, but it’s still really beautiful, the living room being lit up by the street lamps outside and the bright moon in the sky. 

haechan always keeps a spare key hidden in a pot beside the backdoor. that’s how you managed to get inside without triggering the safety alarm. you’re careful to not turn on any lights, but you’re also grateful he has the habit of keeping the ceiling light of the kitchen on, so you can walk through the first floor without any issue. 

you don’t touch a lot of things there, mainly because you don’t want to take the risk and what really interests you is upstairs. you quickly look through the bathroom, but most of his personal stuff is in the other one where you know he has his expensive shampoo and cologne. 

you eventually go upstairs. you first enter his bedroom and it’s really cozy, smelling so much like him. his bed is made, his laptop sitting on top of the thick covers, and his slippers are beside the nightstand, ready for when he returns.

you’re tempted to open his laptop, and so you get on his bed, placing the electronic device before you, pulling the lid up. 

unfortunately, it’s protected by a password. before you can even try to type something on the keyboard, you hear the front door opening. 

you immediately start to panic, closing the lid of the laptop hurriedly, stepping on your feet and searching for a hiding spot. you don’t have much time as you hear the sounds of him walking upstairs, reaching for the door of the closet.

he enters his room with a groan, dropping his phone on his bed. 

you cover your mouth with your hand so he doesn’t hear your rapid breathing, watching him through the blinds of the closet’s door.

he goes to the dresser in front of his bed and looks at himself briefly in the mirror, passing his hand through his long black locks. he licks his lips before pulling his t-shirt over his head by the collar and putting it in the laundry basket. he remains in his grey sweatpants, hanging a bit low on his hips.

you feel your face heating up at the sight of haechan shirtless, his honey skin revealed to you. he’s literally breathtaking. 

he disappears to the bathroom, you assume to take a shower as you hear the water running. he comes back 10 minutes later, now laying down in bed, picking up his laptop. 

he first types out things on his keyboard, and you think that he might be answering emails. then, you’re not sure of what he’s doing, browsing through the internet, clicking on some things you obviously can’t see from where you’re hiding. 

you’re thinking about how you will be able to leave. perhaps when he’ll be asleep, but you know he’s a very light sleeper, you could wake him up. you come to the conclusion that the safest way will be tomorrow when he’ll be off to work. you’ll have to stay in this closet for a couple of hours…

your attention is back quickly on haechan as he starts palming himself over his sweats, feminine moans being heard, coming from a video playing on his laptop. it doesn’t take you long to understand what exactly he’s watching, his hand gripping and squeezing his cock still trapped in his pants.

he wets his pink lips with his tongue, eyes staring at the screen of his computer, a mix of squelching noises and high-pitched moans echoing in the room. he reaches into his sweatpants, stroking his engorged cock and letting out a groan. 

your cheeks are definitely on fire now. they are burning, and so is your core, heating up more and more at the sinful scene in front of you. you try to calm down because you really don’t want haechan to know you’re here, but it’s so difficult, feeling the urge to ease the ache between your legs. 

the urge to come out of the closet and finally do what you dream of everyday…

he pushes down his sweats, bringing his briefs with them, freeing his pulsating erection. his hand grips his cock again, and he parts his legs wider, stroking himself at a slow pace. his mouth is ajar to let out shallow breaths, having to lick his lips multiple times to hydrate them. 

you can’t believe this is really happening right now. after all, you’re into haechan’s intimacy, and he doesn’t know that you’re here… you should have anticipated something like that could happen, but to be honest, you’re not displeased, quite the opposite. 

his breath has become more erratic and the pace of his hand goes faster. the head of his cock glistens under the light of his bedroom, spreading his pre-cum all over his girth. 

“fuck,” he curses under his breath as he comes too close to his orgasm, stopping his movements and squeezing the base of his cock while throwing his head back. 

his chest heaves up and down rapidly, and after a few seconds, haechan looks back at the screen of his computer, stroking his cock with his fist. 

you can clearly feel the pulse between your legs and the sticky feeling in your panties is almost embarrassing, your face burning hot. there’s no way your panties are not soaking in your arousal right now.

his bangs get into his eyes, so he passes a hand through his hair, pushing the strands away, but they fall right back in front of his eyes when he moves his head slightly down. he lets out a moan, slowing his pace when he feels his high coming, starting up once again as he can’t help but pleasure himself. 

your eyes travel his body, and the need to touch your own is too strong to ignore, your hand lingering over your core. your gaze goes up to his chest, a thin layer of sweat covering his skin. you look down to his subtle abs, then to his crotch, the area that catches your attention the most. 

you know haechan is about to cum when he accelerates the pace of his hand, rubbing his cock until his thighs tense up as well as his stomach, reaching his high. a low and high-pitched moan escapes his mouth as his cock spurts out long ropes of cum, landing on his abdomen, more coming out and dripping down over his hand. 

at this, you quickly rub your clit over your panties, cumming at the same time as him with your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. 

but you’re too lost in your own lust that you accidentally make a hanger fall, alerting haechan of your presence. you internally curse yourself, not even down from your orgasm that you already get caught. 

you pray in silence, but after whipping his cum off his stomach and pausing the video, haechan gets up from his bed, pulling his sweats up. you watch him approaching the closet, absolutely terrified. 

you shut your eyes, hoping that he doesn’t see you, but you have to be really dumb to think he won’t. 

“who the fuck are you?” 

you’re in trouble.

you open your eyes and slowly look up to see him staring down at you with a confused—no, furious—expression on his face. he’s not even freaked out or weirded out, he’s mad.

“were you watching me? you fucking creep,” he insults, and you won’t lie that it hurts you a little. you didn’t mean this to happen. 

you don’t say anything, a knot in your throat forming as you feel tears appearing in your eyes. oh, god… this is so not how you wanted it to end up. 

“come here…” he says through gritted teeth, grabbing your arm and pulling you up to your feet. he towers over you and you can feel how pissed off he is just by the way he’s looking at you. 

he drags you out of his room, not addressing you a single word as he brings you to the first floor and to the door leading downstairs. 

“wait-” you choke out as you realize what he’s going to do, “please, don’t!” 

he opens the door and shoves you inside, almost making you fall down the stairs. when he lets go of your arm, you rush to get out, but he closes the door before you can. 

“no, no… please! i’m sorry!” you yell and cry, banging on the door that separates you from him.

he locks you in and he leaves you there, turning the kitchen’s lights off. you scream for him all night, but he never comes, having you sleep there without any food or water. 

in the morning, you hear him preparing himself to go to work. you scream at him again, but he doesn’t even acknowledge you. you stay by the door all day crying and sniffling, hiccuping at how intensely you cried. 

when he comes back from work, you don’t have the energy to call for him, and so you look under the door to watch his shadow. after what felt like hours, his feet finally stop in front of the basement, and you’re absolutely relieved to hear him unlocking the door.

you immediately look up at him when he opens it, but you don’t dare saying a word, too afraid to say something wrong, something that would make him lock you up in there again. 

he grabs the same arm as yesterday and you wince at the sore feeling. he held you with so much force that he left the mark of his fingers on you.

he walks you down the stairs, lighting up the basement and pushing you on the dusty couch. 

you raise your hands in front of you as defense, wanting him to calm down. “please, i didn’t-” you begin, but get cut off by him. 

“you didn’t what, huh? what haven’t you done?” he asks ironically, straddling your body sprawled out on the couch. “‘cause you broke into my house, watched me jerk off, and… snooped through my shit,” he says while tugging on your top, recognizing it as his own t-shirt. “so honestly, there’s nothing you didn’t do.”

“i’m sorry…” you only manage to respond.

he scoffs at that, shaking his head. “shut up,” he says, “you’re only sorry because you got caught, bitch.” you swallow, looking at him with glossy eyes and trembling lips. “i should call the cops on you, you know? you gotta be a fucking freak to watch me jerk off,” he laughs, mocking you. “bet you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

as if to confirm his words, he sneaks a hand under your skirt, pulling your panties to the side. he immediately feels your wetness from last night, gliding his fingers through your sticky folds. you can’t refrain the moans from slipping past your lips.

“yeah, you fucking did, nasty whore.”

he purposely rubs your clit with his finger and you flinch at the contact, seeing that you’re still very sensitive from your ruined orgasm. he removes his hand from between your legs, bringing his wet fingers to your mouth. 

“come on, open,” he instructs, and you do, welcoming his digits in. “see, i think i'm gonna keep you… gonna give you the real thing, must be boring to only always watch, no?”

[moonstruckme]

Hi,

I love your writing and your ideas.I was worried if you could write sth about remus as a detectiv. Maby he and reader meet on the job or they are partners.Do whatever you want. Hope this inspires you💗

Hi back! I love this idea and I lowkey thought I was gonna do better with it (I'm less thrilled with the results, sorry) but I hope you like it <3

cw: mention (and some vague flashback) of robbery

detective!Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Thunder booms, and you flinch. The detective’s eyebrows lift a millimeter. You pull his jacket closer over your wet clothes, embarrassed. 

“Can I make you some tea?” he offers. 

“No, thank you.” 

You sit in silence for a few heartbeats. The detective seems comfortable with it, but you squirm, his gaze too discerning for your liking. The rain you’ve both come in from has slicked a few tendrils of hair to his forehead, the rest fighting valiantly to curl at the ends. His face is scattered with scars you’d expect more from a hardened military type than a cop, and the circles under his eyes hint at more than one long night spent at the station. Nights probably not unlike this one, only a smattering of police around as he interviews you at his desk.

“Officer—” 

“Remus,” he reminds you gently. 

“Right, sorry.” Your voice quiets. Remus’ expression softens, going tender like he wants to reject your apology, but he doesn’t speak. “Don’t you have questions for me?” 

“I do,” he says, “but—I hope you’ll excuse me for saying—you seem rather shaken up.” 

A laugh, short and humorless, puffs out of you. 

“I’m not saying I don’t understand why.” His calm gaze doesn’t leave yours. “Witnesses are generally more reliable once they’ve had a chance to get comfortable, though. Process what they’ve seen.” 

Your fingers twist in the material of his jacket. You wonder if he takes your trembling for a traumatic response. It might be, you don’t know; your heart is hammering, but it’s also just cold in here. 

“How am I supposed to do that?” you ask. 

“Just like this.” One corner of Remus’ mouth lifts, just a little. You think of the classic good-cop-bad-cop routine from TV shows. You doubt they bother doing that with witnesses, but Remus seems so approachable you’re half wondering when his worse half will come in. “Chatting. Coming down from the adrenaline. Letting me get you tea.” 

“I’m really okay,” you say, doing your best to return his small smile. 

Remus’ warms in response. “As you like. Let’s start from the beginning, yeah? We can take breaks whenever you want.” 

You nod, preparing yourself. 

“What were you doing at the supermarket?” 

“I was…shopping?” Your response seems so obvious you turn it into a question unintentionally. Remus’ expression conveys understanding. He leans forward, setting his elbows on the desk casually. 

“I know it seems unimportant,” he says, “but I’m trying to get a full picture. What were you shopping for?” 

“Oh. Um, I was out of peanut butter.” 

“Was it raining when you went in?” 

You frown. He has to know the answer to that; it’s been raining all evening. “Yes.” 

“What did you do once you got there?” 

“I went to find the peanut butter. I was just barely going to the till when I…when the robbery happened.” 

You don’t realize you’ve mirrored Remus’ posture until his finger touches yours. You’re sitting with your elbows on the desk also, your hands millimeters from his. 

“How did you know it was happening?” Remus asks gently. “Did you see it, or was there a sound?” 

“A sound,” you confirm, your voice wavering a bit. The tip of his forefinger brushes against yours again. “The woman at the till shouted.” 

“What made her shout?” 

“I guess because he showed her the knife.” 

“Did you see that as well?” 

“Yeah. But not right then. She’d already opened the till by the time I got there.” 

The images in your head are already hazing over, memory fading into fiction. The way the employee’s short, frightened cry had made you look up from your phone, freezing you in your tracks just outside the refuge of an aisle. The man hadn’t known there was anyone else in the store. That was clear by the way his eyes widened above his surgical mask, swiveling impulsively to point the knife at you, wavering between two targets. The three of you caught together in a mess of panic. 

You don’t remember doing it, but later you found you’d set your jar of peanut butter down on a random shelf, as though that simple offering would appease the robber and save you any further trouble. 

“What was the person with the knife wearing?” Remus asks. 

“He had a blue jacket, like a windbreaker.” You put your chin to your shoulder, feeling the slick material of the jacket draped over your shoulders. A thoughtless, sleepy movement. “Sort of like this one. Without the police logo, obviously.” 

“About how tall would you say he was?” 

You shrug. “Taller than me. He wasn’t huge, but he was…I don’t know, he had a knife.” 

Remus hums, his finger stroking across your knuckle. He must have moved his hand closer without you noticing. “That must have been frightening.” 

You shrug again. 

He lets you stew in another long, heavy silence. Your face begins to feel hot. 

“Are you alright?” he finally asks, softly. 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “Sorry. Just, you’re right, it was scary.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” Remus’ gaze is warm. Compassionate. “I’m sure you’re tired, I don’t mean to keep you here any longer than necessary. You’ve been a big help. If it makes you feel any better, we’ve been following a robber matching this description for a while, and he doesn’t tend to repeat within the same neighborhood. So you shouldn’t worry.” 

Oh, he’s so kind. He thinks you’re all quiet and shy because you need comfort. And of course, you are rattled still, but it’s got a thing or two to do with that low voice, with those lovely, deep hazel eyes that seem soldered to yours. If Remus wants to improve your memory, he should probably stop touching your hand like a Victorian gentleman testing the bounds of propriety. 

“Do you have any more questions for me?” you ask. 

“A few,” he says, apology in his tone. “Are you sure you wouldn't like anything warm to drink? You’re shivering terribly.” 

You feel very warm, actually, but when his finger moves to your second knuckle the shivers worsen. “Um, sure. I’d have a cup of tea.”

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #15 死

† arrangements †

"You were supposed to go back to individual training sessions with Takama. But torday, it is Jeon standing there instead. And you really feel like easing off some tension."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 9k.

content: training with jeon (it gets intense), sexual tension off the roof, kissing, ass grabbing, boner popping up (lmao), cafeteria shenanigans.

☠ author's note ☠

AHHHHH MY PRECIOUS BABY CHIMCHIM (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

What are you getting yourself INTO, you financial genius disaster? Every time I write Jimin scenes I'm just sitting here like "no baby no don't do it" while simultaneously typing out exactly what he's doing. I'm his god yet I have no control. The duality of being an author.

ANYWAY, let me know your thoughts about Y/N and Jeon's little "arrangement". ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Also... the way this man goes from cheeky little shit to MAN OF STEEL in 0.2 seconds is honestly doing things to me. Like the DUALITY?? One minute he's all sarcasm and eyerolls and the next he's all commanding presence and intense stares. Please show me all your facets while I mil—

ANYWAY! 🥰

Hope you enjoy this chapter, you magnificent disaster magnets! I see you all in the comments thirsting over fictional gang members and I just want you to know I'm judging you... from my very similar position of also thirsting over fictional gang members. It's a hard life, but someone's gotta live it.

Stay hydrated! You'll need it after this chapter!

⚔ socials ⚔

read on ao3

read on wattpad

tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Training room it is today. Takama is probably waiting for you.

You step inside immediately and—fuck. The air's different. Not the usual sweaty, stale gym smell, but something...else. It's like walking into a storm front, all electric and tingly on your skin.

Weird.

You stop, blinking. Your brain's trying to process what your body already knows: something's off.

Shaking it off, you scan the room for Takama. He's usually here by now, ready to nag you about your form or whatever. But nope. Instead, your eyes land on—

Oh.

Jeon.

Shit.

Your whole body goes rigid. This is not what you signed up for today. Takama's stern but predictable. Jeon? He's a walking thunderbolt.

He hasn't clocked you yet. He's too busy with his hand-wrapping ritual, black tape winding around those knuckles like he's prepping for war. I̶t̶,̶s̶ ̶w̶e̶i̶r̶d̶l̶y̶ ̶m̶e̶s̶m̶e̶r̶i̶z̶i̶n̶g̶.̶You've tried it yourself, but you always end up looking like you got in a fight with a roll of duct tape and lost.

The door clicks shut behind you. Loud. Way too fucking loud.

Jeon's head snaps up, eyes locking onto yours. Fuck. It's like being caught in a headlight beam, but instead of deer-in-headlights frozen, you're fight-or-flight wired. His gaze is pure Kkangpae—hard, sharp, seeing right through your bullshit.

"Thought you could sneak up on me?"

You try for casual, miss by a mile. "Takama's usually not this quiet."

Jeon's mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. More like you just told a joke only he got.

Great start. This is gonna be fun.

"Takama had to handle some business. Guess you're stuck with me. It'll be good in preparation to our upcoming mission."

IIt's not a question, it's a fucking statement. And you know better than to argue with that tone.

Right. The mission.

Shit.

It all comes flooding back now. That goddamn mission assigned to you and Jeon back on the camping trip. The one where you both have to infiltrate MDF—Kkangpae's number one rival. Talk about high stakes.

You know how crucial this is. You know you need to concentrate now—more than ever.

But fuck.

Your eyes betray you, sweeping over Jeon's training attire.

It's insulting, is what it is.

That simple tank top might as well be painted on, doing jack shit to hide the sculpted landscape of his muscles. And those grey sweatpants? They're hanging so low on his hips it should be illegal.

(If you tried hard enough—which you're not, obviously—you're pretty sure you could see that happy trail you remember from that night in the tent.)

The fabric clings to him like it's got a personal vendetta against your sanity, obeying gravity with a lazy kind of insolence. And that silver neck chain? It's playing peekaboo from under his top, daring your eyes to follow its path. A metallic tease against skin you shouldn't be thinking about.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of distraction.

Focus. Mission. Training.

Not Jeon's body.

You make your way to the corner where bandages and tape are strewn across a metal shelf. The mess speaks volumes—countless sessions of wrapping, unwrapping, preparing for fights both won and lost.

Grabbing a roll of black tape, you try to mimic what you've seen Jeon do a hundred times before. But your fingers feel clumsy, uncooperative. The tape sticks to itself, to your skin, everywhere but where it's supposed to go. You end up with more gaps than protection, the wrap loose in all the wrong places.

And Jeon? He's watching you. You can feel his eyes on you, sharp and intense. His face is unreadable, a perfect mask. But you'd bet your last dollar he's judging every fumbled attempt, every misplaced piece of tape.

Then he scoffs, the sound cutting through the air like a whip crack. Before you can react, he's moving towards you—footsteps echoing in the quiet room, each one making your heart beat a little faster.

And then he's there, right in your space.

The heat rolling off his body makes you acutely aware of how cool the air is around you.

He leans in close—too close—to inspect your sad attempt at hand-wrapping.

"Let me," he growls.

You don't even try to argue. What's the point? Jeon's already unraveling your sad attempt at hand-wrapping like it's the world's shittiest birthday present.

His fingers brush against your skin and for a second it's like someone just plugged you into a live wire.

He starts rewrapping your hands, and you're caught in this weird... limbo.

Because his touch is firm, almost stern, but there's this... gentleness to it that makes no sense coming from him.

It's a mindfuck, really.

This is Jeon. Cold, distant, get-the-fuck-away-from-me Jeon.

But here he is, handling your hands like they're made of glass.

Your heart's going a mile a minute, and you're praying to whatever gang deity is out there that he can't hear it. His hands are everywhere, wrapping the tape around your wrists with a precision that's almost artistic. It's like he's crafting this black armor just for you, and every pass of the tape feels more intimate than the last.

And why the fuck does he have to smell this good? It's unfair, really.

Every now and then, his eyes flick up to meet yours, and it's... like looking into the sun peeking between the clouds.

Like something is hovering—something molten and wild that reminds you of tents and nighttime.

"Tight enough?"

You manage a nod, amazed that your brain can still form coherent thoughts.

"Perfect," you say, definitely not thinking of the innuendo.

The corner of his mouth twitches, and for a heart-stopping second, you think he's read your mind. You don't like that knowing look in his eyes.

"There," he says, giving the tape one last tug. It pulls you closer, just a fraction, but it might as well be a mile. "You're ready."

Ready for what? you want to ask. Ready for training? Ready for the mission? Ready for whatever the hell this tension between you is building towards?

But you don't say any of that. You can't. Because this is Jeon, and you're you, and there are a million reasons why this—whatever this is—can't happen.

Even if it already happened once. Even if he's there, looking like a five course meal.

So you just stand there, hands wrapped perfectly, heart racing, caught in the gravity of Jeon's presence and wondering how the fuck you're supposed to focus on training now.

"Let's get started."

It hits you like a sledgehammer to the chest—everywhere at once—this massive storm system rolling in, all dark clouds and electricity. The kind that makes your skin prickle and your hair stand on end. The training room suddenly feels too small to contain it.

Contain him.

You move to the center of the mats, too aware of every step and where your feet are landing. He's still watching you—you can feel those eyes tracking your movements like a sniper's scope.

You try to copy his stance, but it's like your body's forgotten how joints work.

Everything feels awkward.

"How are you with your blocks?"

"I can handle it," you say, going for confident but landing somewhere around defensive.

He laughs. It's not a nice sound. More like broken glass wrapped in velvet.

"We'll see about that."

Because fuck. Training with Takama was... different. Predictable. Safe, even. You knew what to expect—his patient corrections, his methodical approach.

But this?

This is like jumping into the deep end of a pool filled with sharks.

And Jeon?

He's the great white circling you.

Everything feels suffocating, like there's not enough oxygen in the room for both of you. It's hard to breathe, his presence pressing in from all sides like you're caught in a fucking typhoon. You can practically taste the ozone.

Jeon circles you lazily and honestly? It's terrifying how someone so big can move so quietly. His control is infuriating—while you're here trying not to vibrate out of your skin, he looks like he could be ordering coffee.

"You're tense."

No shit, Sherlock.

The observation hits a nerve. Maybe because it's true, maybe because you hate how easily he can read you. You try to relax your shoulders, aiming for that casual 'oh-this-is-totally-fine' vibe.

Then his hand hovers over your lower back.

You flinch. You can't help it. He's not even touching you, but you can feel the heat radiating from his palm, just a breath away from contact. He's telling you to fix your posture without a single word, and your body responds before your brain can tell it not to.

Your abdomen tightens in defiance, like some part of you is still telling him to fuck off. But you straighten up anyway, because what else can you do? Not like Mr. Perfectionist here will take anything other than perfection.

Jeon steps back, and you try to remember how breathing works. Focus. This is training, not whatever the fuck that hand-wrapping thing was. You need to get your head in the game before he notices how rattled you are.

You watch him demonstrate a block.

It's unfair, really, how he makes it look so effortless—like he's been doing this since birth. (Maybe he has—he definitely looks like he fights nurses, if his attitude with J-Hope is any indication).

His forearm cuts through the air in this fluid motion that's somehow both defensive and threatening at the same time.

"Now you," he says, and oh there it is. That hint of smugness in his voice that makes you want to either punch him or—

Absolutely not. You are not going there.

He knows though. You can tell by the way his mouth quirks up slightly at the corner. He knows exactly what he's doing, the bastard. Knows he's got you at a disadvantage with his years of experience. But there's something else there too, in the way he's watching you. Like he's getting some sort of kick out of whatever this is.

You mirror his movement, slicing your arm through the air; and it feels good—solid. Like maybe you're not completely hopeless at this.

He gives you this tiny nod, and for a split second, there's something that looks almost like approval in his eyes.

But it's gone before you can really process it, replaced by that laser-focused look he apparently gets when he's in full instructor mode (like right now).

"Again," he orders, and you comply.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Each time, the movement feels more natural, less like you're just flailing your arm around and more like you might actually be able to stop someone from punching you in the face.

And all the while, he watches like a fucking hawk. Cataloging every single one of your mistakes, every moment of hesitation.

It's intense, being under that kind of scrutiny. Makes your skin prickle.

Then he moves—just this slight shift of weight—and suddenly he's closer.

His foot nudges yours, and you get the message without him having to say a word.

Your stance is off.

You adjust quickly, shifting your feet until you feel more grounded.

"Like this," he says, and it's low and gravely.

His voice shouldn't affect you. It's just two words.

It does.

You force yourself to focus on the technical stuff. The way his feet are positioned, how his knees are slightly bent like he's ready to move at any second. And then you copy his stance, feeling the stretch in your calves as you adjust.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. Count it out in your head.

One, two, three, four.

Anything to keep your mind off the way he's circling you again.

Because that's what he's doing now—moving around you like some fucking lion sizing up a calf.

His presence is like gravity, pulling at something deep in your chest.

It's distracting as hell.

But you're determined not to let it show.

You've got something to prove here, after all. Even if you're not quite sure what that is anymore.

"Not like that", he says and...

His hand's moving again, and your brain halts all its processes when his fingertips brush your shoulder.

It's supposed to be professional. Just another training correction.

But your body didn't get that memo, because every nerve ending lights up like it's a fucking carnival.

His hand starts this slow slide down your arm, and you're pretty sure this isn't standard training procedure. Your arm quickly gets covered in goosebumps, betraying exactly how not professional this feels.

When his fingers wrap around your elbow, you almost forget how to breathe. His grip is firm—s̶e̶x̶y̶ steady—and you can feel the calluses on his fingertips from years of handling weapons.

"Your alignment," he says, and shit... His voice has dropped into that same low register he pulled back in the tent. "It's crucial. When you block, you need to be solid, unyielding. Like this."

You feel the strength in his grip all the way up your arm. The way he's holding your elbow, it feels like he's trying to rewire your muscle memory through touch alone. It's invasive in the best-worst way possible, like he's leaving his fingerprints on your bones.

You should be focusing on the block he's teaching you. That's what a good student would do.

But instead, all you can think about is how his palm is practically burning against your skin, how strong his fingers feel, and how every "correction" feels more like a caress.

When he finally lets go and steps back, it's like someone just yanked away your favorite blanket. The air feels too cold where his hand was, and you have to fight the urge to chase that warmth.

"Now, let's see you put it into action," he says.

Get it together, you tell yourself.

This is training. Just training. Nothing else.

(You don't even believe your own lies anymore.)

You try to focus on breathing. In, out. Simple stuff. But it's not working, because every time Jeon adjusts your stance, every careful correction he makes, it's like striking matches against your skin.

At this point, your brain can't string two thoughts together.

Not with Jeon there, touch somehow both grounding and displacing.

Then he's back in your space.

And his hands are suddenly on your hips.

The touch is professional—or it's trying to be��but his fingers spread wide, pressing into you through your training gear like he's trying to leave prints. Like he's trying to remind you of that other time those hands have been there.

He stares at where his hands rest for way too long to be just about fixing your stance.

The air gets thick. Sticky.

You can feel every slight adjustment of his fingers, how his palms mold against your hips like they're meant to be there.

When he looks up, it knocks the breath right out of you. His eyes are dark, searching your face for... something. You're both breathing the same air now, and fuck, you remember this kind of proximity. Remember what it leads to.

Then his tongue flicks out, wetting his lip ring, and your brain just—stops. It's absent-minded, probably, but Christ. The metal catches the light, and suddenly you're back in that tent, remembering exactly what that piercing feels like against your—

Focus, bitch.

His hands haven't moved from your hips. Haven't even twitched. Like he's forgotten they're there, or maybe like he can't bring himself to move them.

He's not apologizing for it either, though.

Not that you want him to.

"What about now?" Your voice comes out embarrassingly breathless.

"Yeah," he says, and oh. His voice has gone all rough around the edges. "This is good. Real good."

The way he says it—like he's not just talking about your stance—makes heat pool low in your stomach. You know that tone. You've heard it before, whispered against your skin in the dark.

Professional, you remind yourself. This is supposed to be professional.

(It's really, really not.)

His thumbs start moving against your hips—tiny, barely-there circles that are definitely not about fixing your stance anymore. The touch is light through the fabric, but it might as well be branded into your skin.

Then he clears his throat, the sound sharp and sudden. Just like that, he's stepping back, putting distance between you.

Your skin feels weirdly empty where his hands were.

You watch him slip back into Chief mode. It's fascinating, really, how he does it. Like watching someone put on armor piece by piece. His face goes blank, eyes cooling until they're giving nothing away. Pure business. This is the Jeon that everyone else sees—the Chief of Tactical Assassinations, not the guy who just had his hands on your hips like he owned them.

Training kicks back in.

The tension does not dissipate.

He spars, but this time it's like... Like he's built this invisible wall between being your instructor and being... whatever else he is to you. And he's trying real hard not to cross it.

You match his energy, throwing yourself into it. You're here to be instructed, after all.

Then he pulls this move—his feet moving so fast they blur. You think he's going left, but nope. It's a trap, and you fall for it like an idiot. You stumble, losing your balance, and—

Oh.

Oh.

His arm catches you around the waist, hard and sure.

The contact hits different this time—no pretense of training, just pure instinct.

This isn't your instructor catching a student.

This is just Jeon catching you.

His grip is steel, anchoring you against him. You can feel everything—the hard planes of his chest, the rapid rise and fall of his breathing, the way his bicep flexes against your back. His thigh is pressed against yours, and you try very hard not to think about that.

You can feel his heart hammering where you're pressed together, matching yours beat for frantic beat. His hand spans your waist like he owns it.

You turn your head, just a little, just enough to see— Jesus.

His eyes are dark, wild. Like he's fighting a war with himself and losing badly. Pupils are blown wide, fixed on you.

You've seen that look before, in a tent, in the dark.

When he swallows, you can't help but track the movement. His throat works, pulse visible under the skin.

It's weirdly vulnerable, seeing that flutter of pulse on someone who's usually all hard edges and control.

The silence in the room feels heavy. All you can hear is breathing—yours, his, both of you trying to pretend this is still just training.

His grip on your waist tightens, just a fraction, and your body betrays you. You lean back into him, seeking that solid warmth. Because apparently, your survival instincts have left the chat.

His other hand hovers near your stomach, not quite touching. It's weirdly protective, like he wants to shield you from something.

From what?

From himself, maybe.

The hand trembles slightly. Jeon is trembling.

That hits different, knowing someone so controlled is fighting for composure. It has you almost whining, the distance between his palm and your body.

Focus. Breathe.

But how are you supposed to focus when he's right there?

Because hell, this is Jeon—Chief of Tactical Assassinations, walking danger sign, and somehow the person you want most.

Your eyes drift to his lips because you're a m̶a̶s̶o̶c̶h̶i̶s̶t̶ glutton for punishment. They're right there, and that lip ring is practically taunting you. You remember exactly how that metal feels, how it tastes. Your throat works as you swallow, mouth parting on its own, like your body's sending out an open invitation.

At that, his eyes immediately drop to your lips. Just a flicker, almost nonexistent, but you saw it. The look in his eyes—fuck.

You've seen hungry before, but this?

This is starving.

You tilt your head up, slow, careful, like you're approaching a wild animal. Your heart's trying to break out of your chest, and breathing? That's for people who aren't about to kiss their superior officer.

You lean in, slow. So fucking slow. Like if you move too fast, he'll spook and bolt.

His breath catches. The sound is soft, intimate, does stupid things to your core. You brush your lips against his, just barely, just enough to test, tease.

For a moment, he's completely still. Like he's processing, like he can't believe this is happening.

Then—holy fuckity hell.

He kisses you like he's dying for it, like he's been holding back forever and can't anymore. His lips are insistent, demanding, coaxing yours apart. There's something desperate in the way he angles his head, deepening the kiss, claiming your mouth like he owns it.

Your hands move without permission—one in his hair, one gripping his shoulder. The contrasts under your fingers ground you: soft strands, hard muscle. He tastes like mint and something darker, something that makes you want to crawl inside him and stay there.

It isn't some sweet, gentle thing.

It's a continuation of your sparring match, just with different rules.

He softens for a moment, less demanding, more inviting, and you lean into it, chasing his taste.

Finally, finally, his hovering hand makes contact. It spreads across your stomach, possessive, anchoring you against him like he thinks you might try to escape.

As if you could.

As if you'd want to.

Your fingers find his jaw, smooth skin under your touch.

When he pulls back, it's like it physically pains him. He gasps, the sound cutting through the heavy air. His eyes are wild, unfocused, like he's just come up for air after nearly drowning. There's a storm brewing in those dark depths, and you're caught right in the middle of it.

"I thought that was a spur of the moment kinda thing?"

His voice drops low, and you know exactly what he's talking about. That night in his tent during the camping trip, when things got real heated real quick.

You raise an eyebrow, channeling every ounce of b̶a̶d̶ confident bitch energy you can muster.

"I don't see why it has to be. I find you hot, you find me hot."

"Making assumptions now, are we?"

The playful edge in his voice does things to you. He's toying with you, and the worst part? You're kind of into it.

"Actions speak louder than words, Jeon." You lean into your sass because fuck it, why not? "And considering I had you cumming all over me a couple of days ago, I'd say you don't find me aesthetically unpleasant."

His lip curls into that fucking smirk—you know the one. It's rare and deadly and makes your stomach do this weird flippy thing.

"Oh?"

It's just one syllable, but Jesus Christ. The way he says it—all low and gravelly—makes your lungs seize.

"Going there, huh?" He tilts his head, and you can practically see the cockiness radiating off him. "Then I guess we can say the same about you."

You can't help the scoff that escapes.

It's either laugh or combust, honestly.

"I already said I find you hot. Craving compliments that much?"

"Just wanna hear it again." His smile widens, and fuck, it's not fair how good he looks when he's being an asshole. "Strokes my ego."

You swallow hard, trying to get your shit together. Because this? This is a whole new side of Jeon you're seeing. One minute he's Mr. Ice King, all cold and untouchable, and the next he's... this.

This s̶e̶x̶y̶ infuriating bastard who knows exactly what he's doing to you.

And the worst part? He's really good at it.

(Your underwear situation is becoming a serious problem, but you'll die before admitting that to him.)

"I think you're hot," you whisper, because fuck it—might as well lay all your cards on the table.

"I know."

The sheer audacity—

He says it with this cocky certainty that should be annoying but somehow isn't. Like he's stating that water is wet or the sky is blue.

You press on, because apparently your brain-to-mouth filter decided to take the day off. "So it doesn't have to be a one-time thing."

"Really."

It's not even a question. He's amused, the bastard. His chuckle hits different—low and rich and doing things to your insides that you'd rather not analyze right now.

"Just..." You try for casual, miss by a mile. "Think of it as a way of improving synergy between gang members."

The moment it leaves your mouth, you want to cringe.

Synergy? Really? But you see the way his lips twitch, and yeah, okay, maybe it wasn't your worst line.

"Hmm? I'll make sure to send Moon the briefing for approval."

"Make sure to give me credit then."

"Will do."

"So indulgent," you tease, because apparently you have a death wish.

He raises an eyebrow, and oh. Something shifts in his expression—something dark and promising that makes your stomach flip. He does this thing with his tongue, running it along the inside of his cheek like he's considering all the ways he could r̶u̶i̶n̶ wreck you.

"You know how indulgent I can be, sunshine."

Fuck.

That nickname. The way he says it—soft but loaded with intent.

It's not fair how he can take two simple words and turn them into something that feels like a caress and a threat wrapped in one.

Your heart's going absolutely feral in your chest. You're pretty sure he can feel it, which is just... great. Really great.

You swallow hard, trying to remember how words work.

"Don't you think..." You pause, trying to find the right words without sounding too desperate. "...that as gang members, we need to... release some tension from time to time? For the sake of the gang."

His mouth twitches. You want to punch him.

"For the sake of the gang," he echoes.

"Mhm." You feel a little rush of pride at having his complete attention. It's not easy to get Jeon to focus on anything that isn't mission-related. "And, you know... Fucking just seems like the healthier option."

The silence that follows should be awkward. It should be, but it's not. It's charged.

You wait for him to shut you down, maybe throw some sarcastic comment your way.

Instead, his fingers dig deeper into your skin, and fuck, that shouldn't feel as good as it does.

"Mhm. You're persuasive." His voice drops into this low purr that makes your insides twist. "Are those your seduction skills in show?"

"Maybe." You tilt your head, feeling bold. "Is it working?"

"I don't know..." There's something dark and promising in his eyes. "Considering I have you all over me right now, who's seducing who?"

Your eyes drop for just a second because—oh. That's... definitely something pressing against your thigh. Something very familiar from that night in the tent.

"I guess it depends on whether you want to include your boner in that analysis," you say, meeting his gaze.

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and against your palm.

"Fair. But only if we include those 'fuck me' eyes you're giving me."

The crude language coming from him is... something else. Instead of making you blush and back down, it makes you want to push harder.

"What can I say, Jeon? Lust is a human emotion."

"It is." His tongue swipes over his lip ring, and Christ. "And you have a lot of it."

"Funny you say that when you're also looking at me like you're undressing me with your eyes."

"I never said I didn't."

The way he says it, all casual with that hint of a smirk—it's doing things to you. Things you probably shouldn't be feeling in the training room, but here you are anyway.

Professional training session your ass.

Your hand moves before your brain can catch up, fingers skimming over his chest. You look up through your lashes, meeting his gaze.

"Good then. I guess it's settled."

"What is?"

"You. Me. Fucking."

Real smooth. Way to be subtle about it.

"And how do you wanna go about it, exactly?"

The way he says it—like he's trying not to laugh—makes your face heat up.

You pause. Wait. Shit.

You hadn't actually thought this far ahead. The logistics of it seemed... well, obvious until now. People just fuck, right? That's how it works? But now that he's asking, you're drawing a complete blank.

"How... What?"

Real articulate. Nailed it. You're doing amazing sweetie.

He actually laughs at that, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into yours because you're still pressed together like some kind of human sandwich.

Then he's moving, helping you get your feet back under you so you're face-to-face.

His hands stay on you though, like he can't quite bring himself to let go.

"I mean, I'm game for it being a way to blow off steam." His thumb starts that little circle thing on your hip again, and fuck, that's distracting. "And as you said, we're not breaking any rules if there's no strings attached..."

You blink. Slowly. Because is this actually happening? Is Jeon—Mr. Ice King himself—actually considering your half-baked proposition?

"However, we should probably set some ground rules. Any limitations? Is there anything off the table?"

"Well, we can see when... time comes."

"And when do times come, sunshine?"

That fucking nickname again. The playful edge in his voice isn't helping your brain function any better.

"We can just tell each other, no?" You say it without thinking, which seems to be your brand today.

"What, do you really want to say you want to fuck in front of everyone—"

"God, Jeon, no—" You cut him off because Jesus Christ. The thought alone makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. "But we can say something like... we need to ease off some tension."

"So 'ease off some tension'? Is that our code?"

Amusement twinkles in his eyes, and you kind of want to punch him.

Maybe.

Not really.

"Yeah. Yes." Eloquent.

"Okay then."

"Okay."

And just like that, you've somehow negotiated the most professional friends-with-benefits arrangement in the history of gang life. With your Chief. In the training room.

What could possibly go wrong?

"What about halting?" His eyes lock with yours. "Need a safe word?"

You glance around the training room, brain scrambling for ideas. Your gaze drops to your hands, still fisted in his tank top. Oh.

"Black tape," you say. It feels right, given the context. Then, because your mouth apparently has a mind of its own: "And maybe... white tape? Like, for when things are good to go?"

The corner of his mouth twitches. "Black tape stops everything, white tape means keep going?"

"Yeah." You nod, feeling weirdly professional about this whole thing. Like you're negotiating a business deal instead of arranging hook-ups with your Chief. "Black for stop, white for go."

"Alright." His voice drops lower, settling somewhere in your chest. "Once either of us says 'black tape', everything stops. Immediately."

"Okay."

"Okay."

The word's barely settled in the air between you when something possesses you to just—

"I wanna ease off some tension."

Real smooth. Way to be patient, dumbass. (Have you seen him though? Like...)

But the way Jeon's eyes darken? Maybe being smooth is overrated.

His eyes snap to yours—look pure animal—irises swallowed whole.

Jeon's fingers stop their little dance on your hip, like he's taking a moment to process what you just said.

Everything goes quiet, the kind of quiet that makes you hyper-aware of every little sound—birds chirping outside, people talking somewhere down the hall, completely clueless about what's happening in here.

"Yeah?"

It comes out as this low rumble that you can practically feel in your bones.

Then he's moving closer, crowding into your space until there's barely room to breathe.

Not that you're doing much breathing anyway, because the way he's looking at you right has knocked the air out of your lungs long ago.

You manage a nod because words? What are words? Your brain's pretty much short-circuited at this point.

His smirk turns wicked—the kind that promises trouble—and then his fingers are sliding under your clothes, and oh.

Oh, okay.

You can feel him pressed against your inner thigh, hot and hard and very, very interested in where this is going. He notices you notice, (of course he does) and he sways his hips slightly like he's testing the waters.

A sound escapes you—something between a whimper and a gasp—as you arch back, exposing your throat. Like your body's offering itself up to him before your brain can catch up.

(And what the fuck are you, a cat in heat?)

You're both still technically fully clothed in a training room where anyone could walk in, but honestly, it feels more obscene than being naked.

Maybe it's the forbidden aspect, or maybe it's just him, but it's like everything is on fire.

(Somewhere in the back of your mind, a little voice is reminding you that this is probably not what RM had in mind when he approved combat training. You tell that voice to shut the fuck up.)

He doesn't just dive in—no, because Jeon's the type to take his sweet fucking time. His mouth traces your jaw with these slow, deliberate kisses that make you want to tug at his hair. Each one edges closer to your neck, and hell, the anticipation is killing you.

When his teeth find that spot where your neck meets your shoulder, you nearly lose it. He bites down—not hard enough to mark, but the sensation shoots straight through you, and this embarrassing sound escapes your throat before you can stop it.

"No... marks," you manage to get out, even though your brain's pretty much offline at this point.

He laughs against your skin, and the vibration does things to you. You can feel his smile—that smug, knowing one that makes you want to strangle him with his own hair or something.

"Okay."

You both know why there can't be marks—can't have evidence of whatever this is showing up in training tomorrow.

His breath fans hot over the spot he just bit, and you're pretty sure you're going to die if he doesn't do something soon.

Then his hands start moving, and okay, maybe dying wouldn't be so bad. He maps your body like he's trying to memorize every curve, every dip. His thumbs sweep over your clothes, and even through the fabric, his touch burns.

When he gets to your ass though? Different story.

He grabs two handfuls like he's been waiting to do this all day, and the sound that comes out of your mouth is straight-up pornographic. You should probably be embarrassed, but you're way past caring at this point.

He squeezes like ike he's finally getting his hands on something he's been thinking about for way too long.

"God..." He says—voice wrecked, all rough and deep. "You've got one hell of an ass."

You laugh against his mouth.

"All this training must show results."

"Fuck if it shows."

That compliment—delivered in his sex-roughened voice—does weird things to your stomach. You press back into his hands because you're only human, and the way he responds tells you all you need to know—fingers dig in harder, and yeah, okay, this is definitely happening.

You claw at him in retaliation like some kind of feral animal, nails dragging down his back through his tank.

You can't think straight—can't think at all, really.

Your brain's on fire, fuzzy with want. If this is what losing your mind feels like, you're kind of okay with it. Actually, more than okay. You're drowning in him, in the heat of his hands, in the way he's marking you up without leaving marks, and—

Clink.

The sound of the door handle cuts through your lust-haze like a bucket of ice water. Pure instinct takes over, and you shove Jeon away from you with enough force to send him sprawling onto the training room floor. The sound of his body hitting concrete is probably the least sexy thing you've ever heard.

When you look at him, his eyes are wide with shock that quickly turns into this mix of annoyance and—wait, is he amused? There's this little twitch at the corner of his mouth that says he kind of wants to laugh, even though you just threw him on his ass. But there's also a storm brewing in his eyes because Jeon? He doesn't do pretend losses.

Especially not to you, in what's supposed to be a basic training session.

Then Takama walks in, all decked out in Kkangpae black, and raises an eyebrow at the scene in front of him.

You must look like a mess—hair probably everywhere, breathing like you just ran a marathon, standing over Jeon who's sprawled on the floor.

"Thought you two would be done by now," he says, confusion lacing his tone.

"Training got a bit... intense," you manage to say, trying to sound casual while your heart's still doing its best to break your ribs.

Your voice, however, comes out steadier than you expected, considering you were about two seconds away from letting Jeon rail you against the training room wall.

The irony of using "intense" to describe what was definitely not training isn't lost on you. But hey, at least you're not lying.

Technically.

Takama lets out this low chuckle, and you can feel his eyes darting between you and Jeon, who's still sprawled on the training room floor like some Renaissance painting gone wrong.

"Gotta say, I'm surprised to see Jeon flat on his back. Never thought I'd see the day."

There's this note of respect in his voice. Because yeah, you just put the Chief of Tactical Assassinations on his ass. Even if it was totally not what it looked like.

Jeon's still looking at you as he gets up, fluidly and graceful despite having just been thrown to the ground.

He brushes off his clothes, but his eyes?

They haven't left yours for a second.

It's like he's trying to tell you something without words, and you're getting the message loud and clear.

"She's a quick learner."

You both know exactly what kind of "learning" he's talking about, and it has nothing to do with combat training.

Takama, bless his oblivious soul, just strolls to the center of the mats like he's not walking into the world's most sexually charged training session.

The sound of him cracking his knuckles cuts through the air then.

"So, ready for another round?"

He has no idea about the conversation happening without words. No clue about the way Jeon's still looking at you like he's thinking about all the different ways he could pin you down—and none of them involve training.

"Always," Jeon says.

His voice is pure sin, wrapped up in that one word like a promise. Like a threat. Like everything you want but shouldn't.

"Bring it on," you manage to say, and you're pretty proud that your voice comes out steady.

Because this? This is definitely not just about training anymore.

Not even close.

You drag yourself into the cafeteria with Yunjin, who's been talking your ear off since you left training. She's going on about something—probably important, if you'd actually been listening—but your brain's too busy playing "Where's Waldo" with the dinner crowd.

Not that you're looking for anyone s̶p̶e̶c̶i̶f̶i̶c̶ important.

(That's a lie. You totally are.)

Your eyes keep scanning the room like some kind of desperate radar system, and you want to smack yourself.

Since when did you turn into one of those people who can't walk into a room without checking if he's there?

Jeon's not the center of the universe.

He's not even the center of this cafeteria.

But try telling that to your traitor eyes that won't stop searching.

You follow Yunjin to the buffet line, nodding along to her chatter about work stuff and gang politics. The food looks good tonight—all steam and color and promise of actual flavor. You're reaching for the rice when—

Oh.

There he is.

Jeon's standing a few people ahead, his back to you like he doesn't even know you exist. Which is bullshit, by the way. You know he knows you're here. But he's pulling this whole 'I'm too cool to acknowledge your existence' act, and honestly? It's working for him.

You can't help staring at his plate because of course it looks like that. All protein and greens, like a sad jail meal. No carbs in sight because god forbid the Chief of Tactical Assassinations eat a fucking potato. It's like looking at a fitness influencer's meal prep, except this one could probably kill you with his chopsticks.

He drives you insane. How does he do this? How does he go from being that smug bastard in the training room—all heated looks and smart mouth—to... this? This walking ice sculpture who portions his vegetables like they might try to escape?

You're still watching him stack his protein like he's playing food Tetris when Yunjin's elbow catches your ribs.

"Hey, you okay? You've been zoning out a lot today."

Great. Now you're so obvious even Yunjin's noticed.

But how are you supposed to explain that you can't stop staring at the way Jeon handles his chopsticks because it reminds you of how those same hands felt on your—

Nope. Not going there. Not in the cafeteria, not while you're holding rice tongs, and definitely not with Yunjin right there giving you that knowing look.

You flash Yunjin what you hope is a convincing smile. "Just tired. Been a long day of pretending I actually know what I'm doing."

You both grab your plates and—okay, maybe you glance in Jeon's direction one more time. Just a quick look. For science.

The way his jaw moves when he chews shouldn't be this interesting, but here you are anyway, feeling heat pool in your stomach because apparently now everything that he does is just hot.

Get it together.

You scan the cafeteria for a free spot and spot Kazuha sitting alone. She's got this serene energy about her that makes you feel instantly calmer. It's kind of ridiculous how put-together she always looks, even after a full day of work.

"Hey, Zuzu!" Yunjin chirps, already bouncing over. "Got room for two more?"

Kazuha looks up from her food, and her smile is soft, genuine. Like she's actually happy to see you both.

"Of course. How was training?"

You plop down next to her, already digging into your food because you're starving. "Bold of you to assume I survived. Pretty sure my muscles are plotting revenge."

"That bad?" Kazuha asks, and you can hear the amusement in her voice.

"Let's just say I'm considering a career change. Maybe I'll become a nun."

Yunjin snorts into her rice. "You? A nun?"

"Hey, I could be holy!" You protest, but you're grinning. "I mean, how hard can it be?"

"About as hard as that time Eunchae tried to seduce that businessman and ended up talking about his cats for two hours," Kazuha reminds you, dry as desert.

"Okay, but in her defense, his cats are adorable—"

"And second of all," Yunjin cuts in, "she got the intel anyway because he thought she was 'refreshingly genuine' or whatever."

Kazuha shakes her head, but she's smiling. "Only she could fail upwards so spectacularly."

The conversation flows easy after that, just three girls sharing dinner and stories from their day. It's almost normal, if you ignore the fact that you're all trained in professional seduction and manipulation.

"Zuzu, you seen the new race bikes downtown?" Yunjin's practically bouncing in her seat. "They've got some wild colors this year. Bright as the neon signs lining the alleys."

"They're really something," you add, grateful for the distraction from your Jeon-related thoughts. "Makes you wanna take one for a spin, just you and the empty streets at midnight."

Kazuha's smiling that soft smile of hers, the one that makes her look like she knows all your secrets. "I saw them. Wish we could know the stories behind them."

"Speaking of stories," Yunjin says, and there's this gleam in her eye that makes you nervous. "Kazuha, aren't you usually having dinner with Saku and Eunchae around now?"

It's an innocent question. Totally innocent. Except nothing's ever really innocent in this place, is it?

Kazuha lets out this little laugh that somehow sounds like wind chimes.

"They're training. Apparently, the training room was..." She pauses, and you swear your heart stops. "...in heavy use earlier."

You start coughing like an idiot because of course you do. Real smooth. Your neck feels hot, and you just know you're turning red because your body is a fucking traitor.

Because yeah, the training room was definitely in use earlier. By you and Jeon. Doing... training things. Totally professional training things that absolutely didn't involve his hands all over you or his mouth on your—

"Oh, is that so?" You try for casual, miss by about a mile. "Training room's been busy lately. Gotta stay sharp and all that."

Yunjin's looking at you like she can see right through your bullshit. Her eyebrow does this little thing—this 'I know what you did' arch that makes you want to crawl under the table. The way she's staring at you, it's like she's reading a book where every page is stamped with "I ALMOST FUCKED JEON IN THE TRAINING ROOM."

Kazuha, bless her soul, just nods serenely. The conversation moves on, but Yunjin's still giving you these looks. You can practically hear her thoughts: 'We're so talking about this later'.

You end up having this whole silent conversation with Yunjin through eyebrows and meaningful glances. She takes a sip of her drink, ice cubes clinking against glass like they're laughing at you, and the little smirk on her face says everything.

Busted.

(You're really going to need to work on your poker face if you're going to keep this thing with Jeon going. Or maybe invest in a paper bag to hide your face. That could work too.)

You're in the middle of telling Yunjin about this absolutely ridiculous mission report you have to finish when—

CRASH.

"You bastard, you think you can talk to me like that?!"

The whole cafeteria goes quiet. Like, pin-drop quiet.

You whip around to see Dongho—V's right-hand man and certified hothead—with his fists bunched in Woojin's shirt. They're both red-faced and looking murderous.

Great. Just what you needed with your dinner: a testosterone-fueled throwdown.

"What the fuck," Yunjin whispers, already tensing up. Kazuha's gone still beside you, like a deer sensing danger.

The thing about fights in Kkangpae? They're never just fights. There's always some deeper shit going on, especially when it's between different divisions.

And this?

This is V's second versus some guy from tactical assassinations. The rivalry between those divisions runs deeper than the Han River.

Speaking of V—you spot him across the room, looking way too entertained for someone whose deputy is about to start a brawl. He's got that look on his face, the one that makes your skin crawl. Like he's watching his favorite show.

"Now, now, let's not get too rowdy, gentlemen!" V calls out, voice dripping with absolutely false concern. When that doesn't work, he cups his hands around his mouth: "Simmer down, boys!"

But they're not listening. Of course they're not, they're men.

You watch as Woojin throws a wild punch that Dongho barely dodges. People are scrambling now—some to get away, others to jump in. It's chaos.

Then Takama's there, all six feet of concentrated 'don't fuck with me' energy. He plants himself between them like a human wall.

"Enough! Stand down, both of you!"

The command in his voice could probably stop traffic.

But Dongho—because he's either brave or stupid or both—just sneers.

"You're the same rank as me. Don't you ever try to pull authority on me."

Oh shit.

You feel the tension in the room spike. This isn't just about whatever started the fight anymore. This is about division politics, about the endless pissing contest between V and Jeon's teams.

And their seconds are about to throw down right here in the cafeteria.

You hear V's dramatic sigh that would put soap opera actors to shame.

"Why must things always descend into violence?" he asks JM, who just shakes his head like he's seen this show a hundred times before.

You watch as V's face changes. It's subtle, but terrifying—like watching a cute puppy turn into a wolf. His playful smile twists into something darker, and then there's suddenly a knife in his hand.

(You're not even sure where it came from; he just does that sometimes, produces weapons like a deadly magician.)

"I tried asking nicely," he says to JM, casual as if he's discussing the weather.

Then—oooookay.

The knife flies through the air, spinning so fast it's just a silver blur. It hits the wall with this loud THUNK that makes everyone jump, landing exactly between Dongho and Woojin's faces. Like, exactly.

You know V well enough to know that wasn't luck—if he'd wanted to hit them, they'd be picking pieces of their noses off the floor right now.

The whole cafeteria goes dead silent. Every head turns to V, who's sitting there looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

But his eyes? They're gleaming with something that makes your stomach turn.

"There, that got your attention." His voice is soft, almost sweet. Then, louder: "Now sit down and play nice, children."

Dongho and Woojin break apart like they've been electrocuted. You watch Takama and Dongho share one last murder-glare before going their separate ways.

"Holy shit," Yunjin breathes next to you, eyes wide as saucers. She lets out this low whistle that perfectly sums up what everyone's thinking. "Only V could pull that off so effortlessly."

She leans in closer, practically vibrating with excitement.

"That was kind of hot, don't you think?"

You turn to her, eyebrows shooting up. "Didn't know you had a thing for psychopaths with good aim," you tease.

Yunjin's cheeks go pink, and she does that thing where she tucks her hair behind her ear when she's flustered. It's kind of adorable.

"What? Confidence is sexy," she defends, sneaking another look at V. "And you have to admit, that was pretty impressive."

You follow her gaze across the room. V's already moved on, chatting with JM like he didn't just turn a cafeteria brawl into an impromptu knife-throwing demonstration.

But that's V for you—deadly and dramatic in equal measure.

Yunjin's practically glowing as V catches her eye and winks. The smile she gives him is shy, which is funny coming from someone who literally seduces people for a living. But that's just Yunjin—confident as hell on missions but turns into a blushing mess when she actually likes someone.

Speaking of liking someone...

You notice JM's acting weird. He's sitting next to V, pretending to be super interested in his food, but his chopsticks are gripping that poor piece of kimchi like it personally offended him; movements sharp and jerky—very un-JM-like.

He keeps doing this thing where he looks up at V and Yunjin, then quickly back down at his food like he's playing the world's most obvious game of 'I'm not looking, you're looking.' The tension in his shoulders is giving him away though. JM's usually all soft sweaters and gentle vibes, but right now? He looks like someone replaced his bones with steel rods.

After what feels like an eternity of aggressive chopstick action, JM turns to V and says something too quiet for you to hear. His tone's forcefully light—the kind of casual that takes effort. V glances at him with that signature smirk of his, says something back, and suddenly JM's whole face changes. His eyes get all crinkly at the corners, like he's trying not to smile.

Then JM leans in closer (way closer than necessary, if you're being honest), and whatever he whispers makes V laugh. Not his usual theatrical laugh either—this one's soft, private. V nudges JM's shoulder, and just like that, the tension bleeds out of the moment.

You can't help but watch them, pondering. Maybe V's little knife-throwing show bothered JM more than he's letting on. Or maybe...

Oh.

Well, that's interesting.

JM catches you staring and gives you this little smile that definitely means 'nothing to see here, move along.'

You return it because what else can you do? Start announcing your theories about whatever's going on between him and V in the middle of the cafeteria?

The conversation around you picks back up, and you let yourself get pulled into Yunjin's excited whispers about V's 'totally unnecessary but kind of hot' intervention. But part of your brain is still turning over what you just saw.

Because either you're reading way too much into this, or there's something brewing on JM's behalf that makes the gang's 'no relationships' rule look more like a suggestion than a law.

You file that little observation away for later. Right now, you've got food to eat and a best friend to tease about her obvious crush on the gang's resident knife-throwing psychopath.

goal: 425 notes.

next | index

🔪 taglist 🔪

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @redcherrykook @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @rpwprpwprpwprw @jimineepaboya @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex @vialattea00 @yanjeons @minniejim @curse-of-art @cristy-101 @mellyyyyyyx @mimi1097

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[keykoso]

Formula 1 drivers as High School students

To spark some creativity and to practice drawing faces I challenged myself to draw all the current and some retired F1 drivers as if they where high school teachers or students for my F1 spiderman AU. So let's start from the begging.

The Seniors

Max Verstappen: A little bit of information on Max. He sits outside the music classroom because the piano music calms him down but he always leaves before Charles exists the room because doesn’t want to admit that he enjoys it. Max has big anger issues and a talent for boxing. Because Daniel, as the PE teacher, noticed that Max was potential he gave Horners number. Daniel was Horner’s pupil back in the days but they had a falling out. However Daniel knows that only Horner can shape up Max to his full potential. In this AU Horner has a boxing school.

Charles Leclerc: Charles has the best face card in school but his fashion sense is his downfall. Also Charles was bleached tips (00s vibes). Also also Charles is convinced that Artur started that rumor but Arthur pleads innocent. Lando is having the best time in the world because of that.

Lance Stroll: Lance is like the super rich but Esteban sees the real him, this introverted kid that just wants peace and quiet. Lance adores Estebans non stop talking that is way they are always sitting together at school assembly and at lunch. Basically, Lance let's Estaben do the talking.

Estaben Ocon: Esteban is the go to guy at school if you need any help especially if you can’t reach something.

The Juniors

Oscar Piastri: Oscar is the Spiderman of my f1 spiderman au. He has the personality of Andrew Garfield Spiderman. Smart smart kid. Lando is always copying homework from him. Hamiltons favorite student. Lewis looks out for Oscar because he sees that the kid has brains but for some reason the brightest pupil is always sleeping in his English class. Oscar noticed that Alonso is interested in him, but his spidey sence is saying that something is up whit him. So as the story progresses Oscar is keeping a distance from his science teacher. However, Lando works for Alonsos lab so that makes it complicated because Oscar wants to protect his best friend

Lando Norris: Lando has this Harry Osborn portrayed by James Franco vibes. HE IS NOT THE GREEN GOBLIN in my au. I'm sorry but I will not hurt my precious baby. The class clown who's always dragging Oscar along with his pranks and antics.

Yuki Tsunoda: The short kid with anger issues. Car guy, always talking about them and dreams about owning a Nissan Skyline car. Has a mood board for his dream cars. If you missed a school fight he's the guy whit the tea.

Logan Sargeant: The exhange student. Keeps it to himself. Only here for one year. Oscar befriended him at science class.

The Sophomores

Liam Lawson: The Lightning McQueen kid, he's the type for guy that would do anyting to be popular and play the guitar to the girls on there first date. Barbie movie reference. An if anything happens to him, Liam runs to the teacher to complain about it. If any of the school teachers see him coming they start running away.

Franco Colopinto: The girls guy, absolute romantic, can get away with anything because he knows how to smooth talk his way out of trouble. However, for some he disappeared for a period of time. Nobody knows here he went. But when he got back Franco acted as if nothing had happened.

Jack Doohan: Because Jack wants to be tiktok famous he shaved his head in the school bathroom while Liam filmed it. It did go viral and he got called to the principals office. Also Jack is like the biggest sunshine and I alot of girls adore him but he's clueless why that is, so he usually never notices the attention he gets.

The Freshmans

Kimi Antonelli and Ollie Bearman they met in preschool. Oli was dressed as a bear for halloween and because he was already the tallest kid in class Kimi really thought that Oli was a bear. Of course the teacher had to explain to Kimi that that’s just a costume. Since then they’ve become friends. Oli always laughs at that moment and Kimi as a shut up gift have Oli a teddy bear that he keeps in his locker. Also Lando believes that Oli and Kimi will become the next pranksters after he and Oscar graduates. That’s why George is absolutely terrified and tries to befriend the younger freshman so that we could discipline from the start. However, the fact that Kimi for some reason has a get out of jail card from Toto him and Oli absolutely abuse this power. Lando noticed that and is super jealous because he’s always sitting in detention.

Gabriel Bortoleto: Gabriel and Oli got drunk together and forgot that they have an exam at Alonso’s science class. Fernando understood that the boys were shit faced but he pretended not to notice Oli sitting in class with sunglasses and drinking energy drinks while Gabriel was as pale as a paper sheet.

Isack Hadjar: because he was this foreign accent he got confused with Logan and was placed in the junior class. Nobody even questioned his existence but Yuki noticed that Isack is absolutely lost at the curriculum. Isack explained that he’s not the exchange student and after lunch break he was back with the freshman. That’s the story how Isack befriended Yuki.

NEXT PART - THE TEACHERS

[at4-raxia]

Mark Grayson x Ladybug!reader part3

(If you haven't read them yet I suggest you go check part 1 and part 2 to understand part 3 better)

Before you read: protective Mark, him and the reader are whipped for each other (more like obsessed to some degree), they are also really dumb, the variants want that cookie, suggestive, smut, dubious consent, dry humping, the reader is not okay, kidnapping, threatening, angst (because why not?), and lastly but not least, violence and blood. By the way, this is my first time writing smut so I really hope it came out okay at least, if not, I'm really sorry.

Synopsis: Running, escaping, evading. You do that better than anyone else. It's also the only thing you can do right now when distorted versions of Mark are trying to catch you with the goal to have you for themselves after their version of you bit the dust under different circumstances. While on the battlefield you don't only fight broken men, but yourself as you resist from crumbling under the weight of their words and acts.

("If I were that girl I would dump that guy on the spot" William scoffs while sitting on the counter.

"Did you hear what he just said to her? Like, I could not take that level of disrespect, no matter the guy" he adds before slurping his chocolate milkshake. It's late, the sun is setting and the warm orange hues make the bakery the perfect setting for a date.

Or an evening with your friends.

You're working overtime since your co-worker is sick, but you don't mind, especially when it's not rushing hour and your friends are here.

"The guy is not even that hot." Is your only remark as you rest your weight on the counter, your hand on your face being your only support as you look across the room towards the couple.

Mark—the most subtle out of the three of you—almost snaps his head around to look at the them, now suddenly interested in the conversation.

Because of this, the man notices you and whispers in the woman's ear, now both of them are laughing and you feel the embarrassment creep up.

"Great job Mark, now they think we're weirdos"

"I didn't mean to! I mean—you were also looking! And I was curious."

"Yeah, but turning your head around like an owl was not the way dude" says William, who's now savouring the chocolate cake, with chocolate cream, covered in chocolate and with chocolate sprinkles.

"But back to the topic, he is not bad looking [name], it's just his personality that's garbage"

"well he is not really my type" you answer, not really focused on Will as you clean around a bit.

"Oh, oh! Then what is your type then? What about french men?" There's a teasing tone, and a brow wiggle you don't see.

"I wouldn't know honestly." The response comes out of your mouth like water out of a pitcher, you weren't thinking about the consequences of your slip up when you said the words.

Well, at least until you turned around and saw both of your friends slightly shocked.

"What?" Your brows are furrowed, your confusion is evident.

"You were in the city of love and you didn't, I don't know, date anyone? Fuck anybody? Like girl, why did you even go to Paris at this point". You don't mean to blush, there's nothing to be embarrassed about when you have had your reasons to not make any kind of romantic experience, unlike the men in front of you.

It's meant to be a joke, but you can't help but feel a little ashamed.

"I was busy!" Is the only thing that you can come up with as you raise your voice slightly. Will just laughs as if this was the funniest thing in the world, news flash it's really not.

Especially when Mark is present and is staring at you with an expression you can't decipher.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with being a virgin".

This time Mark is the one that speaks, he is not really looking at you but William can see his half lidded eyes, his downturned eyebrows. At that he can't help but laugh even harder for your dismay. (Of course he is the one who says this, of course there's nothing wrong if you are a virgin. It's not like he deeply cares about whether or not you have had any kind of experience with other men, but the possibility of being your first makes him giddy.)

"Mark is right, the concept of virginity is misogynist anyway". With William's wheezes and Mark's unfocused gaze the conversation comes to an end.

You don't even want to know what that couple is even thinking of the three of you after this)

-

Your arms are tired, your body is aching. For the last few hours you have been straining yourself to try and keep up with this version of Mark, who's not exactly holding back.

"Babe really, I can't believe that you're better than half the guys I've faced. But you don't really need to do all this you know." He is floating in the air with a smirk forever plastered on his face, there are some cuts here and there and some of your blood along with his drips on the ground as he stands with his arms crossed.

"Have I told you already how hot you are in this costume? In my world you wanted to be a superhero too, a shame you didn't have these powers". You have swung him around all day with your yo-yo and you have conjured too many lucky charms to count as you've tried to lose him while on the run, but nothing, this cat and mouse game seemed neverending.

"I'm not your girlfriend or the version of me you know about, so don't call me babe", your voice is firm as you speak, it's tired too but you can't just give up now.

"Of course you're not her, she's dead. You're the upgrade."

You're horrified by the statement that's said so lightly, did this man even love your alternative version in his world?

"What—"

"Hey, hey. Before you say it, of course I loved her, that's why I love you." The words are like some sort of tautology, a statement that's always true no matter what. He says everything with so much confidence because he truly believes in his words.

"Because at the end of the day, no matter what universe, it's still you". He is quick as he reaches out to grab you, you manage to evade him but only by an inch as his hand grazes your skin.

As you conjure your lucky charm a weird device falls on your hands, but when you look at Mark you don't get how this could work against him.

It's not like he is giving you the time to think either.

"In every universe you're the kind hearted girl that sticks with a guy like me", he doesn't stop and you need to jump as he launches himself towards you. This time you're late and before your yo-yo can wrap itself around the last lamppost standing, he grabs your leg and slams you on the ground with enough force to leave you breathless.

"You're [name], you're the girl who loves to bake, the girl who is too nice for her own good". You don't have time to get up as he is immediately on top of you, you try to crawl away from him but it's useless as he just grabs your leg and pulls you back in his possessive embrace.

"The girl that in each universe falls in love with me, there's no exception out there, we're meant to be", the words are whispered in your ear and you suppress a shiver. Your hips are flush against his and you can't even move without bringing yourself closer to him, his eyes are clouded with anticipation and no more self restraints as one hand bruises your hips and the other rests besides your nearly concussed head.

He moves, slowly, tentatively, because he wants to savour this, to unravel you with care after not having you for so long. And you whimper as a jolt of pleasure hits your body, because what could you do if not that?

And he keeps doing this, content for now to just roll his hips against yours.

Your costume is barely any protection as you can feel every inch of him rub against you.

Your ponytails are undone and your hair is let loose creating a halo around you, you don't feel like an angel as you wrap your arms around his back, one of your hands clawing on the material of his suit.

The squelch of the two fibers against each other fills the empty street along with your suppressed moans and his audible ragged groans.

Late at night, in the dark of your room, in the privacy of your walls, you had imagined how Mark would sound, how he would feel as he makes his way inside you.

And this was wrong, tantalising, but wrong.

But you can't do anything about it, or maybe you don't want to do anything about it as your legs lock around his narrow waist almost on autopilot.

You feel dizzy, your cheeks warm and rosy as the hand that was gripping your hip moves to knead your butt. The thread that's keeping you together almost snaps as he keeps his rocking steady, with your little sounds, whimpers, moans and shudders as his only fuel.

He audibly swallows at your blissed out face and then he kisses you. It's messy, it's rough, it's all teeth and tongue, it's him sucking the air out of you like he'd die if he doesn't and it's you—inexperienced—trying to follow his lead. But it's loving, it's passionate, it's everything you had desired from Mark, your Mark.

Like in the romantic novels that you used to read (and that Mark bullied you for), the kiss leaves a string of saliva to connect your mouths.

"I'm so lucky that I got to you first" his breath hitches as he tries to remove your suit, not really knowing where to start since you would need to detransform to actually remove it

"Losers, all of them, fucking hate those assholes, especially your version of myself. All whiny and pathetic, a coward through and through". His inebriated gaze travels your whole body until it reaches your flushed face.

"But he's not here, the coward didn't even check on you personally". There's no one in this little evacuated area, not a civilian, not Eve, not Mark. You're just for his consumption now as he momentarily spits vitriol against your Mark, your dear Mark that is fighting tooth and nail right now.

You hadn't even texted him to reassure him you were okay.

Guilt seeps in as a few tears run down your face and your lip trembles, you don't let a sob run out of you but the face of the man in front of you changes.

(It was late, Mark's parents were already sound asleep but the both of you were still wide awake on the couch. Two blankets were wrapped around you as you're curled against your personal heater.

The movie you had chosen was tragic, not in the "oh no, doomed lovers!" sense, but more in the "I'm gonna make you cry every liquid inside of your body" type of movie.

There was only so much suffering your hormonal fifteen year old self could handle and eventually the dam broke.

.

.

.

"hey, are you crying?"

"Of course I'm crying, didn't you see how that little kid died? And his little friend was there, oh god" you sob as the snot fills your nostrils.

"It's just a movie...it's not even inspired by a real life event, don't cry.." he had never cried easily, probably something viltrumite.

You sniff, more like snort at his attempt to comfort you.

Before you can use your sleeve to wipe your tears, he is using his hands to remove them for you.

"I don't like seeing you cry, even if it's for a stupid movie", he almost cringes at how cliché he sounds. It's not like he can help it anyway when this is the truth, he just hates seeing you cry.

Thinking that maybe this was enough for one night, you rest your head on his chest and mutter something almost inaudible.

"Your movies are stupid".)

"Hey, don't cry, I'm here" it's awkward, it's guilty. His reaction is confused as he doesn't know what ignited your sadness.

Your arms are still wrapped around him as he kisses the tears of sorrow away, in a way that's too sweet for a merciless mass murderer.

The longer you cry, the longer you feel yourself coming back from that haze, because the guilt overpowers your desire, and suddenly you realise that you're still holding tightly your lucky charm.

And you see them, you see the possibilities.

You remember his weakness, the weakness all viltrumites had due to their constitution.

So you press the button on the little device and a sound comes out of it. Sharp, lethal, quick.

The man gasps and the sound he makes is terrifying. Blood oozes out of his nose and ears, it ends on your face and you don't care as you press the device against his ear.

He is trying to move, to choke you, to push your arm away, but he's too weak and with a deranged look that screams vengeance, he passes out on top of you.

Your head falls on the ground since the adrenaline is running out, you rest there with his body on top of you just like lovers would after a night well spent.

The sob that you were holding back before is finally free. You are relieved as you slowly use your last remaining forces to push him away from you, then with shaking legs you search for your yo-yo before making your way to your apartment.

You need to tell others you're okay, you need to tell Mark, you need to help others.

As soon as you enter inside your home through the window you collapse on the ground, your costume vanishes in a puff of pink and sparkles as Tikki gasps and flies towards you.

"[name]!" She's tired too, you've used your miraculous far more than usual. You didn't have a time limit like teenagers, but overusing it is still tiring both on the user and the kwami.

"I'm fine, I'm fine", you reassure her and yourself, "I just need to rest for a few seconds" you breathe through your mouth as your sweaty and hot body is pleased by the coldness of the floor.

"You should eat" you breathe out, "I need you to be in your best shape, or else we're not making it out alive". Tikki frowns at your answer, but gets to work as she thinks about how much time you have left before the man with the mohawk comes back for you.

Feeling a little bit better, a little less dead, you also get to work and you reach for your phone.

You answer various texts even if they're bit online right now: Mark's, Eve's, William's. Even Debbie has tried to reach out to you as you look at the notifications on the phone.

Your parents have tried to call you.

Your face becomes as white as a sheet as you suddenly remember about your parents. You almost feel like puking at the possibility of them being hurt, or even worse, dead. Before you can tell Tikki to transform, you receive a call that makes your fear disappear for a second:

Mom is calling

You have never answered a phone call so fast.

"Mom! Mom.. oh my god" you choke out as tears of relief run down your face. "Are you okay? Where are you?" There's breathing at the other end of the line, your mother doesn't answer as you plead for everything to be alright.

"Mom? Mom, are you okay? Please, tell me something", your fear comes back tenfold, since once again you don't hear either of your parents' voices. Instead you're met with muffled sounds, distorted, but not too far away from the person that is holding the phone. There's rustling, a muffled cry and then finally a chuckle.

It's dark, twisted, but it's Mark's.

"[nameee]", the variant drags your name out of his tongue, almost tasting it, as if he hasn't said in a long time. "Where are you, [name]? You weren't home when I checked. But I got a little surprise for you, you can call it a little gift", he laughs as he moves the phone closer towards your parents. They are gagged, tied up on a chair and a bit roughed up, not too much, but enough to make them alert about his every move.

And they are afraid, so afraid. Because this psycho version of Invincible wants you, their little girl, and you can feel them trembling throughout the call as the both of them choke on the gag.

"See? They are fine, just peachy. But they would be even better if you just told me where you are", there's a hint of frustration in his voice, because why were you not at home waiting for him when he had arrived at your house? He had found your worried parents instead. But he doesn't need to worry, because you always give in to him, especially when it's about your parents.

(And he knows better than anyone how much you love them.)

Your teeth almost shatter, anger consumes you as the bastard on the other side of the call keeps your parents hostage, and for what? So he could have his way with you just like the other passed out viltrumite?

"You bastard!" You scream as your fist clenches tightly enough to draw blood with your nails. "I'll kill you, I swear I'll kill you when I see you".

There's silence on the other line, and then a loud boisterous laugh that makes you seethe, you bite your lip as a way to dissipate some of the rage, but it's useless and now the taste of iron feels your mouth.

"Oh come on dear, don't make me laugh, just tell me where you are right now and I'll come and get you".

"What if you just tell me where you are instead". Tikki has stopped eating, instead she is listening carefully.

"[name]", now he sounds cold, icy, like a man that wants control and demands respect, "I'm not playing around, if you don't tell me where you are right now I will murder your parents, and trust me I've been hitching to do it a second time".

Then you beg, because you need more time, more time to think about something.

"Please, just, just let me come to you, don't hurt them, please". Even if you're pissed, you can't play around with the lives of your parents. It's almost impossible to stay still after this piece of shit has just said that he would gladly kill them again.

From the other line you hear a disturbing sigh, one of pleasure, a sigh that belongs to a beast that is appeased.

"I just love when you beg, you do it so nicely too. A shame I can't see your face". Making a decision is difficult, you could tell him where you are but you're not sure after his revelation that he wouldn't kill them just to see your reaction.

"Do you remember that abandoned factory? The one we always went to when we needed some time away from everyone else?" You do remember it, but that wasn't the purpose of the building for the both of you. You and Mark had found the place after a whole day of exploring the outskirts of the city, but you rarely ever went there.

"I—I thought you were closer to where I am now" you mutter.

You can almost feel the way the expression on the other Mark's face changes, you can view the way the fabric of his mask creases due to his eyebrows furrowing from confusion.

"Where are you [name]?" You can taste the desperation rolling out of him in waves. You don't know if he will buy this, but Mark was never the sharpest tool in the shed compared to you.

"I am sorry, I just—I forgot that I'm not in the USA right now. I just panicked when you said you would kill my parents." You say everything fast, trying to fake being panicked in the best possible way.

"I'm in Paris right now" you say the address of your aunt's old apartment, now empty as she has moved out of it a while ago.

"You need to come get me..".

A beat, a shaky breath as your parents are almost screaming as they understand that you have given up your location.

"You're really lucky that I'm in a good mood today", the phrase almost feels like deja vu as you remember the Mark with the mohawk saying something similar.

"Ah, and wear something nice" he adds, before hanging up.

As soon as the call ends you're in the air suited up and running as fast as you can. You zap from building to building as you hope, no, as you pray, that by some miracle you were going to be faster than him.

Hello! This was fun to write, honestly a roller coaster since I've never written smut before but there's a first time for everything I guess. This was shorter than the other parts since my Easter break is almost over and I need to prepare for a big exam. Anyways thank you for reading and see you next time <3

[selfindulgenceisthekey]

lil late to the reading but im back part 4 NEOWWWWWW

Hello again anon! <3 Also side note: if anyone has one shot requests for this universe (or in general) send them in! I'd love to write some!

Pt. I Pt. II Pt. III

Seeing Luffy standing so calmly before you, anxiety spiked in your chest. He walked in, shutting the door behind him so casually, looking at you  as if he hadn’t quite literally knocked you out and brought you aboard his ship.

“Luffy,” Your tone, though quiet, was questioning and angry. You still winced; the simple word caused little sparks of pain to tickle your throat.

“Please, sit down,” Chopper looked somewhat desperate, little hooves gently directing you back to the bed you had rushed up from.

This time, you didn’t fight back, allowing yourself to be corralled into sitting. He looked less stressed once you had sat, letting out a little huff. Luffy stood behind, eyes glancing between Chopper and you.

“Your ankle is sprained, you need to do your best to stay off of it! And keep it elevated, too.” 

You didn’t respond, but tore your gaze away from Luffy to look down at their little doctor, nodding stiffly at his words. His face brightened a bit at your acknowledgement, before he took one glance towards his captain.

“I’ll— I’ll give you two some space!” He tugged nervously at the edges of his hat, quickly darting towards the door.

“Thanks, Chopper,” To you, it sounded like Luffy was far warmer talking to him than he had been acknowledging you had been awake.

“Thank you.” Your voice was quiet, but you still extended your gratitude towards him— he had dressed your wounds, cleaned them to avoid infections, the least you could do was tell him your thanks.

“Your thanks don’t make me happy, or anything!” He shouted quickly, the smile on his face opposite of the words leaving his mouth, before shutting the door quickly.

Silence fell over the pair of you, and the cool, almost bored look on Luffy’s face did nothing but make your heart skip several beats in your chest.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ignored any discomfort talking put you through to ask, unable to look him in the eye, your gaze focused on the closed door behind him.

He tilted his head, the shadow of a pout on his face, “You were hurt, so I brought you tso Chopper so he could fix your injuries.” He glanced at the bandages littering different parts of your body, “Most of us don’t get that hurt all the time, you must be pretty weak.”

He laughed after he said that, as if the situation now appeared funny to him. You narrowed your eyes, chest tight, “What—”

“That’s fine! You don’t have to be strong or good at fighting, we’ll find something for you to do on board. We’re all strong enough that you don’t have to be, especially Sanji!”

He continued to talk, growing more energetic by the second as he did so, face turning from apathetic to excited. The smile you were used to was present, making the Luffy you remember from the previous night at the bar seem like a bad dream.

“Luffy, wait—”

“He’s in the kitchen right now! He and Chopper were talking about boring stuff before you woke up, and then Sanji started making you some type of soup. He wouldn’t give me any,” He pouted a bit, interrupting you without a care in the world.

“Luffy—”

“I’ll call him in! He’ll be excited to see you awake! He was so mad when he saw how beat up you were,” He giggled again, “But I told him I beat those guys, so he didn’t have to worry.”

“I—”

You were growing frustrated; every start of your sentence was cut off. It came off accidental at first, like he was just happy you were awake and seemingly okay. But the unwavering look in his eyes made you think twice, he was filling the air so you couldn’t speak. 

He turned, opening the door and sticking his head out. You still weren’t used to seeing him use his devil fruit powers, so seeing him stretch his neck out still unnerved you. You could hear him yelling from the hall, “Sanji! She’s awake!”

His head snapped back in quickly, and the door was left open. The smile melted off his face slowly, as if a thought had dawned on him.

“When he’s here, you need to apologise to him.”

“I- what?”

“Apologise. To Sanji.” He spoke slower, taking one step closer to you, “You hurt him. But now you’re back! So you have to say you’re sorry, and everything will be okay.”

“Sorry? Sorry for what, I—”

“You know what,” The firmness present in his voice made your blood feel like ice in your veins, and in the silence, you could hear faint footsteps echoing outside.

The door creaked open, and you watched Sanji enter quietly, a tray held firmly in his hands. Luffy shifted to allow him room to enter, the grin back on his face as if it had never left. “Sanji!” 

“Your snacks on the counter, captain,” He spoke, the one eye peeking from behind his bangs remaining focused on you.

Without a loud cheer, Luffy was out the door, flip flops smacking the whole way he ran. The door slammed shut behind him as the last of Luffy’s noise faded from your ears. It was still inside the sick bay, neither of you moving, both barely breathing. After a moment, Sanji seemed to shake himself out of whatever thoughts he was lost in, moving to set the tray on the desk nearest you.

“I have some chicken soup here, it’s simple but it’s good for you and shouldn’t agitate your throat too much.” Simple, he said, it smelled divine from where you were seated. “Water, as well as chamomile tea with honey,” he said gesturing to the two mugs on the tray

Thank you, it was right on the tip of your tongue, biting to get out. But you remained silent, staring at him. You felt like you probably looked bug-eyed staring at him how you were. He fiddled with the tray some, adjusting the spoon on the napkin, straightening the napkin.

His shoulders were high, and even as he was faced away you knew his expression was probably pinched. It was probably taking everything in him not to light a cigarette now, you saw the familiar twitch in his fingers. Then—

“I’m sorry.” It was barely a whisper from you, but in the silence of the room, it seemed to echo.

His head twitched, as if he had stopped himself from turning to face you fully. The silence now broken, the words spilled out of you.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, that wasn’t— I had a job to do. There were people who would have- would have been killed if I hadn’t gotten the map. Everyone had said you and your crew were cold and cruel, and you weren’t— you weren’t supposed to be kind, and I didn’t know at first that my leaving would hurt you.”

“But you knew it would hurt eventually?” The question came out quiet, soft. He knew the answer, he just wanted you to admit it.

You hated the warmth of tears building behind your eyelids, “Yes,” Admitting it felt sour, “I knew… But I swear, if I had had any other choice, I—”

“You could have told us,” He turned now, leaning against the desk, looking at you sadly, “Or me, at the very least.”

“All I could think of was making sure the Mitsu family wasn’t killed because of me.”

He nodded, accepting your words without argument. The weight that had been building in your chest felt lighter, unfortunately, it was still present, pressing against your heart, against your ribs. 

“Well,” His demeanor shifted, a bright grin on his face, cheeks pressed so high his one eye was squinting, “That’s all behind us now, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” The shift startled you, and you blinked a few times, trying to process it. “Yeah?”

“You’ll never have to see any of those people again. What were their names? Hel and his group. You won’t have to worry about stealing from pirates and marines to keep safe now.” He grabbed the bowl and spoon, turning to bring it towards you, gentle in his steps. “Those people, that island, that town— all in the past.”

“What do you,” You moved your head back, he had scooped a shallow spoonful of the broth and brought it to your lips, appearing determined to feed you by hand, “What do you mean?”

Was their plan not to bring you on board, get the information they needed from you, possibly deal out some pirate punishment, then drop you back off and be on their merry way?

Sanji just sighed, the small smile never leaving his face as he moved the spoon away, “Was it too hot, ma chérie?”

“No, it’s,” You put a hand up now, physically blocking the spoon, not caring about the broth that spilled, “Sanji, what do you mean it’s all behind me?”

He watched the soup fall, his face hardening as he took his time to respond, “We don’t waste food on this ship. I’ll be lenient now because you’re injured, love, but you need to remember that going forward.”

Putting the spoon in the soup, he sat it back down on the tray, “As for it being behind you, I mean that exactly. The island, and everyone on it, is behind you, behind us.”

Behind us? He couldn’t mean—

“Your injuries took a toll on your body, which is one reason I want to ensure you eat everything here; you missed out on necessary proteins and nutrients while you were unconscious. Luffy took care of the men from before, though I wish he’d let me come with him when—”

“Sanji, how long was I unconscious for?”

Your question appeared to startle him, and he blinked, “Three days, we set sail right after Luffy brought you on board. Now, hey—”

You were up and slamming yourself into the door before you could even process what you had been doing, the cuts on your arms stinging at the impact. Sanji was moving behind you, but you tuned it out, opening the door and rushing out. 

A cool breeze blew your hair about, soft winds tickling your skin. You could feel the salt in the air and taste it in your mouth. Pressing against the railing, you looked about almost frantically. Open blue waters were the only thing that greeted you. No land, no other ships— just deep waters and the deck of the Sunny. Distantly, you were aware that Sanji was behind you, pressing gentle hands against your shoulders.

“Let’s go back into the sick bay, okay? You shouldn’t strain your injuries,” His voice sounded as if you were hearing him from under water.

You kept your body firm where you stood, refusing to budge. If you stared long enough, if you stared hard enough, then maybe you’d wake up. Maybe this was some vivid dream, and you were still asleep in some rich marine’s bed. Maybe you had hallucinated Luffy coming to the bar, this had to be fake. 

It couldn’t be real.

Taglist: @hannahbarberra162 @sagyunaro @twismare @nerium21 @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @glaciuswduo @thekatisspooky

[lapdogchase]

i like[1] this website because a joke post u made in 3 seconds[2] vaguely complaining about something that does not matter[3] will get 15k notes in a matter of days and then people will misinterpret it in wild & unpredictable & cynical ways possible. Like before responding in a hostile manner to a post maybe stop[4] and go "is it possible that op did not set out to make a post commenting in a serious manner about a serious problem"[5] "is it possible that op did not sit down before posting to ensure that there is no possible way their[6] post could be read in a bad light"[7] "am i picking up on an implication that is actually there or are my own life experiences informing my view of this post in a way that may not be accurate"[8] etc. like would it kill[9] people to be a little less quick to lash out when it is fully possible they may be misunderstanding something[10]

---

[1] this is sarcasm, i do not like when people do this.

[2] this is an exaggeration, it often takes more than three seconds to type a post.

[3] sometimes a post may be complaining about something that Does matter. this post is not claiming that most or all posts are about something that does not matter. likewise, the idea that something "doesn't matter" has been used to downplay the struggles of marginalized communities, and some things online do, in fact, matter. this post, however, is about shit that does not matter

[4] OP is not insisting you do this. there is no manipulation, coercion, or violation of consent; you are not forced to do anything you don't want to to. you are not being silenced or censored.

[5] the original poster may have meant to make a silly post about a serious issue, or a silly post about a silly issue. oftentimes, posts are not meant to be all-encompassing thesis statements on broad social issues addressing all the possible pitfalls of a certain argument as well as what lends credence to it

[6] the use of the neutral pronoun "they" in this sentence is due to its reference to a hypothetical person or group of people rather than any specific individual who may or may not use they/them pronouns. it is not an attempt to actively misgender or degender anybody. for further clarity, OP is fully supportive of trans and nonbinary people and is in fact a member of the trans community

[7] while OP has ocd, it seems an unnecessary addition to this post, but he has noticed a trend of general anxiety-related behaviors being attributed to ocd when that is not necessarily the cause of such behaviors. he therefore finds it worth saying that people without ocd who have been on tumblr for a long time are also prone to this behavior, as being misinterpreted is incredibly common online, and does not necessarily indicate the presence of obsessive-compulsive disorder. i.e., sometimes people just worry about stuff

[8] accurate meaning, here, accurate to the intent of the original poster. it is not meant to state that a person's emotions about a post are "wrong" or that they are misinterpreting their own feelings. additionally, it is reasonable that a person's experiences would influence their view of the world; it is equally reasonable to expect them to think before being aggressive towards strangers online

[9] this is a turn of phrase, not meant to state that any lives will actually be ended by this action. this footnote is also not meant to imply anything negative about those who experience anxiety around the concept of death

[10] OP is relinquishing himself from the responsibility[11] of this post[12]. if it gains sentience and runs off to colorado to rob a bank and go on a killing spree that is not his fault

[11] whether or not a person can truly be relinquished from the consequences of any of their actions is a matter of debate irrelevant to this post

[12] OP is aware that this post opens him up to receiving many identical and increasingly unfunny comments intentionally misconstruing his words or intentions. he is nicely asking you not to do that because it's very exhausting

[r0-boat]

Welcome home Masters!

7 Kings X Gn!Maid Reader

Hello this is my contribution too @mammonsmaster's WHB Collab!

Synopsis: Maybe working at a maid cafe in hell it was a mistake....

Cw: No sex but still smut because very suggestive, mentions of drugs, gambling, stripping, workplace harassment, workplace sexual harassment, MC is gender-neutral with feminization they are in a maid dress people, Reader is so fucking done, long as hell, mostly crack, silly fun

Enjoy Masters~!

Just a week ago, was the final nail in the coffin to get a job in hell.

The very idea of you working a job was heavily frowned upon by the Seven Kings who doted on you and 65 of their loyal servants who shared their very opinions. Even the money loving Bimet whose words you can still hear now that you type your resume "Don't soil your hands with work of the common when there are so many more ways that you especially could earn money." With the look of jealousy that would make even Leviathan impressed.

As much as you did here where they were coming from. About sudden angel attacks and hell still being dangerous. Becoming $1 million in debt because a devil at an Abyssos casino challenged to a game of poker was something. Instead of losing gold coins, the currency of Hell, and something you never had, the logical course of action was to go for the money in your earthly wallet. It was fucking traumatizing! You swore to yourself that would never happen again. As much as you are grateful for all seven of those kings to work for you to pay off your debt, the eye candy is so graciously enjoyed. You could still feel poor peepaw Solomon rolling in his grave every time you think about the $1 million you've never had that you lost.

The best thing about job hunting in hell Is that as soon as your resume hits the internet businesses from giant conglomerates in Tartaros to small Mom & Pop shops in Gehenna from cozy diners to strip clubs and bars flood your inboxes with messages offering you any amount of money with the greatest hours anyone could offer just for you to work under their roof. Because these devils knew that you were pretty much a celebrity, and wherever you went, potential paying customers would follow. So there you were, sitting on your bed, your golden laptop (gifted by You-Know-Who). You scroll through the plentiful options this job listing website has offered you.

You had no interest in corporations in Hell if they were anything like the ones on Earth, nor did you care enough to find out. Whether it's office work or on-site work, you are not working there, which was about 19% of applications you had to delete. You'd rather work somewhere smaller and less corporate.

You were not working in a place that worked with produced or was known for sex, adult toys, drugs, and alcohol. If you were already saying that just by walking down the street You did not even want to know what it was like working at a club or whatever Hell's equivalent of a Spencer's was!! And that was about 80% of the applications!!! Even some of the big companies fall into this category!

At the end of your mass deleting session, you were left with about 10 options that were currently hiring and had messaged you, at least one from each of the seven kingdoms.

Scrolling at the bottom and refreshing a page, another one pops up. That one caught your eye. It didn't have a lot of hours, but honestly, those were the ones you were looking for since you were trying to hide the fact that you even had a job. But it was also in Abyssos with morning hours, 3 days a week on weekdays. A humble cafe located at the end of a street corner, away from the large casinos and theme parks. As much as you were a little bitter at Abyssos for being the architect of your financial doom, this was the best choice. Out of all of the Seven Kingdoms, demons from Abyssos care about fun and in the moment more than anything else. The chances of you running into Beelzebub were far lower than in other countries; even if he was in this Kingdom, he wouldn't be there for long. Even if he did see you He would probably forget that you worked there after he left.

As much as you loved Gehenna, the chances of you running into Satan were very high; he knew everyone and was really popular with the devils who lived there. Satan, along with Mammon and Leviathan, were against you getting a job the most. So, who knows how mad he would be if he saw you on your shift? And his regular shenanigans are not really ideal if you just want peaceful shifts. Plus you can't imagine what kind of Karens the Kingdom of Wrath hosts.

Tartaros was a firm no. If you wanted to avoid large companies and corporate greed, honestly, you would stay 100% clear of Tartaros when it comes to looking for a job.

Hades sounds fine until you realize you will be working with envious devils. You can't imagine how bad the workplace drama could be. Not only that, the chances of Leviathan finding out are 99.9% which will lead you to a force transfer to his department, and by department, I mean wherever the fuck he feels like.

To work in Paradise Lost, you would need the permission of its king, and Lucifer would only agree for you to work there if it was underneath him directly. As tempting as it was, working in the medical department is terrifying, and you're not sure about working with a boss who you also bang.

Even though the chances of meeting Belphegor during your shift are lower than those of Beelzebub If you worked in Niffleheim, you would never have a break, a vacation, or even the day off; you can practically already hear the micromanaging. Belphegor was so eager at the idea of you working. He immediately offered, to his credit, a high-paying job to work in his castle, the benefits being "I don't fucking know..." And hours being "Forever I guess..." The job description very ominously being "Everything I need ya for Sugar. "

Abbaddon...

You let out a heavy sigh, lift your head out of your hands, and stare back at your screen. Your mouse had been hovering over the Cafe job listing for too long. Finally, you decided to bite the bullet and respond. The owner responded immediately with a casual and friendly tone. You're not sure if the lack of professionalism was refreshing or concerning. Is it a hell thing or an Abyssos thing that job interview didn't exist? But it was too late to contemplate now because the person who you assume was the boss pretty much hired you immediately over text. And informed you but in a couple days Wednesday You would come in at 12:00 And they'll teach you all that you need to know!

The cafe was "themed" after the ones on Earth They even had special events that lasted for a week every now and then. The owners were a middle-aged looking married couple. The husband who had slicked back hair and in undercut shook her hand very enthusiastically. Expressing his excitement to see a human in person. He had this innocent look in his eyes that made your heart melt He was probably hundreds of years older than you but he greeted you with such gusto. As he was yapping and rambling about his life in Hades and his dream to start a business blah blah blah- something from the back caught your extension. What you assume was the wife came practically stumbling out of the back room, You have the look of a cold-blooded killer on her face. She snarled when her blood red eyes landed on yours She didn't even say a word when she walked toward you before extending her hand, pinching the bridge of her nose her whole face scrunching up as if she was in pain. The husband beamed at his wife as if she was the most beautiful thing on earth. "Oh! That's Camilla! My beautiful wife! Sorry for her scary face She's nursing a hangover... Her old mates from Gehenna wanted to drink with her. She may look scary but I promise she's a sweetheart!"

Pink dusted her cheeks as she glared at her husband before muzzling his cheek, She put a hand on your head gently patting it before going to the back room.

You met the other part-time workers: a Young devil studying in a university in Tartaros, who seemed to be attached to you by the hip, her bright blue eyes looking at you like you were the most interesting thing in the world, Just buy her expensive jewelry you could tell where she was from. Her style was very up-to-date with Tartaros fashion with her golden name tag reading Xiulan. She mimicked you and every move you made with wide eyes and a big smile She was shy and didn't talk much but for some reason when it came to you suddenly she was just as talkative as your boss.

And an older man from Niffleheim with a lopsided name tag reading Kenji, who was the cafe's chef, who to this day you are unsure if he liked you or not. Every time he would see you running up to him with a big smile he would audibly grumble "Oh God, not you again..." But at the same time he would baked cook and feed you special dishes he made to ask how it tasted. But honestly did more micromanaging than Camilla and Lucian combined.

And all was well...

Until... The Day of reckoning...

A month into your job, your first event, Lucian your boss and Camilla's husband summoned you and the other part-timer as well a silence as ever Camila. "Okay this is very special! We all heard about The rulers of hell working as butlers at a shop on Earth". You tried to stop yourself from cringing when he mentioned.

"I think we should do the same! Instead of butlers, we can do maids!" Lucian said. Camilla smiled at his enthusiasm, with Camila taking measurements and Lucian with the shopping, You and Xuilan forcing Kenji to wear his goddamn maid outfit.

Besides Xuilan and Kenji getting into another fight during your lunch break when Kenji attempted to hand feed you only for Xuilan to Huff and bite it out of his hand, you yelled at both of them, and now they're sulking for the rest of their shift. You smiled as the bell above the door rang and two new customers entered. You skipped over to the new customer with your sweetest voice. You said, "Welcome home master!"

"oh~Is this some kind of roleplay?..." A familiar voice purred. Your eyes shot open... Oh fuck no.

You look up to see in all your horror. Not just one but two Leviathan and Beelzebub.

Leviathan's expression was unreadable. He looked down at you with wide, unblinking eyes, and his lips parted slightly.

Beelzebub's shocked expression faded instantly, replaced by a smug smile. "Aren't you going to see your masters?" He purred making you clench your fists. Hissing through your teeth, you respond, trying so hard for your customer service switch to flip. "Yes! Of course right this way." As you led them over to their table, you could feel holes being burned into your backside. As soon as you sit them down, that fake smile fades as you lean against the table to the both of them. Whisper screaming "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

Leviathan was oddly silent as Beelzebub spoke up for him, wrapping an arm around Levi. "Taking grumpy shut-in for a walk! Thought something That didn't have a lot of people was good for him. Could be asking you the same thing." You try to ignore Beelzebub leaning heavily to the right trying to get a better look at you.

You wanted them out now! And why the fuck is Levi so quiet... Usually, he's spitting poison or telling you how worthless you are, but he's just sitting there silently. His eyes never leave you, not even for a second, as you walk to grab a pen and notepad. Honestly, it's creepy as fuck the feeling that somebody is watching your every move, and you prefer when he's threatening to kill you.

In classic Beelzebub fashion, He orders one of everything on the menu. One. Of. Everything.

"And for you, master?" You turn to Leviathan, who just covers his face with said menu. You sigh, taking that as a no. As you head to the back, the burning sensation in your back does not leave. Kenji is there waiting for you on the other side of the wall. "Is that his majesty?" He whispers, and you finish this sentence with your palm and your hands as you give him the piece of paper with their order. "Leviathan and Beelzebub... Yea..."

Kenji looks at the paper in his eyes go wide. "Am I reading this right?"

"One of everything?? Yes."

Kenji rubs his eyes and he looks again.

"It's not changing Ken..."

"shit, I don't know whether to be excited or scared?" Despite his beefy appearance, the many scars on his body, and the fact that he looks like a yakuza member, Kenji takes pride in his cooking. Honestly, the only thing helping your anxiety-riddled mess is the fact that a muscular man like Kenji is in a frilly maid dress complete with a fake magic tail and ears that move.

Xiulan had already gone home since she usually opens. You saw Kenji going to the kitchen with Camilla. Kenji and Camilla looked so excited to get started. It seemed that they genuinely loved cooking. And when you tried to talk to Lucian, he just gave you a dismissive, "I don't care much for Hell politics... Whether they are kings, royals, or nobles, we treat all our customers like our Masters!" Lucian is way too committed to the bit.

The first five dishes come to their table, and Beelzebub's mouth waters at the smell. He takes a bite before you can see an idea popping into his head, and his lips curve into that signature shit-eating grin.

Oh no it begins...

"Miss maid, can you feed it to me~" Beel purred with the spoon still in his mouth. Which finally seemed to have awakened His majesty asshole of Envy. "You've already ordered everything on the menu fatass! Must you bother them even more?" Levi snarled.

You turn back to see Lucian, his eyes wide with sparkles, watching this whole thing. 'I thought you said you weren't interested in hell politics... ' You said internally before returning to Beelzebub. Taking a spoon out of his mouth, you scoop up some rice from the curry he ordered with the sweetest smile. "Open wide, Master!" Beelzebub is making sure to stick his tongue out,, too. Before he could take it off the spoon, Leviathan practically shoves him, putting it in his mouth instead of taking the food off that utensil. "Seriously, how annoying can you be? How is anyone supposed to eat if your hand feeding it?!" He glared at you, finally gently slapping your shoulder with the menu he had been holding onto this entire time. "Just get me one of your sodas!"

"Levi, if you wanted some food, you could have just asked..." Beelzebub said with a noticeable amount of annoyance. Whatever it was, it wasn't your problem as you tried so desperately to hide your exhausted side before you retreated back to the other side of the counter.

Around the afternoon, the cafe wasn't supposed to be as busy since The Abyssos nightlife was starting to kick up, and most devils were beginning to go bar hopping, clubbing, or gambling. Other than the two royalty on the side of the room, you were trying desperately to ignore. You served another table of regulars.

You smiled and greeted them with your usual soft tone, not forgetting to add 'Master!' at the end of it.

Leviathan's eyebrow twitched as he watched the whole interaction. Beelzebub had already cleaned his first round of plates while waiting for the other round of food. He was on his phone, texting. Leviathan stared at the hardly touched cup of cream soda. He slid his arm against the cup, slowly knocking it over the edge, some of that liquid splashing on a thigh. Hearing the noise, his head whipped around, immediately abandoning his current task and running to the King's (TM) table.

"Oh my goodness are you okay master?!" You ask You're so glad you keep a clean rag in your pocket. Levi's breath hatched when he felt your hands on his thigh pressing the rag against his pants. Staring down at you his pupils blown wide, How long have you been wearing this? How many more people had their eyes on you all day? 10? 20??

If it were up to him,, you would be serving only him. Dressed like this 24/7, with that sweet smile only for him, as you obediently cater to his every wish.

You press your rag harder on his thighs trying to soak up as much soda as you can. When your eyes dirt back up at him he grabs his teeth hoping you don't see the tent beginning to form in his pants. Once you are satisfied you move the rag to the table and then floor wiping up the rest of the spill. "Would you like me to get you more soda master to replace the one you spelled?"

Your voice snapped him out of his fantasy " what do you think? and be quicker this time You're as slow as you look " Leviathan huffed. You tried so hard not to grab the customer by the collar. As you left to go get a clean rag.

Coming back to the table your voice was sickly sweet as you hiss through forced smile "Oh my master is so clumsy~! Here!"

With enough force, you can slam down a sippy cup to make this table shake with a loud bang. Levi's eyes went wide, the loud noise making him jump back in his chair. His cheeks were dusted pink. He begrudgingly accepted the sippy cup without another word as Beelzebub busted out laughing.

When you finally finished serving your regulars You heard the bell on the door ring again this time It sounded like a whole group of people came in. When you rush to the door you wanted to jump out of your skin.

What the fuck.... Mammon and Satan?! Mammon hummed his eyes trailing up and down your body before giving you a whistle.

"Not sure which I'm more angry about, The fact that you went against what I said or the fact that you didn't tell me about it!" Satan raised his voice hissing through his gridded teeth but Mammon puts a hand in his shoulder. "If you don't like it then you can just go home, Beelzebub invited us to dinner, we should at least enjoy the food while we're here as well as the other services."

"fuck no I'm staying!" Satan growled smacking Mammon's hand off his shoulder.

Beelzebub You bitch! You internally scream as you whip your head around to see the man of your reckoning wave from the table they were seated.

"T-this way master..." You stuttered as you tried hard to regain that cheerful, ready-to-please attitude. "Master? I can get used to that!" Satan smiles wrapping an arm around your waist to feel how the dress compliments your body. Before walking ahead to his table, Mammon follows in tow but not before fully groping your ass on the way making you squeak at that moment, wondering if there is a hotline in hell for workplace harassment.

When they sit down you hear Satan, "Leviathan why do you have a sippy cup?"

"shut the fuck up short shit..." Leviathan mudders putting the cup up to his lips.

You wish your boss and coworkers could do more for you, but the fact is that they are kings, and there isn't a whole lot they could do about it... You didn't even bother bringing out menus as they were probably just going to eat whatever Beelzebub ordered prior.

You go to the back room to see if the second serving of food is ready, You look back to see all four staring at you; despite being clothed, you've never felt so naked as they undress you with their eyes. You knew exactly where Mammon was shamelessly staring. And they weren't exactly quiet either you could hear their shameless conversation.

"the maid outfit is nice... But... It seems a bit long and flowy. Something tighter around the waist... Hmm... Perhaps something to show off a little more assets?"

"lace?"

"ah yes! I didn't know you had such great tastes Beelzebub! "

"I pay attention where it counts!"

"It doesn't matter what they where everything is going to go on the floor anyway... "

"tch... No sense of style... No wonder you dress like that."

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH YOU'RE DRINKING OUT OF A SIPPY CUP!!!"

You knew these were devils but come on... You're on the clock... Surely they'll cut you some slack on the clock right?? When you walked past the door, Lucian ran up to you, holding your hands in his. "Which one is your boyfriend?" He said with a big smile on his face. "I- What?" You are so cut off guard by his question. "So if you are Solomon's descendant are they all your boyfriends?!" Lucian continues. You didn't like the excitement in his eyes. " Hold on honey Wait here! "

He smiles as he runs to the kitchen with a skip in his step. He comes out with the fake tail and cat ears That was on Kenji before. Looks like he was more than welcome to give those up. Lucian hum does he replace your maid headband with the cat eared one and hooked up the magical tail right to the dress. "There you go dear aren't you the cutest kitten!! Now since today is going to get slower for the rest of the day now go out there and make your boyfriend happy! "

He smiled pushing you back out the door as you were wondering what the hell just happened. Did your boss just sell you out? You can't tell if he was supportive of your love life or a bad boss for subjecting you to more horrors. He sounds less of a boss and more of a nosy grandma. You made the mistake of looking back to see half of lucian's face peeking out from the other side. You say as you walk back to the table. Mammon's eyebrows perked up when he saw the new additions to your outfit. "hm... Better... But my point still stands." He smirks his arms cross.

Beelzebub whistled "Can you give us a little twirl?"

Ignoring their comments you smile "I'm sorry It will be a little longer till your food. If there's anything else you would like please let me know."

Satan gave you a toothy grin patting his lap "Aren't you tired from standing up all day? Why don't you set in my lap?"

"S-sorry You're not allowed to touch the Maids." You stutter again You could feel your face getting flushed, You've gotten attention from customers before but with the kings it was another level, if this was on earth this would be sexual harassment.

"Sorry doll face but I think we already broke that rule. "Satan purrs.

Beelzebub seems to finally notice what you said about the food leaning on his elbow "Don't worry about the food, we're waiting for more. "

"M-more?" Your eyes widened

"Oh yes, more." Mammon grins. "You're not just going to get a job as a cute little maid and expect us not to want to see it."

"You're welcome pretty." Beel chimed in making a kiss motion with his lips.

By the time your next break came around you sat in the break room your head in your hands, You swore this whole day was going to make you lose 5 years of your life. And it was about to get worse.

You could handle Lucifer and and Belphegor.

But... The devil you feared the most...

'The creature.'

There was no way 500 years he would miss the opportunity to see you in a maid outfit.

As much as he was sexy as fuck. That beast is terrifying.

But what you didn't think is how fast they would come in. Your 15 minute break ended. And you wanted to scream when you saw a Asmodeus walking in with a smile on his face coming from a portal carrying Belphegor piggyback. Lucifer following behind His eyebrows slightly raised as he looked around with interest.

By work policy you had to greet them.

Come on... Think about the paycheck, think about the paycheck, think about the paycheck, think about the paycheck, repeating your head like a mantra that would rival the Seraphim.

With a dead look in your eyes Your cat ears and tail which made Belphegore perk up from his nap and a curtsy that made Asmodeus bite his lip. "Welcome May I take you to your table?

'Oh God it's moving...!'

Asmodeus smirked smelling smelling fear.

"Aww No 'welcome home Master'~!"

You grit your teeth biting back the urge to strangle.

"He is correct you know. Aren't you supposed to be in character?" Lucifer unexpectedly chimes in.

'Lucifer you traitor!!' You sob internally

Belphegor resting his head on Asmodeus's shoulder, sneers "Aw ain't ya a shy kitty."

Your face red utterly shaking as you try so hard to summon every last ounce of fucks to give.

"welcome home, Masters~!" You gave them a cute smile.

The devils were too stunt to speak. Lucifer took a white handkerchief before pressing it to his nos. You saw a little bits of red staining the handkerchief when he folded it before threw it away into a nearby trash can when they walked over to their table.

You know in a fucked up way despite the torture and the more torture to come it was kind of nice seeing all the kings hang out like old friends. despite the abysmal difference in what's legal or not and the lack of overall morality they're no different from any other close group of friends

"Yup I'm definitely beating it tonight!" Asmodeus says with confidence Immediately tanking the mood.

"Honestly same." Belphegor mutters as he got off Asmodeus's back to sit in a chair.

There they were all Seven Kings... All eyes on you. A pack of hungry wolves watching a defenseless deer.

Levi grit his teeth at the empty sippy cup in his hand when you walk over to those same regulars who had been sitting there for a while now. Satan was grinding his teeth staring daggers at those poor devils

"um... Descendant of Solomon..." One of them asked his face red as he plays with his fingers a shy smile on his face His puppy love for you made your heart melt as his friend tried to hype him up. Leviathan rose up from his seat like a corpse from the grave, Satan's nails digging into the table looking like he was about to lunge like a feral animal, only to both pause.

"May I get a picture!" Your cute smile makes Satan grip the table his hand shaking trying so hard not to flip it. "Yes you may but you know the rules!" You practically skip over to a shelf grabbing the deck of cards.

"win against me in a game of poker! And you may get your picture!"

Poker might seem like a bad idea... Given that it was the main reason why you were here in the first place.

But you have changed since then... Countless nights mastering the game, all the harsh and painful lessons from your former poker Master Jjyu. Your hand still hurt, remembering that he would slap your hands with a sandal if you were to get sloppy.

Solomon would be proud of how quickly you destroyed those poor devils letting them leave dejected.

As you clean the cards back up You have made the mistake to turn your head around back to the only devils in the cafe now...

You did not like the look in their eyes....

......

You have trained for this moment... As they cleared off the table with empty dishes and freshly cooked food to place on another table nearby. All seven devils plus you. Playing a round of poker...

Each of the seven devils gets one chance, whoever wins. It is he who gets that photo.

[urhoneycombwitch]

ohhh I wanna take a seat on his face so bad 😩 want him to smirk up at me when I try to hover instead of sitting sitting, and I want him to let me get away with it for a round or two, until my legs are shaking so bad they give out and he’s literally being smothered by me. and I want to try to move off his face, but he hooks those beefy arms of his around my thighs and holds me down, laughing about how he can REALLY eat now…

or something like that, idk 🤷‍♀️

- super duper not rebelfell

you're so right because he'd let you get away with it the first time.

i think one of the sexiest things about him (TO ME) is that he knows what it's like to move through the world in a bigger body, and while he doesn't have your lived experience he can at least relate to some aspects of it much more personally.

which is why he doesn't hold it against you, ever, when you're hesitant or nervous to try something new that wasn't an option before. he's patient and kind and never puts pressure on you to perform or be any type of way other than what you are. figuring it out together!

anyways he lets you feel it out for the first orgasm.

not actually putting your full weight on him, holding onto the bedpost to slightly hover, preoccupied with the thought of smothering him or anything else that could go wrong in this position.

but by the time he rips the first one from you, lips suctioned to your clit and hands steadying your hips, his hands move.

gently, at first, acting like he's simply petting you on the comedown. you're breathing so heavily, ears ringing in the aftermath that you hardly notice, which is by design.

it's not until Eddie has both of his arms along the length of your legs, hands curled around the inside of your thighs, that you realize what he's done.

it's extremely easy, now, for Eddie to use use his full strength at this angle. caging you in, nosing up the line of your soaked cunt, finding his rhythm again. (it's also much easier to give spankings at this angle. which you will come to find out.)

even when your thighs jolt in surprise and legs start turning to jelly with the introduction of his tongue exploring the inside of you, there's still a part of you that tries to hold back. hands floundering around to grab support, to lift yourself off again just for a sec-

until Eddie lifts one of his hands to take yours into his hair. fingers sinking into soft curls, spooling around your fingers.

"don't be afraid to pull," he says, lips shining with your slick, moving only to pull your knees closer around his ears. "you're in control, here, sweetheart."

it takes a few more rounds to really get you comfortable with releasing all previous inhibitions, but you get there for sure.

neighbor!Eddie mlist

[sukunastoy]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Chapter 3 (CEO! Sukuna x Fem! Reader, MDNI)

⭐This is a redo of my story, Shameful Attraction. I've rewritten it as I originally wanted so long ago. I was trying to write it to appease people and once I let go of that and just started to enjoy the story for itself, the flow became a lot better. For those who read it before, there are major changes you'll notice. For those who haven't read it at all before, I hope you enjoy. <3⭐

⬇️PLEASE READ BEFORE STARTING THE STORY! ⬇️

Modern age AU, no curses. Sukuna still has his tattoos, but his face ones are carefully hidden. This story is set in Japan, and I've done my best to impliment real life into it. For example, tattoos in Japan are still taboo, and people associate them with the yakuza, so its not normal to see everyday people have them. Though I know I won't have all the details of modern day life in Japan correct, I hope you still enjoy.

Pairings: CEO Sukuna x Fem Reader Content/Trigger Warnings: This story has a lot of abuse in it. Reader is in an abusive relationship with her fiance, Toji. There are several moments in the story that highlight this including, but not limited to, acts of violence and aggression towards reader, including name calling, shoving, punching, sexual assault, being manipulated, unwanted bondage and containment, food denial, being drugged etc. Reader is thin, not allowed to eat a lot per Toji's rules in regards to her weight. If she feels like she is gaining weight, she will make herself throw up after meals. Reader also struggles through depression though often hides it through masking, however there are ocassional thoughts of suicide when some scenarios are too extreme to cope with. She's scared to leave, assumes she could never get away, so just deals with it all as she doesn't know what else to do. Wordcount: 3.6k+ I hope you enjoy! <3

Thursday, 9:02 AM

Sukuna had you sit down at the dining room table, and you held your arms while starting out one of the nearby floor to ceiling windows. This penthouse was enormous. Though you tried not to be nosy and look around, you just couldn't help it. You longed for this type of life so much, hating how you threw it all away for a man who pretended to love you just so he could get his hooks dug deep into your skin, never letting you leave. You should have been in some luxorious place like this. Not that shithole apartment where the ceilings were too low, some of the windows were cracked, the neighbors were obnoxiously loud and half the time the plumbing seemed to fail. You tried not to blame your parents, but damn. Sure, you were still just a kid, but you wished they had fought harder for you. Maybe if they had been more involved in your life, you would have listened to them easier. You wish they would have just locked you up until you got over your teenage drama. Or had gotten Toji arrested for taking advantage of you.

Your phone pinged and you took it from your back, a heavy frown pulling the edges of your lips down. Speak of the devil. Though you had told Toji you'd be out here for the weekend, apparently that seemed to have slipped his mind. Cause he was demanding to know where you were. You're not surprised. He was probably too drunk last night, and had forgot all the plans you had told him. While arguing with him over text messaging, you didn't notice Sukuna come out from his room. Toji was already stressing you out, making you want to toss your phone across the room in anger. It wasn't until he started facetiming you that it made your anger turn into fear. It was easier to talk to him when you didn't have to see nor hear him.

"You need to take that?" Sukuna's low voice caught you off guard as he was now standing near you, getsuring towards your phone. You went to speak, but the words got caught in your throat as your eyes fell over his chest, unintentionally gliding down to his abs, your gaze tracing over the black lines painted over his tone, tanned skin. Holy shit, he was gorgeous, so fit and well maintained. Your phone ringing in your hand again knocked you out of your trance, and you stammered while pulling your eyes away and looking down to the screen.

Toji would make you show the room, you knew how this worked. And you were sitting in the dining room of this luxorious penthouse with a guy you didn't know who had his shirt unbuttoned and in full view of you. Fuck, he'd be convinced you were out here cheating on him. Your sides started to heave in panic as you looked around almost desperately, trying to find an area that could pass off as an office building somehow.

"I...I need to step outside." You quickly said, not sure what else to do. If you made Toji wait much longer, there'd be hell for you to pay. "Just step out onto the balcony." Sukuna gestured and you wasted no time to rush past him. Your shaking hand fumbled with the lock but you slid the door open quickly, nearly stumbling out of the threshold. You immediately turned your back from the door, trying to angle the city in the background as you answered the call, already knowing you were going to have to lie for half of this.

["H-Hey, sorry I was...was in an interview."] You nearly panted out, trying not to let your eyes flick around in worry. It was obvious this balcony was some rich persons relaxation area, not something that was professional. ["I don't give a fuck what you were doing. Why the hell did it take so long to answer? You know the rules."] Toji grumbled, throwing back a beer despite it being so early in the day. ["I know, but, I wasn't allowed to answer my phone inside. So I stepped out to the floor's balcony."] ["Oh yeah? What job is it?"] Oh shit. You wanted to glance away to think, to come up with a decent lie, but he'd catch that gesture. ["An assistant job, kinda like what I do now, but, a better paying one."] ["Mmhm. Whats the company?"] You swear your heart just stopped, not even sure how to reply. You were just trying to make shit up in the moment. ["I...I'm not sure, honestly. They were just, open for hiring and I walked in, not even paying attention to the details, just, trying to find something as soon as possible."] ["Why do you fucking lie to me?"] He scoffed while obviously trying to look at your background. ["I-I'm not, Toji I swear I'm not. I'm just trying to find anything I can."] ["Where the fuck are you? Show the area."] ["Toji, please I need to get back inside. If I keep them waiting they might-" ["And if you keep me waiting I'm going to beat your ass when you get home. I'm not asking, I'm fucking telling you to show me the area. You know why? Cause I don't fucking believe you. And if you were telling the truth, you'd easily do what you're told."] You heavily sighed, knowing you were getting in trouble no matter what. ["Toji, I don't have time for this, I have to go back in. I'm sorry."] You quickly said before hanging up. You didn't even want to begin to imagine what he was going to do to you when you got home. But if you did show the space, you knew the punishment would be even worse if he found out you were at some guys penthouse. Despite you not being here for ill intentions, he wouldn't care. Hell, Toji was the type who would come looking for this guy. 

-----

Sukuna glanced from the window in his kitchen, able to see her from where he was. She was clearly bothered by something, and he could only continue to assume it was cause of a miserable home life. Though she tried to keep some sort of composure, it faltered so easily. He turned his attention back to what he was doing, not really interested in the personal problems of others. Though he frowned to himself upon realizing he was preparing food for her. His eyes flicked back to her out the window for just a second. Even an idiot could see that she didn't get to eat a lot. Normally he would eat in his office, ordering some take out, but since he wasn't going in, might as well make something to eat here. An angered yell caught his attention, and he looked to the window while by the stove to see her prepared to throw her phone from the balcony. She gripped the device tightly in her hand, huffing while trying to restrain from taking her anger out on the phone. But alas, she shook it in her hand before letting it fall to the balcony floor instead. With her hands free, she gripped onto the balcony railing, slowly moving forward and back in an obvious display of self soothing as her head hung low. He could only begin to imagine the bullshit she put up with on the daily to cause her to be like this. Well, she wouldn't be the first woman he's entertained who had a shitty man at home. And he certainly didn't mind being the shoulder to cry on, or the dick to ride on.

-----

You stared up to the sky, face still sticky with your angered tears. Why was Toji such an asshole? He had to be such a pain in your life. Acting as if you weren't out here trying to find a job. Fuck. A fucking job. You still needed to resolve this major issue. You picked up your poor phone, just greatful you didn't actually chuck it from the balcony. Toji was the issue, not your phone. Though the thought of throwing it and letting it shatter on the ground below was a relieving idea, it would just make your day even worse. You casually went back inside, trying to quietly shut the door, embarassment starting to creep up through your chest. What a shitty morning. Sulking back to the dining room table, you sat down quietly, pretending as if you never left the spot. Unfortunately, thoughts of how Toji was going to beat your ass when you got home plagued your mind. He'd probably lock you in the crate for this. Since it was near the weekend, it could last for a couple days. Your lip quivered at the thought.  Honestly,  you'd rather just take a beating and get it over with. Being locked inside that crate for any amount of time was some of the worst torture he's ever come up with. It was beyond cramped, and dark, and you couldn't move or breathe. It just spiked your anxiety and panic and-

"I'm, sorry." You murmured, seeing Sukuna come from the kitchen towards you, snapping you out of the start of a spiral. He offered a soft rag and you looked up to him smiling weakly, slowly taking it from him. "Thanks. I'm so sorry, just, there are, family problems, someone is ill so, everyone is just so stressed out right now."

You laughed nervously, offering some stupid lie, hoping he'd accept it. Sukuna sat down at the table across from you, setting his coffee mug off to the side and resting his elbow on the table, chin atop his knuckles while he watched your whole body tremble as you stared down to the table blankly. "Does your man always talk to you like that?" He said bluntly, making your head snap up in attention. Yeah. He most likely heard some of that bullshit. How embarassing. How the hell were you supposed to answer that? "I'm sorry, I've completely ruined your morning." You said softly, eyes falling back to the table while hoping to dismiss this situation. You dabbed the soft rag to your eyes, trying to dry some of your tears. Watching you for a moment, Sukuna let a gentle smile come across his face while giving a small chuckle. "You didn't ruin it at all, pretty little thing." A gulp lodged in your throat at his charming voice and demeanor and your gaze went back to his in near desperation.  Pretty?  He said it again. However you felt far from pretty. With your frail body, shitty outfit and lack of shoes, you felt pretty pathetic more than anything.

"Just, please tell me what I can do for you, for the coffee mess." You pleaded, wanting to get this situation over with. There was already a plethora of other things you had to worry about. "Don't worry about it right now, we can finish that later, let me get you something to eat." Feeling your stomach gurgle at his words, you looked to him hopefully but tried to deny his offer, though, he obviously wasn't going to let you.

You weren't at the table for too much longer before a voice rang out through his home, nearly startling you before realizing it was the intercom. "Sir, I have returned with the items." Sukuna went to the intercom system on the wall and hit a button, allowing whoever that was to come up. You unknowlingly curled in on yourself, not sure why another man was coming up here. And with what items?

"Here, these should fit you." Sukuna said casually, stepping over to you after taking some boxes from the man you now recognized as his driver when he exited the elevator. "What should fit me?" you wondered curiously, but as a box was opened for you, it made sense. "C...clothes? I can't afford new clothes." You stammered, stepping back to show your rejection for the offer. "You're not paying for them. But, if you're going to run errands for me, you're going to look how I want you to. There's a few things you can choose from, just go change in my room." He said while pointing to a door down the hall.

You stood dumbfounded in the massive room, not even sure how a room of this size was possible. Your entire apartment could fit in here several times. His bed was triple the size of yours, and more of those large floor-to-ceiling windows adorned the walls, showing off the beautiful city. The windows were tinted to not let the room be filled with the exceptionally bright morning sun, and otherwise the lighting was calm and relaxing. His bed faced the wall of windows, and a huge rug extended from underneath the bed to across the room. There was a small area off to the side with seating, and shelves built into the walls full of books. Near that, was a small spiral staircase going up. As you walked towards the windows and looked up to where the stairs went, you could see it was an open area above. From the little bit that you could see, his closet was up there. It's own personal floor.

You couldn't help but wonder what it was like to be in one of those cliché romance scenes from one of your books, making love in the night with some guy you didn't know and able to see a view like this from the bedroom with no one really knowing what was happening behind simple glass. Secret, little romance fantasies.

Bad thoughts.

They were just bad thoughts constantly trying to plague your mind. You had a fiancé, whether you liked it or not. Sometimes your mind would try to imagine a life with someone else, someone who treated you properly and gave you what you needed or wanted. Or just a life where you got to explore and love freely without any restraints. And you hated it. Hated when your mind wandered like that. Because there was nothing you would ever be able to do to get away from Toji. It was easier to just accept that your life wasn't going to change.

You laid out the three outfits onto the bed, looking over them in awe. They were so pretty, and they felt so nice and soft. Who were you kidding, the felt expensive as hell. Honestly, when he said you would look how he wanted, you were afraid it would be some skimpy outfits for him to parade you around in. However, they were decently professional, if anything, they would make you look like you belonged in this city. Slipping off your clothes, you caught your reflection in a mirror nearby, and you immediately looked away in shame. Marks littered your skin, and your ribs stuck out farther than you had liked. Toji grabbed you too often, and fed you too little.

You slowly stepped out of Sukuna's room, feeling a little self concious in the outfit actually. You hadn't worn anything this nice since you still lived at home. Okay, there were a lot of things you hadn't experienced since you lived at home. And being in this penthouse was reminding you of all the luxuries you missed out on. You were born into wealth, and you literally threw it all away. You didn't see his driver anymore, and assumed he already left. Obviously Sukuna didn't seem like the type to keep company he didn't need. His driver did the job needed, then he was gone. Hopefully thats what would happen here. You could do the errands he needed you to, then you could move on.  Taking a seat at the table again, you were a little surprised to find a nice hot cup of tea there waiting for you. Of course, you stared at it like it was fake or going to throw itself at you. Did he prepare this for you? Should you drink it?  Whenever Toji's friends came over, they always made you things to drink and you felt like shit afterwards. You knew Toji liked drugs, and it was so obvious that he'd drug you from time to time so he could use you how he wanted without you trying to fight back. 

Obviously, you never knew the true intentions of him drugging you.

But, this guy wasn't Toji. At least, he didn't do anything to act like Toji in the slightest. You were still somewhat scared of him though. Those tattoos were confusing the hell out of you. At least, when he had his shirt on fully, you couldn't see any of them. So maybe it was for a different reason? Usually the Yakuza had full intentions of showing off their tattoos. You dare not ask though, just pretend it's something you didn't see. 

Hot tea sounded so good though...

You slowly sipped it, almost whimpering at the warmth that flowed down into your stomach from the soothing flavor. And then, the smell of food hit you. Discreetly licking your lips as you watched Sukuna come from the kitchen with dishes in his hands, you weren't sure if you were drooling or not at this point.

As he sat the last dish down and seated himself across from you, you stared at all the food in awe. To be honest it was more than you had in a very long time.

"This...is a lot." you breathlessly whispered in excitement, setting your tea down and trying to decide what to eat first. Eyes watched you from across the table, waiting for you to start eating, but noticed you sat patiently as if waiting for something yourself. At home, you never touched any food before Toji did, you had to wait til he said you could start eating. It was just habit at this point to wait for someone else to begin.

"(Y/N), you don't have to wait for me to start eating." The man across from you said, and you quickly broke your frozen stance. A soft chuckle came from Sukuna after seeing you eagerly  go after something with haste, almost as if watching a starving dog react to a bowl of food set in front of it for the first time in weeks.

Pulling the end of the chopsticks out of your mouth while finishing chewing, your gaze aimlessly stared onto the table. It was...calm, and quiet. Apart from the city noises outside of the early morning rushes, it was just so relaxing. No fighting, no phone constantly ringing from debt collectors looking for you. But, you almost felt afraid. Being able to enjoy a more relaxing environment while sitting with another man alone in his apartment while you ate the food he made seemed wrong on a certain level.

Toji would lose his shit if he ever found out about this.

"So, I assume running a few errands shouldn't be a problem. You can pick up some things for me and drop a couple things off." Sukuna said at one point, and you nodded along in agreement. It didn't seem too difficult, nothing you weren't already used to. He explained where you would be going, and what you would be doing, and honestly you couldn't deny that you enjoyed listening to his voice.  Hearing a man talk to you in a way that wasn't so harsh was such a relief. Not only that, but he just fed you breakfast. Toji hadn't prepared food for you in years, and even when he did, it didn't tast this good.  You've gotten better treatment in just these last couple hours than you had in the last seven years with Toji, and it was almost heartbreaking to think about...

This one isn't as long because it's broken up. Originally this chapter was gonna be almost 8k words and I didn't want a really long chapter so I decided to just make two shorter ones instead. I hope you enjoyed!

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! (ﾉ･ω･)ﾉ

[countlessmoviethoughts]

Ok, I’ve been thinking about this for a bit, but consider:

Slow Horses where everything is the same, but they have a cat.

Sid finds a cat on her way into Slough House sometime before the start of the show. It’s this scrawny orange cat, probably little less than a year old, so not really a kitten that needs its mom or anything but definitely not full grown. It looks picked on, Yknow, ear has cuts, probably a few claw marks here and there, and for a moment it reminds her so much of River she has to at least show him the cat so she can laugh at his reaction or something. So she does the perfectly reasonable thing of picking up a random cat off the street and brings it to work.

She shows the cat to River who does the whole ‘Ha ha not funny’ bit, but walking through London with this random cat in her coat, she’s become attached. So she decides it’s going to stay at Slough House, much to everyone’s delight (not). She goes out on a coffee break later (her second or third of the day) and gets the basic supplies, and probably a few toys, and sets them up in various places around the office.

Standish is probably the most excited about all this, and the cat absolutely ADORES her. After Sid disappears (? Is that the right word for what happens?) Standish is the main one who cares for the cat. Occasionally, before she leaves, it would follow her around, curling around her ankles when she stands to do her tasks. Once she leaves, on her very occasional visits to Slough House, the cat is stuck to her like glue until she leaves.

A good half of the house think Lamb doesn’t know there’s even a cat, but he’s aware almost as soon as Sid introduces it into Slough House. He just kinda doesn’t care? Except when Standish leaves, he’s kind of the only one keeping the cat alive aside from River. The others try, but none of them have ever really had a cat, so every once in a while when everyone is running around or if someone gets the wrong type of food, a can of the most basic can of cat food mysteriously shows up open near the cat’s food bowl.

River is the dad that didn’t want the cat but then gets super attached. At first he’s very much less than impressed by the cat’s presence. He slowly warms up to the idea, but it really isn’t until after Sid’s gone that he gets attached. After her, if the cat isn’t with Standish, odds are it’s at River’s desk. He won’t necessarily play with the cat outright unless he’s REALLY bored or has something he REALLY doesn’t want to do, but if a toy falls by his foot he’ll kick it a little so the cat can keep playing. Or if the cat comes and sits on his desk he’ll give it a scratch on the head. After a particularly long day, if River is feeling particularly shitty, he’s also not opposed to the cat curling up on his lap for a while for him to pet, it takes his mind off things. After Sid and Standish, he’s the one that takes the most care of the cat.

Louisa tolerates that cat well enough. She thinks it definitely has its uses, she’s seen it take out a mouse or two, and after spending a good couple years in Slough House it knows not to get under foot. If she’s by River’s desk and the cat is there, she’s not opposed to giving it a couple pets as they talk. Min LOVES the cat, like he absolutely loves having it around and out of all the Slow Horses is the one that most actively played with the cat. That love has definitely rubbed of on Louisa just a touch.

Marcus also loves the cat, and gets a lot of entertainment out of a laser pointer. Him and Shirley are the two that try their best to take care of the cat when Standish leaves and River is gone for long periods of time, but while they mean well, they know absolutely nothing about cats. Shirley likes to pretend she’s indifferent about the cat, but she really isn’t. She wouldn’t be trying so hard (and by trying so hard I mean buying a can of straight up sardines over cat food but cats eat fish so it should be fine right?) When Marcus is killed in the house, before the bodies are collected, the cat comes out and just sorta… sits with him, until the people come to take his body away.

For Moira’s short stay at Slough House, she ignores the cat and the cat ignores her. The cat and Coe seemingly have a mutual understanding of not bothering each other. If they cross paths they may look at each other for a few seconds, and then immediately move on.

Roddy hates that cat. The feeling is mutual.

The cat never actually gets an official name, it just kinda becomes ‘The Cat’. Standish tries a couple names but they never stick, and the fact they don’t actually know the gender or anything of the cat probably plays a factor in that. If the cat ever gets seriously injured or ill they’ll probably find out at the vet, but until then they don’t really have the money nor do they care enough to take it into the vet to figure it out. Roddy has a couple choice nicknames for the cat, starting with ‘Ginger Devil’ and getting progressively more vulgar from there.

The cat usually stays at Slough House at night, locked in. It becomes a habit that someone fills the water, either Standish, or River, or Marcus, or Shirley, or even Lamb if all the others fail. Taking care of the cat falls into generic tasks/chores that need to be fulfilled on the daily so despite the general mess that Slough House can be, it’s actually a fairly well taken care of cat. Nobody outside of Slough House really know of its existence, the people at The Park couldn’t care less about what they do over there for the most part, and if anyone from there decides to visit the cat is always miraculously not around. Same thing happens with intruders. Whenever someone breaks in, the cat is long gone, and only emerges from whatever hiding space it’s been holed up in after everything has settled.

The cat becomes a staple of the building in the end, fairly well taken care of, at least as best taken care of as it can be by a group of disgraced spies, but it seems like it’s here to stay.

To anyone who read this far, hope you enjoy, this has been bouncing around in my head for the past couple days…

[jsuschrst2005]

“do you think that i’ve

forgotten?” ⋆⭒˚.⋆

schlatt x reader fanfic

a/n: pt. 2 to my about you series!!! i hope you all enjoy <3 sorry it took so long for me to finish! expect pt. 3 in the coming weeks :3

it’s not like you DIDN’T give a fuck about meeting schlatt…

it’s just, you were very busy, the both of you were, and perhaps you may have forgotten.

working in Manhattan meant one of many things, you were close to central park, but also all of the cute pinterest coffee shops you could visit during your lunch.

and if spending $20 on an overpriced latte and some avocado toast meant you had something cute to post on instagram, then why the hell not?

finally: 12:30, you had an hour of unpaid time all to yourself. your headphones were blasting some shitty indie sleaze playlist. the streets were offly quiet for a Thursday, maybe it was the weather.

the clouds were dray, and it smelled of fresh rain. nothing a hot coffee and a plate of sickeningly sweet pancakes couldn’t fix. so you made your way to your favorite brunch spot, mindlessly texting your best friend, asking if she wanted to come. she couldn’t.

you entered the restaurant, you’d been coming here for a comforting meal with you friends for the past few months. the place was grungy, the type of place that would’ve been all the rage on tumblr in 2014, brick walls and lights hanging from the ceilings.

you were sitting at a table, cozy and in the corner, next to the window so you could watch the rain fall.

you had ordered a cup of black coffee, which had already arrived, warm in your hands. an order of french toast would be arriving soon as well.

you hadn't noticed Him.

you’d decided on a whim to bring your computer along with you. your eyes were clouded away as you typed away, answering emails and filling out completion forms that we’re basically useless.

and maybe... watching a few youtube videos.

“are you stalking me now?”

your head shot up at the voice you’d recognize anywhere. you looked up, schlatt was staring down at you with some kind of evil grin on his face.

you flushed softly, almost embarrassed, feeling like you were caught even though realistically you’d been first at the restaurant anyway.

“didnt you just walk in? if anything, you're stalking ME.”

he rolled his eyes but chuckled softly, crossing his arms.

“yeah yeah, i guess i shouldn’t accuse my fans of stalking me.”

“exactly, now will i be getting an apology or?” he leaned back on his footing, his eyes studying you before your waiter came up behind him.

“i have your french toast-” he set it down before noticing schlatt. “will there be two of you today?”

“oh, no i’m just-” schlatt started, but what shortly cut off by the other man;

“i'll be right back with your menu.” to which he quickly left. schlatt stood awkwardly for the next few moments, before clearing his throat;

“can i?” he motioned to the chair across from you. you nodded quickly, trying not to come off as eager, but evidently failing. he sat down, messing with his hands for a moment before attempting some kind of conversation.

“so uh- watchu doin there?” he leaned his head on his hand, looking at your sticker covered computer that sat in front of him. his persona was lazily pieced together, but so far it was failing, his genuine curiosity complacent in his parasocialness.

“eating” you said, with a mouthful of sweet french toast.

he scoffed and rolled his eyes, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. “well, obviously.”

“i’m just working… you know.” you said as you mindlessly closed the sleep deprived video that was paused on your computer.

“working huh?” he raised his eyebrows.

“yeah…” you looked at him, he looked down for a moment.

“you have syrup on your face.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

you reached for your napkin, wiping the sticky substance from your face. the situation you were in was awkward, bordering on uncomfortable, you could see the way he shifted in his seat, obviously not expecting this to happen when he went out for lunch.

your waiter came back, and you zoned out for a moment as he ordered his food, when you looked back up, he was gone. you cleared your throat: “is this your first time here?”

“at Muds?” you nod your head, “no, it isn’t my first time, i like coming in when i can, the atmosphere is nice… and no one ever bothers me” your eyes widened slowly; he grunted: “not that you’re bothering me…”

his food arrived and you were both whisked away into your own little worlds. you’d closed your laptop and focused on the sickeningly sweet french toast in front of you, he slowly sipped his water, and bit into his sandwich.

it felt domestic, warm. the conversations ended there and as you finished your food. from your peripheral vision you noticed how he slipped your waiter his card; “you don't have to do that-”

“s the least i can do.” he shrugged it off and signed the check, “thanks for the meal.” he casually walked out of the restaurant, his eyes meeting yours one last time from the window.

you sat there dumbfounded, confused at the situation from the get go, you pulled your phone out.

you were already 10 minutes late from your lunch break, frantically packing your things into your bag and rushing out of the cafe, you wondered what the hell you were going to tell your roommate later.

[lottiesfawn]

Lottie matthews headcannons

𓄃

Pre-crash lottieᨒ↟ 𖠰⤵

જ⁀➴ LOVES history!! Total geek when it comes the the Renaissance

જ⁀➴ cutest fem lesbian you ever met!

જ⁀➴ never learned how to French braid hair, gets all frustrated and the cries over her hair and just gives up!

જ⁀➴ knows the metric system by heart! Uses it & forgets that its not common knowledge

જ⁀➴ loves greek mythology, loves learning about the all the different versions of the stories, even the unknown stories most people don't know.

જ⁀➴ definitely was a sport junkie and played a bunch more sports than soccer like softball or volleyball.

જ⁀➴ definitely has stolen her parents alcohol and getting way too hungover cause she mixed like 5 different types of alcohol

જ⁀➴ the first to bring up making out or spin the bottle at sleepovers 😭 girl is a GIRLKISSER even if she doesn't know it

જ⁀➴ Is supposed to wear glasses but refused to wear them until her parents got her contacts (she ended up abandoning those a month after she got them)

જ⁀➴ has her license but CANNOT handle getting onto the freeway or getting off of it

જ⁀➴ definitely stops in the bathroom between classes to freshen up her makeup (my fav cute fem) and takes way too long and is tardy (she talks her way out of it every time)

જ⁀➴ May be rich but loves thrifting, mainly boutiques and high-end places but still, loves to thrift jewelry and trinkets

જ⁀➴ the type the wake up 3 hours early to get ready for school do she can do a cute hairstyle

જ⁀➴ takes hour long showers

જ⁀➴ definitely knows how to get teachers and peers to like her, uses it to her advantage so she can ask her teachers for favors or an excused assignment here or there

જ⁀➴ social butterfly!! Friends with everyone, but also would die if she had to do any sort of public speaking

જ⁀➴ really ashamed of her diagnosis :(( is scared of letting people find out, was scared of having sleepovers when she was younger cause she didn’t want them to see her take her meds :(

જ⁀➴ LOVESSSS to go on walks, runs, bike rides, you name it! She loves to go around and be outside!

જ⁀➴ Friends with everyone but never truly close to anyone :(( only close with very few of the girls on the team but too scared to let them see her be vulnerable

જ⁀➴ only person she's truly herself with is nat

જ⁀➴smokes weed with nat after practice cause she doesn't like being at home and knows nat doesn't either

જ⁀➴ super protective of lauralee, doesn't let the other girls pick on her, always defends her!

જ⁀➴ has a banter going with mari, they both act mean back and forth to eachother all the time especially at practice and giggle about it (marilot your real to me)

જ⁀➴ loves her to buy cute stuff from Victoria secret buy HATES having to actually go in, head down eyes locked to the floor with a red face as she makes her way to what she needs

જ⁀➴ truly has no tmi, let's her friends tell her anything and everything without judgment, even people she's not friends with, loves to have people tell her stuff.

જ⁀➴ HATES when she sees someone being excluded, always is the first to invite someone over or sit with someone who's alone!

જ⁀➴ a total sweetheart :(( so kind and caring and deserves the world :((

[gakukitty]

how would some of the sakadays guys be like with a clingy partner? their love language is physical touch or quality time and without it they literally wilt like a plant. im not sure who to request for? shin, heisuke, nagumo, gaku, kei, whoever! its up to you

clingy cling cling — ✦ — masterlist

featuring . . . shin asakura , heisuke mashimo , nagumo yoichi , gaku , kei uzuki , shishiba , natsuki seba ( multi , seperate ) x clingy! reader

note ; i was considering adding tenkyu here bc i wanna start writing for him but im too sleepy ,,, next time teust :33 !!! sorry if this is baaaddd :’( especially gaku and kei’s ine , i feel like those were bad but ts ok !!!! i hope you guys liiiiokkeeee iiittttttt <33

note ; also , sorry for making these so short !! i sort of lost the plot and didn’t know how to continue it , at fiest i wanted to make them sort of hcs but then i was like “idkkkkk” so i didn’t … anywaus , i might make a better version once i’m done with all my other works !!!

gaku ✦

“what’re you doing—?” your boyfriend half-grumbles, lifting a muscular arm for you to crawl under. it’s not uncommon for you to slither your way into his grasp— especially when he’s the busiest. don’t you know that he’s busy playing games?

you do know. but you just don’t really care. and honestly, gaku wouldn’t have it any other way. so, he’s happy to adjust his hold on you and let you shift closer, resting his cheek against the top of your head. this just adds another level of challenge to his game; he’ll see how long he can last focusing on his game before he tosses it aside in favour of reciprocating your hug.

it doesn’t take long for that to happen— because deep down, your dear boyfriend gaku is just as clingy as you. the man’s more than willing to let you trail behind him to wherever— okay, maybe not to some places, but he’s sure to send a message and leave a warm sweater for you on the rare occasion he’s not in your presence.

kei uzuki ✦

the man just glances over to you, gaze focused on the expression on your face— it’s one that he knows very well. so, uzuki just holds out a slender hand of his and gives you a soft smile.

you’re quick to take the opportunity, your hand reaching out for his. your fingers intertwine, and kei’s smile just widens slightly when you squeeze his hand. he’s used to this, your love of touching him and being near him. and i’m all honesty, uzuki really likes it.

moments like these, where the two of you looking through a bookstore for another book he can read.. while you sit beside him, your head on his shoulder as the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

nagumo yoichi ✦

he freaking loves you and is more than happy to have you around him at all times !! nagumo can be a bit irritating though, with all his teasing :’(

“aww, what’s that? you want me to stay looonger?” nagumo drawls, glancing back at you. the man was just getting ready to hop out of bed for work— but that cute little voice you just did reeaalllyy does something to him. so, with a soft, mocking sigh, your boyfriend lays back down. his limbs tangle with yours, his smile wide as he shifts closer. this is the life, he thinks.

heisuke mashimo ✦

at first, dear heisuke was just a little sigh. “you— you wanna spend time with me?” he’d blink, gaze darting around in search for cameras— because there’s no way you’d want to willingly hang around him !!

but, there is a way— and heisuke is overwhelmed with pure joy when your hand finds his. he’s grown to cherish your shared moments, his eyes sparkling with adoration whenever he wakes up with you clinging onto him, and his heart beating just a little faster when you ask him to stay with you longer before leaving.

oh, but his absolute favourite thing in the whole entire world is when you message him. the poor man has to lift a hand to clutch at his chest in attempt to stop his heart from beating so fast. you miss him? you MISS HIM???!!!!

shin asakura ✦

shin could tell from the start that you were the type who valued closeness and quality time. not only because of his abilities, but because of the way your hand would reach out for his slightly every now and then. or maybe it’s the way your eyebrows would furrow whenever he said he had to go somewhere— or, it could be when you’d linger for a little longer around him.

whichever one it is, shin noticed. so without you even asking about it or mentioning it, he grabs your hand gently. the man just flashes you a smile, lacing your fingers together and shifting slightly closer. even with the rather.. direct approach that he’s taking, it’s hard to hide the way his cheeks flush at that smile on your face.

he’ll spend all the time in the world with you if it means you smile like that again.

shishiba ✦

like shin, shishiba also noticed pretty early on. he was much more gentle about the way he went about it; he started with inviting you out to dinner one night. he had already known for a while that you appreciated quality time— so he was more than happy to spend time with you.

every now and then, during your dates, he likes to hold your hand. or, if you’re eating out; his foot sort of drifts towards yours. even the smallest of touches mean something, to both you and him.

he also makes sure to always wake up just a little earlier so the two of you can spend more time together in bed before he has work— the feeling of you beside him is one of the best things this world can offer, in shishibas opinion.

natsuki seba ✦

natsuki is similar to you— he also loves spending time together. so, one of his favourite things is when you come to visit him when he’s busy working. natsuki’s never too busy to be with you— your boyfriend loooovvvessss having you just sit beside or near him, sometimes listen to you talk or just sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

however, he has to admit that he quite likes spending nights with you. his arms find their way to your waist, his head immediately shifting to rest against your shoulder. the man can be quite clingy when he feels like it; but he knows that you’re the same. and he fucking loves it— he loves you.

© gakukitty please don’t copy my work , repost it and claim as your own , translate , or use it to train ai ♡